Underneath
What's going on underneath #
Three things that tend to sit under the words.
Once for whatever caused the feeling, and once for having the feeling set aside.
Some people heard versions of it growing up: “stop crying over nothing”, “you take everything to heart”, “don't make a scene”.
Underneath, a belief can form: “I'm too sensitive,” or “Speaking up only makes things worse.”
Reactions
What people often do #
- Drop it straight away and say “yeah, maybe I am”
- Explain again, with more detail, hoping it lands this time
- Go quiet for the evening and replay what was said
- Share less next time, so there's less to be waved off
- Search online later to check whether the feeling was reasonable
The deck
The story in 6 cards #
Six short cards, from the moment to letting go.
The shrug when you finally spoke up
You finally say what has been bothering you: something a colleague said that stung. Your friend shrugs and says, “You're overthinking it.” Then changes the subject. You nod. But the feeling doesn't go away; now it has a second layer on top, the one that says maybe it is silly to feel it at all. You go home quieter than you came.
Brushed off means your feelings are wrong
The words land on a rule that may already be there: 'If someone says I'm overthinking, my feelings must be wrong.' It sounds humble. But look at what it does: it lets other people decide whether your feelings are real. Your trust in yourself now depends on whether someone else agrees that you have a right to feel what you feel.
Why we learned not to fuss
We hold it because we were often told to stop making a fuss. Maybe you grew up being called too sensitive whenever you were upset about anything. Maybe you learned that keeping feelings small kept things calm at home. Either way, the rule isn't silly. It comes from wanting to be easy to be around. That deserves kindness, not blame.
Trusting yourself a little less
Every brushed-off feeling makes you trust yourself a little less. You stop sharing what bothers you. You argue with yourself about whether being upset is even allowed. You feel alone with things, even with friends around. Slowly your own feelings start to feel like problems to hide, and the people around you know less and less of what's really going on.
Is their verdict worth trusting?
Ask yourself honestly: has letting others decide whether your feelings count ever made them smaller? Or has it mostly made them heavier and lonelier? Feelings aren't right or wrong; they just are, and the brush-off was someone else's to say. Either way, one shrug isn't the measure of your feelings. Holding this rule so tightly costs you more than it gives you.
Your feelings are real
Letting go doesn't mean the brush-off was kind. It means your feelings are real, whether someone agrees or not. You can notice what you feel, take it seriously yourself, and share it with someone who listens, when you want to. That's where some peace comes back: you stop arguing with yourself, and your feelings get to be what they are.
If someone puts you down, threatens, hurts or frightens you for having feelings, that is something else, and worth taking seriously; staying quiet can be the safe choice.
The flip
The old rule, and a new one to try #
The old ruleIf someone says I'm overthinking, my feelings are wrong.
A new rule to tryMy feelings are real, whether others agree or not.
Three small days
Try it for 3 days #
- Day 1
Name one feeling you had today, just to yourself
- Day 2
Think of one person who usually listens well
- Day 3
When you argue with yourself, say 'it's okay to feel this'
Want to talk it through?
“What were you trying to say when those words came?”
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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
A quick line that closes the topic #
Finally the thing that has been bothering you all week comes out: a remark at dinner, a plan that changed, a tone in a message. “You're overthinking it.” “Don't be so sensitive.” Then the conversation moves on to something else.
It might come from a parent, a friend, a colleague or someone close, often said quickly, sometimes with a small laugh. The words are few, but they can leave the feeling that was just shared with nowhere to go.
When did you last put a feeling into words and watch it get waved away?Talk about this ›
What did you do with it afterwards, once the room had moved on?Talk about this ›
The first few seconds
Why it stings in the first second #
Some people feel a flush of heat, then a sudden wish to take the words back. Some go quiet in the middle of a sentence; others hear their own voice rise as they try to explain again, faster this time, with more detail.
Sharing a feeling is a small risk, and some people are quick to sense whether it was received. Being waved off in that moment can register in the body like a door closing, well before any thinking has started.
The reply that would have explained it properly can turn up later, on the drive home or at 2am.
What did your body do in that second, and how long did it take to settle?Talk about this ›
Why it lands
It answers the feeling, not the thing #
The words don't speak to what happened: the remark, the plan, the tone. They speak about the feeling instead, as if the feeling were the problem, and so the original thing gets left on the table, unlooked at.
That can sting twice. Once for whatever caused the feeling, and once for having the feeling set aside. Some people say the second sting stays longer, because it seems to say something about them, not just about that evening.
Some people find it useful to pull the two stings apart.
Which one stays with you longer: the thing itself, or the brush-off?Talk about this ›
And what was the feeling about, before it was waved away?Talk about this ›
The voice inside
When the brush-off starts coming from inside #
Hear it often enough and the line can move in. “Am I making this bigger than it is?” “Is it worth saying?” “Maybe I should just leave it.” The feeling gets questioned before anyone else has had a chance to.
Some people notice they now trim what they share before saying it, turning a real hurt into “it's nothing, just a small thing” so it sounds reasonable enough. The other person isn't even there, but the brushing-off still happens.
Whose voice is it when it asks whether this is worth saying?Talk about this ›
Does it sound like your own careful judgement, or like a line you were handed a long time ago?Talk about this ›
Where it comes from
Where it can come from
For some people, it's a familiar line #
Some people heard versions of it growing up: “stop crying over nothing”, “you take everything to heart”, “don't make a scene”. In some families, strong feelings were calmed down quickly, and the reasons for that differ widely.
