I Thought I Was Handling My Emotions… I Was Really Just Hiding Them

For a long time, I thought I was pretty good at handling my emotions. Something would hurt me, disappoint me, make me angry, or leave me confused, and I would do what I had learned to do: keep moving. I went to work. I handled my responsibilities. I took care of the people who depended on me. I prayed. I smiled. I got things done. And because I was still functioning, I convinced myself that I was okay. Looking back, I wasn’t processing my emotions. I was managing them well enough to keep functioning. There is a difference.

There were days when I would become irritated over something small, and my reaction didn’t match what had actually happened. Someone could say something the wrong way, plans could change, or one more thing could get added to my already-full plate, and suddenly I was frustrated. Then came the guilt. Why am I acting like this? Why is this bothering me so much? What’s wrong with me? So I would push the emotion back down, tell myself to get it together, and keep going. I didn’t realize that the frustration wasn’t always about what had just happened. Sometimes it was exhaustion. Sometimes it was disappointment. Sometimes it was hurt I had never dealt with. Sometimes I had spent so much time being strong for everybody else that I didn’t even know what I was feeling anymore.

And if I’m really honest, part of me was afraid to slow down and find out. I think I believed that if I acknowledged everything I was feeling, I might lose control. What if I started crying and couldn’t stop? What if admitting I was angry made me a bad person? What if I admitted I was still grieving something I thought I should have moved past by now? And there were some emotions I didn’t even want to admit to God. What would it say about my faith if I told Him I was disappointed? What would it say about me if I admitted that I was tired of waiting, tired of being strong, or confused about what He was doing? So I kept moving. I kept functioning. And I kept calling that strength.

But denying an emotion doesn’t make it disappear. I learned that eventually it will find somewhere else to go. It may show up as anger toward someone who didn’t cause the original hurt. It may look like lying awake at night replaying conversations in your head. It may become resentment, isolation, overthinking, or feeling completely exhausted even after you’ve rested. You might be doing well at work while quietly falling apart at home. You might be rebuilding your life and wondering why you’re still grieving what you lost. You might still believe in God while privately wrestling with disappointment, questions, or even anger toward Him. You can be productive and still be hurting. You can be moving forward and still be grieving. You can love God and still have emotions you don’t understand. None of those things automatically mean something is wrong with you. They may simply mean something inside you needs your attention.

I had to stop asking, “What’s wrong with me?” and start asking a different question: “What am I actually feeling?” That question sounds small, but it changed the way I began relating to myself and to God. Instead of immediately judging the anger, I could become curious about what was underneath it. Instead of telling myself I shouldn’t be sad anymore, I could acknowledge that something still hurt. Instead of pretending I wasn’t disappointed with God, I could invite Him into the disappointment. I began to understand that emotions aren’t always instructions telling me what to do. Sometimes they’re information showing me what needs to be acknowledged, understood, and processed.

That understanding made Psalm 139:23–24 deeply personal to me: “Search me, God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts.” David invited God into what was happening inside him, and I’ve learned to do the same. There are times when I have to ask the Holy Spirit, “Search my heart. Show me what’s really in here.” And sometimes what comes up isn’t pretty or comfortable. Sometimes it’s anger. Sometimes it’s fear. Sometimes it’s grief. Sometimes it’s disappointment I didn’t realize I was still carrying. Sometimes I cry. Sometimes I realize the thing I’m reacting to today isn’t really about today at all. That’s messy. But life is messy, and healing doesn’t always happen in a straight line.

One principle I’ve learned through this process is that acknowledging an emotion doesn’t give it control; it gives you the awareness you need to process it. There’s a difference between saying, “I’m angry, so I’m going to act out of my anger,” and saying, “I’m angry. God, help me understand why.” One gives the emotion authority over your actions. The other creates space for awareness, wisdom, and choice. We don’t have to deny our emotions, and we don’t have to let them run our lives either. We can acknowledge them, process what they’re telling us, bring them before God, and then decide how we want to respond.

So here’s something you can practice today. Before you say, “I’m fine,” stop. Ask yourself, “What am I actually feeling right now?” Name one emotion without judging yourself for it. Then ask, “What might this emotion be trying to tell me?” Finally, invite God into the conversation: “Holy Spirit, help me understand what’s happening in my heart.” You don’t have to fix everything in that moment. You don’t even have to completely understand it yet. Awareness is a beginning. You can’t process what you keep pretending isn’t there.

Maybe you’ve become really good at functioning too. You’re dependable. People count on you. You keep showing up, even when you’re tired. Maybe you’ve started over and everybody thinks you should be excited about your new beginning, but there are still parts of your old life you’re grieving. Or maybe you love God deeply, but there are questions, disappointments, and emotions you’ve been afraid to bring into your relationship with Him. You’ve told yourself to move on, get over it, pray harder, stay positive, or keep going. But maybe you don’t need another reason to push harder. Maybe you need permission to finally acknowledge what’s actually happening inside you.

