Holy Shit, I Wasn’t Just Feeling It. I Was Feeling My Explanation of It.

Not long ago, I heard the voice of someone I’ve known for years in a video.

My body reacted.

And before I had analyzed a damn thing, my mind handed me a complete explanation:

I can’t stand this woman.

There was no thoughtful review of the evidence. No Hmmm, Kelly, let’s explore the possible contributors to this emotional response.

Just:

I can’t stand this woman.

Then came the sorting.

Maybe this had something to do with my new role as a grandma.

Maybe I was feeling territorial.

Maybe old history had just walked into a brand-new moment.

Maybe I was tired. Maybe I hadn’t eaten well. Maybe hormones turned the volume up. Maybe I simply had legitimate reasons for not particularly enjoying this person.

And here’s what caught me:

By the time I thought I was trying to figure out what I felt, I had already started changing what I felt.

Holy shit.

Because our minds are fast.

Something happens and almost instantly we don’t just have a reaction.

We have a reaction plus an explanation.

My mom is mad at me.

My partner sounded irritated.

My friend didn’t text back.

My boss seemed weird.

And within seconds:

She’s disappointed in me.

He doesn’t care.

I must have done something wrong.

Something bad is going to happen.

Now I’m not just sitting with whatever showed up in my body.

I’m sitting with the original reaction plus everything that sentence added to it.

That distinction matters.

If I’m sad and my mind adds, because nobody really cares about me, that sentence doesn’t merely describe my sadness.

It may deepen it.

If I’m anxious and my mind adds, because something terrible is about to happen, now my anxiety has somewhere to run.

If I’m irritated and my mind adds, because she always does this to me, I may suddenly have years of evidence joining an emotion that started thirty seconds ago.

The story doesn’t just sit on top of the feeling like a little name tag.

Sometimes it becomes part of what I’m feeling.

Who It Is Matters

If a coworker I barely know seems irritated with me, I might notice it and move on.

If my mother is irritated with me and we have fifty years of relationship history, my body may have some follow-up questions.

Same with a spouse of fifteen years versus somebody I’ve been dating for three weeks.

The relationship matters.

The history matters.

What this person represents to me matters.

Which is why my mom is mad at me may turn into I’m a bad daughter before I’ve even noticed there was a turn.

And this doesn’t mean the explanation is wrong.

That’s important.

Sometimes your first read is dead-on.

Sometimes somebody really is angry.

Sometimes something really did hurt.

Sometimes the history you’re remembering is absolutely relevant.

The point isn’t to talk yourself out of what you know.

The point is to notice what your mind added.

There is a difference between:

What am I feeling?

and

What have I already decided this feeling means?

And I don’t think we need a tiny psychological shovel every time we have an emotion.

We don’t need to excavate our childhood because somebody irritated us at Costco.

Maybe I slept badly.

Maybe I haven’t eaten.

Maybe hormones are involved.

Maybe an old wound got bumped.

Maybe this situation genuinely pissed me off.

Maybe three of those things are true at once.

I don’t necessarily need to identify the winner.

For some people, the story is actually how they find their way into the emotion. That’s fine too. We’re not trying to create one correct route into ourselves.

We’re just learning to notice when an explanation arrived so quickly that it never felt like an explanation.

It just felt like what happened.

Try This Once

The next time you catch yourself in an emotional sentence, write the whole sentence down.

Maybe:

I’m irritated because that email was so dismissive.

Now temporarily remove everything after the feeling.

I’m irritated.

That’s it.

Don’t argue with the rest of the sentence.

Don’t prove it.

Don’t disprove it.

Don’t turn yourself into a crime documentary.

Just notice whether the emotional experience changes at all when the explanation is temporarily removed.

Then, if it’s useful, ask:

What did that sentence add?

Did it add rejection?

Danger?

Blame?

Certainty?

A prediction about what happens next?

You don’t even have to decide whether the sentence is true yet.

And you definitely don’t have to keep digging until you’ve discovered the Official Psychological Reason You Were Irritated on Tuesday.

One pass is enough. We’re noticing, not excavating.

We are often less accurate about the causes of our own reactions than we think, so whatever answer comes up here is information, not a final ruling.

Sometimes you’ll look and realize the story poured gasoline on the feeling.

Sometimes you’ll look and think, Nope. That’s pretty much exactly what happened.

Both are useful.

My mind is going to keep making meaning.

That’s one of the things minds do.

Fast. Efficient. Usually trying to help me make sense of what is happening.

I don’t need to shut it down.

I just want to catch the moment when an explanation quietly becomes part of the experience itself.

Because the story doesn’t merely describe what I’m feeling. Sometimes it becomes part of what I’m feeling.