The Feelings That Keep Coming Back
What they really want from you
You don’t have to know the whole story right now.
You don’t need a perfect memory of the day something started. You don’t need a fully formed theory of why you feel small when someone compliments you or why a quiet look from a partner can feel like a verdict.
What you need is one skill. One small habit. One consistent way to notice what’s happening inside you in the moment.
Because those feelings are not the enemy. They’re the language. They’re the kid who keeps tapping you on the shoulder, asking to be seen.
A short true vignette
“Ben” (name changed) would leave dates feeling deflated. He’d have a great night, then replay one line the other person said and sink into weeks of doubt. He’d been told his whole life that he was “too much” and “overly sensitive.” So when a casual remark landed wrong, the little kid inside took over and said, See. You’re too much. No one stays.
When Ben learned to name the feelings in the moment (just thirty seconds on his phone to write: “I feel embarrassed, small, and anxious”) things changed. Naming gave him distance. He remembered other times he’d felt the same cluster: a teacher’s cold glance, a parent’s critique, a childhood moment of being left out. Those memories stopped being proof he was broken and started being data. Clues about what the kid inside needed.
Two months later Ben texted: “I went on another date. I felt that wave but I named it. I breathed. I told myself: ‘You’re allowed to exist.’ The night didn’t wreck me.”
That’s the power. Not the insight alone. The practice.
Why feelings matter more than thoughts
We love to believe that if we think differently, we’ll feel different. Sometimes that’s true. But often the thinking is downstream of feeling. The same thought—“I’m unlovable”—is sticky because it sits on top of old visceral signals: a hollow chest, a knot in the belly, a hot rush to the face.
Those signals are the raw material. Name them. Learn their texture. The moment you can do that, the thought loses some of its power.
Practice: next time you feel big emotion, stop. Ask:
What am I feeling? (pick 2–4 words)
Where in my body do I feel it?
What memory, idea, or past moment does this remind me of?
Even 20 seconds of this practice is a bite-sized act of re-parenting your inner child. It tells that small part: I see you. You’re not alone.
The “projector” idea: how beliefs shape your world
One useful image: imagine your mind as a projector. If the lens is blue, everything looks blue. The belief “I’m not good enough” is a lens. You’ll notice people and situations that prove it, because that’s how perception works.
The goal isn’t to force the lens to disappear overnight. It’s to clean it slowly by tending to the feelings that keep the lens cloudy.
A feeling appears. You name it. You track it to a memory. You meet the need underneath that feeling (safety, comfort, validation). Over time the lens clears. You stop attracting the exact same dramas because you aren’t unconsciously asking the world to prove that lens right.
How to use the daily feelings practice (simple, practical)
Make this ridiculously small. Small wins become habits.
Pick a 20–30 second ritual. Phone alarm, coffee pause, or bathroom mirror. That’s your check-in.
Open a feelings chart. Google “feelings chart” or use an app (How We Feel is fine). Pick words beyond “good” or “bad.” Try “sullenness,” “emptiness,” “resentful,” “relieved.”
Name 2–4 words. Don’t analyze. Label.
Map to body. Where is it? Chest, throat, belly, shoulders?
Link to memory. Ask: “When else did I feel this?” Let a scene come—five seconds is enough.
Ask the need. What did I want in that old scene? (safety, attention, protection)
Say to yourself: I’m here. I see you. Short. Reparenting language: “That little kid needed this. I’ll take care of that now.”
Do it daily. Do it when triggered. Do it in line, in the car, between meetings. Consistency is the motor of change.
Why weekly therapy alone often stalls progress
Weekly sessions are sacred. They give space. They hold safety.
But life happens between appointments. A thought, a trigger, a tiny humiliation: these happen in real time. If you only wait a week to process, the wave has already built into a storm. Momentum is lost. Progress stalls.
Daily touchpoints turn every small moment into an opportunity to practice, not just to reflect. That’s where habits are rewired. That’s where the nervous system learns new truth: I am seen. I can withstand this.
What happens when you start naming consistently
Your emotional vocabulary grows. You stop saying “I’m fine” because you can’t name your feeling.
Triggers shrink. They become identifiable signals, not mysterious avalanches.
You build trust with yourself. Small consistent acts of noticing tell your inner child: I will show up.
Relationships change. You stop chasing validation and start choosing people who actually meet your needs.
If this feels hard: you’re not failing
There will be resistance. That voice that says “this is pointless” is part of the pattern. It will try to keep things familiar. That’s okay. Notice it. Name it. Treat it like any other feeling.
The key is not perfection. It’s showing up one more time.
You don’t have to do this alone
If you want practice, structure, and someone who will actually respond when the wave hits. There’s a way to get that without expensive hourly sessions.
The $1/Day Emotional Support Coaching Group on Telegram is built around this exact work:
Daily bite-sized prompts and tools to practice naming feelings and meeting needs
Direct interaction with me so you get guidance when you need it
Weekly summaries to track progress so you don’t lose momentum
Weekly live Zoom Q&A to dig deeper with the group
People in the group are doing the daily work and changing their inner story. Consistency + coaching + a community that gets it = compounding progress.
We’ve got spots left available. If you want in, start here:
➡️ https://insanelyeffective.substack.com/p/1day-emotional-support-coaching-group
Final note — a tiny promise
If you’ll do the small thing today—20 seconds, name two words, breathe—you’ll have done more than most people do all month. Over weeks those seconds add up. That kid inside will stop shouting for attention and start whispering thank you.
You don’t have to fix the past. You have to make friends with it. You can do that one labeled feeling at a time.
If you want company on that path, I’m here.