I am an emotional being. I feel my feelings to my very core.

“Irrational.” “Needy.” “Crazy.” “Sensitive.”


I’ve been told to “get over it”. Tramp those feelings down. Compact them until they exist only in a tiny cube inside my body. Deep down. Out of reach. Away from other people. Other people shouldn’t be bothered with my feelings.

I was afraid of my emotions for a very long time. I was afraid of how others would react to them. What would they think if they knew how I felt? I held back. I missed moments and let connections pass too easily. I convinced myself that my burden was my own to bear, alone. My heart was not to be the concern of anyone but myself.


I withered. I was unable to honestly share myself with the people I loved and the people I wanted to find love with. Looking back, I feel sadness because I have learned so much about embracing these swirling thought-feelings that course through my veins. There are times I wish I could reach back, grab a missed lover by the hand and say, “Are you ready to see me now?” Because now I am able to see myself.


By loving my emotions — my large, aggressive, adjective-ridden emotions — I have found love in myself that I didn’t know I had. It is a deep love of self; of mind and body. I rejoice with the quirky woman before me in the mirror. I have found a deep appreciation of the people who I choose to love. They are those who want to feel deeply with me, not react against me. My friends, my boyfriend, my family, they are ready for me at my fullest. And if they are not ready, they are at least open and patient. They are ready to laugh with me one moment and cry the next (or have a tissue ready).  


These powerful feelings have been creating the woman I am today my whole life. I would not be her if it weren’t for the intensity, the propensity, the depth and breadth of my emotions. This connection with myself has allowed me to find my way back to writing. I have reconnected with a creativity long latent. I am able to find deeper meanings in my sensory indulgences: food, sex, music, books. They are pleasures that make me feel, make me reconnect with the woman-soul inside my body.


I am able to love with abandon, fully and fiercely. Loving my whole has allowed me to be able to give more freely of myself. I am also more able to fight for myself, to stand up and say “No!”. I am in possession of myself while feeling more deeply than ever before. My emotions have sculpted the powerful me.

Liz LaBrocca is a freelance writer based in Western Massachusetts. She explores herself through writing, cooking, and photography. She tends to always be in the middle of three books and a knitting project. Read more of her writing here and follow her on Instagram and Twitter