And if you’ve been managing your emotions just well enough to keep functioning but know something inside you needs to change, this is the kind of deeper work I help my clients begin inside the Confidence Mindset Program. I help people feel sure of themselves and live on purpose by teaching them how to change the way they think and partner with God to co-create the life they truly want. Together, we work on becoming aware of the thoughts and emotions underneath your patterns, acknowledging what’s really there, processing what you’ve been carrying, and learning healthier ways to move forward with God instead of continuing to bury what hurts.

You don’t have to wait until you fall apart to decide you want something different. Schedule your consultation call at www.lifeisbutajourney.com to learn more about working with me inside the Confidence Mindset Program. You have spent enough time surviving your emotions. It’s time to understand them, process them, and begin making intentional choices from a place of greater peace, confidence, and self-trust.

Live Confidently on Purpose.

Letting Go of Control: The Hardest Thing I Didn’t Know I Needed

I used to think I was trusting God.

I prayed every day. I read my Bible. I believed He had a plan for my life.

But if I’m honest…

I also had a plan.

Actually, I had several.

I remember sitting at my kitchen table one evening with my planner open, sticky notes scattered everywhere, and a notebook filled with lists. I had written down three different ways to solve the same problem. I kept thinking, “If I can just figure this out, then I’ll finally be able to relax.”

But I never relaxed.

Every answer led to another question. Every plan made me think of another thing that could go wrong. I would finally crawl into bed at night, exhausted, and my mind would still be racing. I’d replay conversations that hadn’t even happened yet. I’d imagine every possible outcome. Then I’d wake up the next morning and do it all over again.

I wasn’t tired because I had too much to do.

I was tired because I was trying to carry things God never asked me to carry.

Looking back, I realized something that was hard to admit.

I wasn’t trying to control my life because I was strong.

I was trying to control it because I was scared.

Somewhere along the way, I convinced myself that if I could predict everything, prepare for everything, and plan for everything… maybe nothing could hurt me again.

Maybe you’ve felt that way too.

Maybe you’ve smiled through the meeting at work while your mind was somewhere else.

Maybe you’ve answered everyone’s phone calls, helped everyone solve their problems, and then sat quietly wondering why no one knew you were struggling.

Maybe you’ve prayed for peace but spent the rest of the day trying to force everything to work out the way you wanted.



I’ve been there.

The hardest part about surrender isn’t giving something to God.

The hardest part is leaving it with Him.

I wish I could tell you there was one prayer that changed everything.

There wasn’t.



I would pray in the morning and take my worries back before lunch. I’d tell God I trusted Him, and then I’d spend the rest of the day trying to fix the very thing I had just placed in His hands. I wasn’t lacking faith—I was learning what surrender actually looked like.

That’s why Proverbs 3:5–6 became so personal to me:

“Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to Him, and He will make your paths straight.”

Notice what God doesn’t say.

He doesn’t say, “Figure it out first.”

He doesn’t say, “Wait until you’re confident.”

He doesn’t say, “Come back when you have all the answers.”

He simply says… Trust Me.

That changed everything.

I realized surrender wasn’t one big moment.

It was hundreds of little moments.

It looked like choosing not to replay the same conversation for the tenth time.

It looked like praying instead of panicking.

It looked like admitting I didn’t know what was coming next—and believing God did.

Some days I did that well.

Some days I didn’t.

Because life is messy.

Faith can be messy.

Growth is definitely messy.



But here’s what I’ve learned: God has never asked us to come to Him with everything perfectly organized. He simply asks us to loosen our grip enough for Him to lead.

So today, don’t try to surrender your whole life.

Just surrender one thing.

One fear.

One relationship.

One decision.

One unanswered prayer.

Leave it with God today.

Then tomorrow…

Do it again.

That’s how trust grows.

That’s how peace begins.

And that’s how surrender slowly changes your life from the inside out.

Many people spend years looking for peace in busy schedules, expensive vacations, endless planning, or another distraction that promises a break from the pressure. Those things may help you escape for a little while, but they can’t renew the way you think or teach you how to trust God more deeply. Lasting peace begins with inner transformation.

That’s why I created the Confidence Mindset Program.

I help people feel sure of themselves and live on purpose by teaching them how to change the way they think and partner with God to build the life they truly want.

You don’t have to keep carrying the weight of trying to control everything on your own. You don’t have to keep living with a mind that never rests and a heart that never feels settled.

Schedule your consultation call today at lifeisbutajourney.com and join me inside the Confidence Mindset Program. Together, we’ll help you renew your mind, strengthen your faith, release what you were never meant to carry, and begin living with the confidence and peace that come from fully surrendering to God.

Until Next Time Remember to Live Confidently on Purpose…