i have to stop hurting my own feelings
"I just think I should be warmer. You know the kind of therapist I'm talking about; they wear the waffle cardigan and are affirmative and sweet. They have an adorable cat that accidentally walks into view at the perfect time during a session." I say, leaning forward, chin resting on my hands as I stare into the screen.
"I don't think that's why your patients come to you or stay with you. You're the challenging, get shit done kind of therapist. Don't get me wrong, you have a lot of empathy and compassion, but it seems you don't own the cat; you ARE the cat. Not the purring tucked under the nook of your arm kind of cat, you’re a sassy cat." Dave, my therapist for the last decade, says with a grin.
Most people wonder how they come off at work. Therapists are not above these musings; Dave and I discuss them quite a bit. It's not just work, though. I wonder how I am perceived in life. In fact, I'm so curious about what people think of me, I've contemplated sending out a survey to everyone I know with questions like "What is one word you would use to describe me?," “Do you feel this is a worthwhile relationship?," and "Are we good?!" This questionnaire would be useful in all aspects of my life—work, marriage, friends, and of course, family. If everyone I had ever encountered answered just a few simple questions, I would know if I am doing it right.
I haven't always felt this way, and I'm not sure what my sudden urge for feedback and validation is about. It could be the perimenopause, all those changing hormones kicking me back to feeling like the insecure teenager I used to be. Or, it could be some of the life events that have happened over the last few years. Whatever it is, I suspect if I actually went through with disseminating this survey, I would get a lot of valuable information, and I would most definitely be setting myself up to hurt my own feelings.
Take my marriage, for example. Jason and I have known each other for almost 20 years, and when we fight, albeit less often than ever, it's the same fight as the first one we had in 2006 when we started dating. I feel his mood shift, become hypervigilant, and get mad and accusatory, as if his state has something to do with me. He gets defensive and offended, and says it's not about me, and I don't believe him. But I don't really not believe him, it's more my triggered state that makes it hard for me to accept what he is saying to be true. I know now that approaching him in this way will only lead to getting my feelings hurt, so why do I keep doing it? Why does he keep responding in the same ways that hurt his own feelings? Is this just our nature? We just had our yearly tussle, and let me tell you, I have not learned to do it differently, and I did a bang-up job of hurting my own feelings (and his).
Recently, Jason and I have been talking more about why we do this. We ask one another, “Why do we keep taking actions we know will result in some sort of pain?”
These are avoidable circumstances, ones we know how to prevent. It's not masochism; we don't want the pain. It's just that we can't help ourselves from compulsively seeking something that we know we can't get, at least not the way we are doing it, always resulting in some kind of emotional distress.
It happens more frequently than either of us cares for. With work, a dismissive email could send us spinning when others would brush it off. Friends and family can easily hurt us with an innocuous text, like a one-word "okay," or carelessly commenting on something we are sensitive about in a matter-of-fact way. A writing critique or rejection can cause a depressive slump for days, with self-recrimination being part of that particular package. It's like in these moments, we lack any internal self-validation system. Where does it run off to when we need it most? Could our matching Libra sun signs be the culprit behind our tendency to put ourselves in situations where we are hurt?
By nature, Libras are fair-minded, diplomatic givers. We are prone to carrying grudges and self-pity. Libras love sharing and hate injustice. Compliment us on something in our house or on our person, and within a couple of weeks, you will find a version of that object in your mailbox. So, Libras like giving, but also enjoy receiving feedback about what we have given, and if we don't get it, we get sad, mad, and resentful. Are all Libras this highly sensitive, or is it just us?
My work lacks direct assessment, and I’ve learned how to avoid relying on it. I don't get a mid-year or year-end review. I mean, truthfully, it's a relief because they sound brutal (10 pages about your strengths and weaknesses laid out in corporate speak meant to withhold raises and promotions? No thanks). I’m acutely aware I have no way beyond how my patients change and grow (which, at times, takes years) to assess my performance. How do I know if I'm doing a good job? Or if they are getting what they want out of this work? Check-ins are a given in most sessions. "How did that land for you?" "What do you think about what I just said? "How is that coping skill working out?" But it just doesn't hit like the frank feedback I yearn for right now.
I am less inclined than ever before to believe in people or even the universe the way I used to. Perhaps that is where this need for validation is stemming from. Jason and I opened an independent bookstore in our neighborhood in 2020 with a solid business plan and the vocal backing of the community at large. Six weeks into our existence, the one thing we didn't plan for, a pandemic, began, and though we struggled for almost three years to stay afloat, we could not withstand it. Now, of course, we blame COVID for our failure, but we also blame the community. Where were they when we needed them most? Where was Sarah, a fellow business owner who, before we even signed our lease, said, "A bookstore is essential, I would be there every day!" Or the couple from the brewery who were like, "Oh my god, there are no quiet places to just sit and have a conversation here, a bookstore would be great for that!" Or the countless others who claimed this is just what our area needed? After going out on such a limb, trusting the lip service of our neighbors and supposed friends, and being so sorely let down, something broke in me. I no longer trust myself or others, at least not in the same way I used to.
