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Who Am I to Steal Your Sadness?


For most of my life, I thought love meant protecting the people I cared about from uncomfortable feelings.


If I thought something might make you sad...


I wouldn't say it.


If I thought you might become irritated...


I'd soften it.


If I thought you might feel disappointed...


I'd try to fix it before you ever experienced it.


It looked loving.


It felt loving.


But I'm beginning to see there was something quietly hidden underneath.


I didn't trust that the people I loved could handle their own emotions.


Somehow, I had unconsciously decided it was my job to manage everyone else's emotional weather.


Here's what I'm learning instead.


Every one of us was given the full palette.


Joy.


Wonder.


Gratitude.


Grief.


Anger.


Disappointment.


Fear.


Relief.


Peace.


We weren't handed a box of crayons with half the colors removed.


Life intends for us to use all of them.


Who am I to decide someone shouldn't experience sadness?


Or frustration?


Or grief?


Or even be upset with me?


Those emotions aren't evidence that something has gone wrong.


They're evidence that someone is fully alive.


The irony is that the more I tried to protect people from difficult feelings, the less authentic our relationships became.


Real intimacy doesn't come from carefully managing each other's emotions.


It comes from trusting each other's capacity to feel them.


To be hurt.


To recover.


To disagree.


To grieve.


To forgive.


To laugh again.


Children color inside the lines because they're learning.


Adults eventually discover that some of the most beautiful art appears when we stop worrying about staying inside them.


Maybe our emotional lives are the same.


Use every crayon.


Draw boldly.


Let the page become whatever it becomes.


And when it's time...


Turn the page.


There's another blank one waiting. 

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