'When Self-Expression Isn't Authentic:' a postscript

Here’s a postscript to my recent reflection on why, contrary to a common belief, self-expression is often not authentic. In that note I told about a man whose partner felt it was her right to express whatever she was thinking and feeling, and his responsibility to take it, if he loved her. I explained why this notion—that our immediate impulses are authentic and to be shared—is reasonable in a child, but childish in an adult.

The truth behind the impulse to express ourselves is that we do need, somehow, to metabolize difficult thoughts and feelings. Like a distressed infant, they deserve our attention. It’s also true that expressing them to others can be a way to do this. But it’s by no means the only way, and often it’s not the best way. Unless we reflect, we’re more likely, say, to angrily detail our exasperation with AT&T to our partner at the end of a long day. More generally, unless we can notice what we’re feeling and why, we’re more likely to project these onto others. If I’m seething about a conversation with customer service, it will be that much easier for me to be irritated with my partner, though she’s done nothing…except maybe told me she’s tired and doesn’t want to hear my blow by blow with AT&T. (She’s asserting a reasonable boundary.)

So, what grown-up things can we do to take care of our difficult thoughts and feelings? I’ll mention three ways. First, we can externalize and metabolize through journaling or drawing or collaging or other artistic expression. Second, we can sit with them in meditation, as the Buddha recommends, noticing the affective weather instead of reacting to it. Before our partner gets home, we take a few minutes to notice how irritated we feel by something that happened earlier in the day. If we can tolerate sitting with our discomfort and naming it, those initial feelings and thoughts will, like the weather, often change and lose their intensity. Third, we can examine (and edit) the stories we’re telling ourselves, as therapeutic techniques like CBT and IFS teach.

It’s not so simple in practice, of course. And those we love will tolerate our occasional bad weather intruding on them, as we tolerate theirs. The point is to take a first pass at giving good attention to what’s on our mind—before we share it. This is the difference between being reactive and being responsive. It’s the difference between being governed by our impulses and taking responsibility for them.