I Spent Years Running from My Emotions. Here’s What Happened When I Stopped

Since I was a kid, I always felt like something was off. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it—whether it was struggling to connect, feeling different, or carrying an unshakable loneliness. As I moved into my teenage years, that unease transformed into depression. But I became an expert at hiding it. I masked it with a smile, buried it under distractions, and swept it under the carpet, pretending it wasn’t there.

For a while, this survival mechanism worked. It bought me time, allowing me to move through life as if everything was fine. But beneath the surface, my carefully constructed sandcastle was starting to crumble. I began punishing myself, disconnecting from the world around me, and losing sight of any real meaning in my life.

I felt like a leaf being tossed and turned in the rapids—completely powerless, overtaken by emotions I didn’t understand. I had no clarity, no control, and most painfully, I couldn’t give or receive love. Then, like so many of us experience, the moment came when everything fell apart. The shit hit the fan.

Loss. Addictions. Physical decline. Toxic relationships.

Each hit harder than the last, forcing me to finally confront myself—my spiritual, emotional, and physical existence. That’s when I stopped running. Instead of escaping, I turned inwards. I sat in the silence. I embraced the noise. I let every suppressed emotion rise to the surface. The good. The bad. The unbearable. And I did something radical—I listened.

I began to see my emotions not as enemies, but as messengers. Triggers became signposts. Fear became my teacher. Anger and resentment, my old foes, turned into unexpected allies. Without judgment, I allowed myself to absorb and process everything. It was the clarity I had been searching for all along.

The greatest tool in my transformation was awareness.

I remember reading The Untethered Soul by Michael Singer and being struck by a simple truth: I am not my emotions—I am the observer of them. That realization cracked everything open for me. I no longer needed to identify with the pain. I could witness it, learn from it, and then let it go. And in that release, I found a freedom I never knew existed.

Don’t get me wrong—this wasn’t some Hollywood-style moment of resolution where everything suddenly became perfect. If anything, it was the beginning of a whole new journey. A Matrix-like choice: red pill or blue pill. I had opened my own Pandora’s box, and there was no turning back.

Now, I walk through life with a simple truth: I don’t know what I don’t know.

And that’s the beauty of it. I remain open—to receiving, to listening, to embracing, to giving. No longer weighed down by the past, I am unapologetically myself. Ready for whatever comes, anchored in authenticity and presence.

So, if you’ve been running from yourself, if you’ve been numbing, escaping, or pretending—it’s okay. I’ve been there. But I can tell you this: the moment you stop running and turn to face yourself, you’ll realize that everything you were searching for was inside you all along.

Are you ready to stop running?