Underneath
What's going on underneath #
Three things that tend to sit under the words.
Some hurts touch something bigger than the event.
For some people the idea grew from hearing “forget it, move on” as a child, or “that was ages ago”.
Under “I should be over it” there's often a quieter rule: “Strong people don't stay hurt.”
Reactions
What people often do #
- Tell everyone it's fine, then think about it at night
- Avoid the place, the song or the person's name
- Feel embarrassed for bringing it up, and change the subject
- Replay it in their head, trying to finally win the argument
- Get cross with themselves every time it comes back
The deck
The story in 6 cards #
Six short cards, from the moment to letting go.
An old photo in a drawer
A Sunday afternoon in Toronto. While tidying a drawer, you find an old photo from a friendship that ended badly two years ago. Your chest tightens. Then a second thought arrives, sharper: 'I should be over it by now'. You put the photo back quickly, annoyed at yourself, and the afternoon feels heavier than it did an hour ago.The feeling lingers longer than you expect.
You should be over it by now
Underneath sits a rule: 'I should be over it by now.' It sounds like moving on, being sensible. Plenty of people live by it without a second thought. But look at what it does: it adds a second hurt on top of the first. Now there's the old sting, plus a scolding for still feeling it, and the feeling has nowhere to go.
Why we want to feel strong
We hold a rule like that because we want to feel strong and finished. It is a very human wish, and a common one. Maybe people around you seemed to move on quickly. Maybe you were told not to dwell. Either way, wanting to feel better isn't wrong. It comes from wanting to leave the hurt behind. That deserves kindness, not blame.
The feeling pushed down again
Each time the rule speaks, the feeling gets pushed down again. None of it shows from the outside, but you feel it. Bit by bit, it all adds up. You avoid places and songs. You get cross with yourself for caring. You pretend everything is fine. The hurt doesn't fade by being scolded; it just goes quiet and comes back at odd moments, like this drawer on a Sunday.
Is the deadline worth it?
Ask yourself honestly: has holding this rule ever made the hurt go away faster? Or has it mostly added a second layer to it? Feelings don't follow a timetable, and there's no deadline for being over something. Take a moment with it, if you like. It is worth asking gently, without blame. Is holding this rule so tightly worth what it costs you?
No deadline for this
Letting go doesn't mean the hurt has to stay, or that you have to dwell on it. It means the feeling no longer gets scolded for being there. You can notice the sting, be kind to it, and put the photo back gently. Nothing else has to change first. That's where some peace comes back: the feeling can move at its own pace.
If what still hurts is a loss, or someone who frightened, threatened or hurt you, that is something else, and worth taking seriously; go gently, and a person you trust can hear it.
The flip
The old rule, and a new one to try #
The old ruleI should be over it by now.
A new rule to tryThere's no deadline. I can be kind to what's left.
Three small days
Try it for 3 days #
- Day 1
When the old feeling comes, say 'that still stings'
- Day 2
Do one gentle thing for yourself today
- Day 3
Let one feeling be there for a minute, without scolding it
Want to talk it through?
“Which old thing do you most often think you should be over?”
Free and private. No sign-up to start. The chat opens with this question.
Everything this deck knows
Go deeper #
What it sounds like, where it comes from, what it costs, and other ways to see it. Every question opens a chat on it.
How it lands
What was said
Six words said with a sigh #
“I should be over it by now.” Said about an old friend who stopped replying, a remark at a family lunch years ago, a plan that fell through, or a chance that went to someone else.
It's usually said with a little sigh, or an embarrassed laugh. Not about the hurt itself, but about still having it.
This deck is about everyday hurts like these. If yours is a death, an illness, being hurt or frightened by someone, or losing a job or a home, set this one aside; those are heavier than this deck, and nobody gets to time them.
Which old thing do you say it about?Talk about this ›
And who are you saying it to: yourself, or someone you imagine is keeping count?Talk about this ›
The first few seconds
The sting, then the second sting #
A name pops up in the family group chat. A song plays in a café. Someone mentions the old office. There's a small drop in the stomach, a warm face, a quick look away. The old thing is back for a second.
Then comes a second sting, often sharper than the first: “Why does this still get to me?” The first feeling is about what happened. The second is about being the kind of person who still feels it.
Which one stings more for you, the old hurt itself, or the telling-off that follows it?Talk about this ›
Which one would you put down first, if you could?Talk about this ›
Why it lands
Feelings don't read the calendar #
Many people carry a quiet idea of how long a hurt is allowed to last. A week for a rude remark. A month for a falling-out. The trouble is that feelings don't seem to know about these deadlines.
Some hurts touch something bigger than the event. A friend going quiet can touch being left out. A remark at lunch can touch not being taken seriously. When a small event touches a big thing, it can stay for a long time.
If the old thing still stings, what bigger thing might it be touching?Talk about this ›
Is it really about that day, or about what that day seemed to say?Talk about this ›
The voice inside
The voice with the stopwatch #
“It's been two years, come on.” “Other people would have moved on.” “This is so silly.” The voice sounds tired of you, the way an impatient relative might sound at the end of a long day.
It tends to speak up exactly when the feeling arrives, so the feeling never gets a moment on its own. Before the feeling can even be noticed, the telling-off for having it has already started.
What would happen if the voice let the feeling finish its sentence, just once?Talk about this ›
What might the feeling want to say?Talk about this ›
Where it comes from
Where it can come from
Where the deadline comes from #
For some people the idea grew from hearing “forget it, move on” as a child, or “that was ages ago”. In some families, getting back to normal quickly was a sign of being strong and easy to be around.
Others pick it up from watching people who seem to bounce back in a day: the friend who shrugs everything off, the relative who never mentions the past. From the outside, those people look like the right way to be.