Writing has the same potential for self-injury. I like it when people tell me that something resonated with them, but I have yet to have someone reach out to tell me how much I suck. I mean, I'm sure people think it, but I'm not popular enough to get the trolls in my inbox telling me I should kill myself or worse. I don't want that kind of notoriety, but I do aim for a larger audience. Could I handle the feedback from all those people right now? My current, fragile state indicates no.
Another minefield for hurt feelings of your own making is friendship. I love my friends, and I have a tough time giving up these relationships even when it's really fucking obvious the person has no interest in me anymore. I have a very old friend, Ginger, who hasn't been the first to text me, ask me to hang out, or invite me to her house since her first kid was born, now 12 years ago. She is obviously over me, and still, I keep texting every three months to try to stay in touch. I'm done now because the last time we texted, I invited Ginger yet again to my home, and she didn't actually answer whether she would visit, just hearted it. Every time I interact with her, I get sad. High-school outcast level sad. Why do I want her to keep proving I'm not worth caring about when every Mother's Day, birthday, holiday, I'm out here sending a card and being like, "Do you still love me?" The lackluster response, if any, each time is the answer.
Social media is the absolute best place to hurt your own feelings. The other day, I received an astrology reading. A fifteen-minute video message from a friend of a friend's astrologer who provides the answer to "one burning question" based on your birth chart. A big focus of her reading was on how she saw that "for the next two years, it will be tough for you to gain any traction on social media. You'll have very few likes, but people are reading your stuff; they just aren't great at engaging. It's not you, it's them," she says. Every time I post a new piece of writing published in a literary magazine, or a video of me playing the guitar, or to my Substack, I know the best I can hope for is ten likes, if I'm lucky. I appreciate those ten people, but my spirit gets a little broken every time I see that someone watched my story and didn't press the heart to show appreciation for what I've created.
So am I just a perpetual kindergartner? Bringing home my weird little artwork and wanting my parents to love it and hang it on the fridge with the magnet they got on vacation from Niagara Falls? Perhaps.
I don't really remember my childhood, but I could imagine there was a lack of validation there. My family still provides plenty of opportunities for me to hurt my own feelings. At age 42, I'm still asking my mom and brother for things they absolutely can't give me and saying in therapy, "What's wrong with me that they won't change?" Intellectually, I know it's not me, but the emotional mantra stuck in my head remains the same: "You are not worth it."
If I'm being honest, I've always been as sensitive as I'm being right now, but maybe I'm just more aware of it in this moment because I don't want to hurt my own feelings anymore. I'm no longer motivated by my need for others to tell me I'm enough. That yearning used to drive me to do more, be more, now I just find it exhausting. I want to find some chill and believe that I can trust what people say and do and stop wondering what they actually think or if they will soon abandon me.
I bring my ponderings back to Dave in my next therapy session and ask, "Do you think I need to soften my personality, be less in your face and no bullshit, more comforting? Would that make me more palatable, easier to stay with? Or, should I just be myself?" I say, the worry line in between my wide, green eyes creasing more than usual.
"In life or in work?”
“Both?”
“Your job is not to comfort. It's to be curious, help them explore what's going on, and help lead them to their own discovery. It's not to coddle. It's to challenge and investigate with them and within yourself. Do you do that?" Dave says, his serious expression belying how much he would like me to take in what he is saying.
"Yes."
"Well, given your retention rate, I'd say you're doing okay just as you are."
"Sure, at work. But what about in life?”
"Let's explore that."
References:
https://www.zodiacsign.com/zodiac-signs/libra/
https://www.heraldtimesonline.com/story/lifestyle/2016/01/25/9-sure-ways-to-never-get-hur/117615960/
https://psychcentral.com/blog/psychology-self/2017/08/validation-from-wrong-people#3
Jianna Heuer is a Psychotherapist in New York City. She writes nonfiction and fiction. Her work has appeared in The Massachusetts Review, The Hooghly Review, The Inquisitive Eater, and other literary journals. Her flash non-fiction has appeared in two books, Fast Funny Women and Fast Fierce Women, and her essay collection was a finalist for the 2026 Trio House Press Aurora Polaris Creative Nonfiction Book Award. Check out more of her work here: www.jiannaheuerwrites.com