What emotional baggage are you still carrying?
Updated: 3 days ago
We all carry emotional baggage with us. Some of it belongs to us, some of it was handed to us by other people, and some of it we've been carrying around for so long that we don't even realise it's there.
When we think about emotional baggage, we might imagine difficult memories or painful experiences from the past. And of course, these can be part of it. But often what we carry is much less obvious. It might be a belief about ourselves that we've never really questioned, a responsibility we took on a long time ago, or a way of coping that once helped us but doesn't seem to work quite so well anymore.
Sometimes it isn't until something starts to feel difficult in our adult lives that we begin to wonder what we're carrying and where it came from.
The things we learn about ourselves.
As children, we are constantly making sense of ourselves, other people and the world around us. We don't necessarily sit down and consciously decide what something means. We absorb messages through what happens around us, how people respond to us and what seems to help us feel accepted, connected or safe.
Perhaps you learnt that being easy and helpful gained approval, while expressing your needs caused problems. Maybe you came to believe that other people were cleverer, more capable or more important than you. You might have learnt to avoid conflict, keep your feelings to yourself or become very good at noticing everybody else's mood.
Sometimes these messages are spoken directly. Other times nobody actually says them at all.
A child who is repeatedly criticised may begin to believe I'm not good enough. A child who is praised for being independent might learn I shouldn't need anyone. Someone who grows up around unpredictable emotions may become very good at watching other people and trying to prevent things from going wrong.
At the time, we rarely recognise these things as beliefs or coping strategies. They're simply how life is.
When old ways of coping follow us into adulthood.
One of the interesting things about coping strategies is that they usually developed for a reason.
People-pleasing may have helped you avoid conflict. Staying quiet might have prevented an argument. Being fiercely independent may have meant you didn't have to experience the disappointment of relying on someone who wasn't available. Working incredibly hard might have brought recognition or helped you feel that you were good enough.
The problem is that we can continue using the same strategies long after the circumstances that created them have changed.
You might now find yourself saying yes when you want to say no, struggling to ask for help, overthinking conversations, apologising when you've done nothing wrong or feeling responsible for how everybody else is feeling.
You may know logically that you don't need to do these things, but changing them can be surprisingly difficult.
That's because we're not always dealing with a simple habit. Sometimes we're questioning something we've believed about ourselves or relationships for a very long time.
Carrying responsibilities that were never really yours.
Emotional baggage can also include responsibilities we've taken on for other people.
Perhaps you've become the person who keeps everybody happy, sorts out family problems or makes sure nobody is upset. You might feel responsible for a parent's feelings, a partner's mood or keeping the peace between other family members.
Sometimes this begins very early.
If you grew up in an environment where you needed to be particularly helpful, mature or aware of other people's emotions, taking responsibility for others can start to feel like a natural part of who you are.
As an adult, putting that responsibility down can feel uncomfortable. You might experience guilt when you stop fixing things or worry that you're becoming selfish.
But there is a difference between caring about somebody and being responsible for everything they feel.
Recognising that difference can take time.
When your emotional baggage feels like your personality.
Perhaps one of the reasons these patterns can be difficult to recognise is that, after carrying them for long enough, they can begin to feel like personality traits.
"I'm just a worrier."
"I've always been a people-pleaser."
"I'm just someone who hates conflict."
"I don't need anyone."
"I've always been hard on myself."
And some of those things may genuinely be part of your personality. Therapy isn't about examining everything about yourself and deciding it must have come from childhood.
But sometimes it can be useful to become curious.
Is this simply who I am, or is this something I learnt to do?
What happens if I don't do it?
What am I frightened might happen if I behave differently?
And perhaps most importantly: does this still work for me?
Unpacking rather than getting rid of everything.
I like the idea of unpacking emotional baggage because therapy isn't necessarily about getting rid of your past or trying to become a completely different person.
Some of the things you've learnt may be qualities you really value.
Being sensitive to other people's feelings can make you thoughtful and compassionate. Independence can give you resilience. Working hard can bring a sense of achievement. Being able to recognise the atmosphere in a room can make you incredibly perceptive.
The aim doesn't have to be to throw all of that away.
Instead, you can begin to look at what you're carrying and decide what still belongs in your life.
Perhaps you'd like to remain caring without feeling responsible for everyone.
You might still enjoy helping people while becoming more comfortable saying no.
You can be independent while also learning that it's okay to need support.
You might still work hard without your self-worth depending on how much you achieve.
It becomes less about rejecting who you've been and more about having a choice about who you want to be now.
What might you be ready to put down?
Therapy can provide a space to begin unpacking some of this without judgement. To look at where particular beliefs, behaviours and patterns may have come from, understand why they made sense at the time, and consider whether you still need them today.
Sometimes that process involves recognising things you've carried for years without realising they weren't yours to carry in the first place. At other times, it's about understanding yourself with a little more compassion and recognising that a way of coping that frustrates you now may once have served an important purpose.
You don't have to open the whole suitcase at once.
Sometimes it starts by noticing one thing you've been carrying and becoming curious about it.
Where did this come from?
Is it actually mine?
Does it still fit the person I am now?
And if it doesn't, what might it feel like to finally put it down?
If you recognise some of these patterns in yourself and feel ready to start exploring what you might still be carrying from the past, you’re welcome to get in touch. I offer a free 15-minute consultation where we can have a brief chat about what’s bringing you to therapy, what you’d like support with and whether working together feels like the right fit for you.
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