Who taught you how long a hurt should last?Talk about this ›
Did they ever say it out loud, or did you work it out from watching?Talk about this ›
The belief under it
The rule underneath #
Under “I should be over it” there's often a quieter rule: “Strong people don't stay hurt.” Or: “If it still hurts, I'm doing something wrong.” Those rules sound tough and sensible, which is why they're rarely checked.
The rule probably helped once. In a busy house or a hard year, moving on fast kept things going. Nobody had time for long feelings. Getting back to normal was useful, and it may have been praised.
Is that still true now?Talk about this ›
Does pushing the feeling away make it leave, or does it just make it come back at odd times, like at 2 a.m. or in the middle of a meeting?Talk about this ›
What it costs
What it costs
What the stopwatch quietly costs #
It can mean never saying “that still hurts” to anyone, even a good friend. It can mean skipping the street where the old office was, or muting a group chat so a name won't pop up. Small detours, every week.
And there's a second cost. Every time the hurt comes back, it brings a little shame with it. Over a year, that shame can weigh more than the hurt itself. The old thing becomes harder to look at because looking at it starts to feel like a test.
What has the “should” cost you in the last year?Talk about this ›
A conversation not had, a place not visited, a night spent arguing with yourself?Talk about this ›
If it stays as it is
One ordinary Tuesday, a few years on #
Picture an ordinary Tuesday some years from now, on a day when “I should be over it” is still loud. It's only a picture to look at, not a prediction, and there's nothing to fix in it.
Maybe the same old name pops up and the same quick scolding follows. Maybe a street is still avoided, or a story is still never told. Maybe the hurt is small by then, but the telling-off is just as big. Just the day, as it goes.
Nothing here needs an answer yet. Looking at that day, what, if anything, do you notice?
Which part would you want to look different?Talk about this ›
Another way to see it
Another way to see it
Not over it is not stuck #
“Over it” sounds like a line you cross once and then it's done. Many people find hurts don't work like that. They get smaller, quieter and less frequent, but a reminder can still bring a bit of it back. That isn't going backwards.
A hurt that still comes back sometimes may simply mean it mattered. A friendship that went quiet was a real friendship. A job that ended was a real part of your life. Feeling something about real things is not a failure.
If a friend told you they still felt a bit sore about something from years ago, would you think they had failed?Talk about this ›
What would you think instead?Talk about this ›
Noticing it sooner
What people notice when they look closely #
When people look closely, many notice the hurt has already changed. It used to come every day; now it's once a month. It used to last an evening; now it's ten minutes. The “should” misses all of that.
Some also notice that the hurt is mixed with other things: missing the good parts, wishing it had ended differently, a small question that was never answered. It's not one feeling, so it doesn't leave all at once.
How has this old thing changed since the start, even a little?Talk about this ›
What part of it is still here, and what part has already gone?Talk about this ›
Making peace with it
Room for it, without a deadline #
Making peace here doesn't mean making the feeling disappear. It means letting it be a normal visitor rather than a sign of failing. It can come, stay a while, and go again.
Some people find that once they stop scolding themselves, the old hurt takes up less space. Not because it's fixed, but because there's no longer a fight on top of it. Just the feeling, not the feeling plus the telling-off.
This deck is about everyday hurts. If yours is a death, an illness, being hurt or frightened by someone, or losing a job or a home, set this one aside; those are heavier than this deck, and nobody gets to time them.
What would change if this hurt were allowed to come back now and then, without any shame attached?Talk about this ›
How much of the heaviness is the hurt, and how much is the “should”?Talk about this ›
A truer sentence
A truer sentence to keep nearby #
Instead of “I should be over it by now”, some people try: “It mattered, so it still comes back sometimes.” It doesn't promise anything or set a new deadline. It just describes what is actually happening.
It may feel strange to say at first, almost like giving in. Some people find that, said quietly a few times, it brings a kind of rest. Others find a different line suits them better, and that's fine too.
What would a truer sentence be, in your own words, one that doesn't scold you and doesn't pretend it's all gone?Talk about this ›
What to let be
Some days it comes back louder #
On a tired day, or near an old date, the hurt can come back louder than it has for months. That isn't proof of anything. Old feelings come and go with sleep, stress and small reminders, like the weather.
It can help to notice it and name it: “that old thing is here today”. You don't have to work it out tonight. You don't have to decide what it means. You can let it be there while the evening carries on.
Putting it down for the evening doesn't mean what happened was fine, or that it's settled. It only means it doesn't have to fill the whole evening.
What else could the evening hold?Talk about this ›
If it loosened
And if the “should” loosened, even a notch #
Imagine, only as a picture, the “should” a notch quieter. The old hurt still turns up now and then, but nobody inside is shouting at it. What is the first thing that feels different?
Many people picture small things first: hearing the old song and letting it play, walking down the old street once, saying “that still stings” to themselves without a sigh. What would your first small thing be?
None of this has to be shown to anyone. Whatever comes up is yours, and worth noticing. If you'd like to look at it properly, a chat is one tap away.
Small things to try
Something to try
A few small things people find useful #
- When the old feeling arrives, name it in your head: “there's that old sting”
- Notice the second sting, the telling-off, and let it pass without joining in
- Ask yourself quietly what part of it you still miss
- Notice how much smaller it is now than at the start
- Say “of course this still stings a bit” in your head, once
Small, and all optional. Pick whichever feels doable.
Pick a question
Talk it through #
Tap one. A chat with Dr. Thoughts opens on that question: free, private, no sign-up to start.
- Which old thing do you most often think you should be over?
- Who taught you how long a hurt is allowed to last?
- What feeling sits under it: missing, anger, embarrassment, or something else?
- On an ordinary day when this “should” is loud, what would you still be avoiding?
- If the “should” eased a little, what would you notice first?