Some people trace a rule about feelings back to early years; some don't. Either way, it can be looked at. A rule like “keep feelings small” can still be running at thirty, long after the house has changed.
Which feelings were welcome where you grew up, and which ones were hushed?Talk about this ›
Who did you learn to check with before a feeling was allowed to count?Talk about this ›
The belief under it
A quiet rule that can take root #
Underneath, a belief can form: “I'm too sensitive,” or “Speaking up only makes things worse.” For some it's quieter still: “My side of it rarely counts,” or “It was probably my fault for minding.”
Beliefs like these don't feel like beliefs. They feel like simple facts about personality, the kind of thing people say about themselves with a shrug. That is exactly what makes them worth a second look.
Some people trace a rule like this back to early years; some don't. Either way, it can be looked at, with the people around you now. Which rooms does it still fit, and which not?
What it costs
What it costs
What keeping it small can cost #
It can mean saying “it's fine” when it isn't, letting small hurts pile up unspoken, or apologising for having brought something up at all. Some people start doubting their own read on situations, even ones that seemed clear at the time.
Over months it can make closeness feel a little lonelier, because the parts that feel most real go unsaid. Others get a tidier, quieter version, and some people notice they feel unknown even at a table full of familiar faces.
Not out of weakness. Keeping a feeling folded up takes effort, even when nobody can see it.
What has it cost this past year: a conversation that never happened, a hurt that stayed unsaid?Talk about this ›
If it stays as it is
Five more years of keeping it small #
Picture one ordinary Tuesday on a day when “I'm too sensitive” is loud. What is in it: the conversations, the messages, the feelings trimmed down, the things left unsaid? It's only a picture to look at, nothing to fix.
Perhaps a comment at breakfast folded away, a message rewritten to sound lighter, a “no worries” typed in reply, a thought about the day kept for the drive home.
Nothing here needs an answer yet, and nothing has to change because of it. Looking at that day, what, if anything, do you notice?
What fills the day, and what gets passed over?Talk about this ›
Another way to see it
Another way to see it
A feeling is not a mistake #
A feeling isn't a sum that can be done wrong. Some people find it goes with something that counted for them: a tone that seemed cold, a plan that changed without warning, a joke that touched something tender from long ago.
Whether it was “too much” is a separate question from whether it was real. A feeling can be both real and worth a second look, and neither of those makes the person who felt it the problem in the room.
If a friend said the same feeling out loud to you, would it sound like overthinking, or like someone noticing something?Talk about this ›
What would you want them to hear back?Talk about this ›
Noticing it sooner
What people notice when they look again #
When people go back to the moment slowly, some find the feeling was about something specific: the comment at the table, or the plan dropped at the last minute.
Others notice they had been treating one sentence from one person as the final word on their feelings. Looked at again, it was one reply, on one evening, and the feeling had been there before it and was still there after.
What was yours about, when you slow it down?Talk about this ›
Which feelings have you trimmed lately before sharing them?Talk about this ›
And what would the untrimmed version have said, in one plain sentence?Talk about this ›
Making peace with it
No need to win them over #
Making peace doesn't mean agreeing that the feeling was silly, or waiting for the other person to finally understand it. It means the feeling gets taken seriously, first of all, by the one who had it.
Some people find it lighter once they stop needing somebody else's approval for a feeling to count. It can be real, noticed and respected, even when it stays private. Some rooms really won't listen, and you don't have to test them.
What would it be like to treat your own feeling the way you'd treat a friend's: heard first, weighed later, and not argued out of existence?Talk about this ›
A truer sentence
A truer sentence to keep close #
If “I'm too sensitive” has been running for years, there's no need to fight it head on. Some people keep a line like “I noticed something, and it's allowed to affect me” ready instead.
It may feel unfamiliar at first, even a little bold. Some people find that, said quietly and often, it takes up a little of the space the old line filled, especially in the minutes right after a feeling is waved away.
What would a truer line be in your own words, one that doesn't claim the feeling was huge, only that it was real?Talk about this ›
What to let be
Some of it can simply be felt #
Not every brushed-off feeling needs a second attempt at explaining, or a verdict on who was right. Some of it can be noticed, felt fully for a moment, and then set down, without shrinking it first.
That isn't agreeing with the brush-off. It's choosing where your energy goes, and some people say it leaves them steadier, with more room for the conversations that do feel open and easy.
Setting a feeling down for the evening doesn't mean it was fine, or that it's settled. It only means it doesn't have to travel into everything else tonight, and it can be picked up again whenever you choose.
If it loosened
And if the rule loosened, even a notch #
Imagine, only as a picture, the rule a notch quieter. A feeling still gets weighed, but it isn't put on trial first. What is the first thing that feels different?
Small things can be enough, such as naming a feeling to yourself without an apology attached, telling a friend about it once instead of three times, an evening not spent replaying one reply.
Nothing here needs to be said 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.
What would yours be?Talk about this ›
Small things to try
Something to try
A few small things people try #
- When the feeling comes up, name it plainly in your head: “that stung”
- Ask yourself quietly what exactly the feeling is about, in one short line
- When the inner voice says “overthinking”, ask it back: or just thinking?
- Notice one feeling today and let it count, without trimming it first
- Notice one small thing you wanted today, however small
Small, private and all optional. Try whichever feels doable.
Pick a question
Talk it through #
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