Emotional Clutter: Letting go of the past.

If we hold onto our past, how can we ever learn to live in our future?

This is a question I ask myself constantly, especially when I notice old emotional patterns creeping back in, nudging me toward behaviours I no longer need. What part of me is still clinging to an outdated way of thinking? What lesson do I need to unlearn?

Because here's the truth: any emotional clutter we repeat over and over is something we have, on some level, accepted. We haven't yet found a resolution to let it go. Often, we don't even realise we're reacting the same way until we step back and reflect.

For years, whenever I started a new job, I would do the same thing: I'd dive in, excited and dedicated, throwing myself into it with full energy. Sure, I was nervous, but I believed I'd do well if I worked hard.

And then, like clockwork, the emotional breakdown would come at around the three-week mark. Maybe I made a mistake or didn't follow a procedure perfectly. Maybe someone asked me something I didn't know. Whatever the trigger, I'd find myself sitting in my car, in floods of tears, ignoring everything I had achieved and convinced I was failing.

The sobs were loud, snotty, and uncontrollable. The thoughts spiralled: What if they regret hiring me? What if they think I'm not good enough? What if I mess this up completely? Jorge would listen patiently as I repeated the same panicked words between sobs: Why did I do that? When will I learn? Why does this always happen?

And yet, was I ever fired? No. Did anyone even make a big deal about what I had done "wrong"? No. But the fear was real. It felt so real because somewhere along the way, I had taught myself that making a mistake meant rejection. If I let someone down, I would be cast aside. So, each time I felt a hint of disappointment, my body responded with an overwhelming flood of emotion.

It took me time to understand that I was holding onto emotional clutter: old beliefs about disappointment and rejection that no longer served me. They weren't just appearing out of nowhere. They were wired into my system, triggered by moments that, on the surface, seemed insignificant but tapped into something much deeper.

We all do this.

So much of the emotional weight we carry today, especially the intense, heavy, and visceral ones, is echoed from our past, memories we locked away but never truly let go.

I remember signing up for the school talent show when I was a child. I performed You Don't Own Me (First Wives Club version, obviously). I was nervous and pitchy. I didn't win. Fair enough. But what I remember most is the crushing feeling of disappointment. The certainty that I had let everyone down and that I should have done better. No one said that to me, and I knew my family was proud, but in my mind, I had failed.

And so, decades later, every time I stepped into a situation where I had to perform or prove myself, that old feeling stirred in me. It became part of my emotional clutter.

We do this at work, in relationships, and in parenting. We spin ourselves into emotional overwhelm before we've begun because our minds protect us from feeling something again: vulnerability, rejection, failure.

One of my strongest values is pride, and because of that, I will do almost anything to protect it. It's not always a helpful trait, but knowing it's there helps me understand how it shows up, especially in moments of vulnerability and self-doubt.

The thing is, emotions themselves are fleeting. A single chemical reaction lasts in our body for about 90 seconds. That's it. But what keeps them alive is the story we attach to them. The old beliefs, the ingrained fears, the meanings we have assigned to what they must mean about us.

And that is what creates emotional clutter.

It's not the emotion itself that weighs us down. It's how we layer it with past hurts, outdated beliefs, and narratives we've carried for far too long.

So, what if we stopped? What if, instead of burying our emotions, we listened to them? What if we recognised that they weren't here to sabotage us but to teach us something?

Take anger. It's often seen as destructive, but at its core, anger gives us the power to be assertive and to stand up for ourselves.

Sadness? It teaches us empathy, depth, and understanding.

Fear heightens our awareness and keeps us sharp.

Guilt shapes our moral compass.

Shame gives us humility.

Hurt reminds us of our self-respect.

Every emotion we try to suppress actually has a purpose. But instead of using the emotions for what they were meant for, we complicate them. We bury them under old stories and let them dictate our lives.

If we can begin to understand our emotions rather than drown in them, we can finally start clearing out the clutter.

Recently, I've been working with clients on this. Helping them navigate their emotions faster so they don't stay stuck in anger, sadness, or fear for weeks. And it starts with the most straightforward but most potent question:

What is this emotion trying to tell me?

What made you so resentful or frustrated in the first place? Were you not heard or understood as a child? Did you struggle to assert yourself? Did you grow up feeling like you had to prove your worth?

These questions help us clear the emotional weight we carry. To truly let go of emotional clutter, we need to stop seeing our emotions as problems to fix and start seeing them as messages to understand.

And when we do that, we free ourselves.

Not just from the past.

But for the future.

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Time To Clear The Internal Clutter

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