Untangle Your Emotions

Untangle Your Emotions Plot Summary

Introduction

Have you ever felt overwhelmed by emotions you couldn't quite name? I remember sitting in my car after a particularly difficult meeting, my chest tight, tears threatening to spill over, unable to start the engine because I couldn't understand why I was reacting so strongly. The meeting hadn't gone badly—in fact, by all objective measures, it was successful. Yet there I was, frozen, tangled in feelings that made no logical sense. This emotional paralysis isn't uncommon. Many of us navigate life with our feelings knotted up inside us, creating invisible barriers to authentic connections and true fulfillment. We've been taught to control, cope with, or conceal our emotions rather than truly feel them. But what if our emotions aren't meant to be fixed? What if they're meant to be felt—and furthermore, what if they're the very pathway to deeper connections with ourselves, others, and God? Throughout these pages, we'll explore how emotions were designed not as obstacles to overcome but as guides that connect us to what matters most. You'll discover a five-step process to untangle your emotions, create space for healing, and find the courage to share your feelings authentically. The journey toward emotional freedom isn't always comfortable, but it leads to a wholehearted life that's worth every difficult step.

Chapter 1: The Messy Reality of Our Emotional Lives

When Kate, the author's oldest daughter, got married, everything about the day was perfect—the weather, the venue, the people. Yet surprisingly, post-wedding, the author found herself emotionally wrecked. The reason? Kate and her new husband Charlie were starting their own family unit, separate from the nuclear family she'd been part of. During a casual dinner conversation, Kate mentioned potential plans that included phrases like "out of the state" and "maybe out of the country" for "a few years." Immediately, the author's chest tightened, her airways constricted, and she felt herself struggling to breathe normally. Though she managed to maintain her composure during the dinner, these physical reactions continued to surface in subsequent weeks whenever the subject of Kate's potential move arose. Logically, she understood that she wanted her daughter and son-in-law to create their own beautiful story. Yet her body and heart couldn't align with her mind—her emotional response seemed wildly disproportionate to the situation. This kind of emotional disconnect happens to all of us. We experience something impactful, react by stuffing or minimizing our feelings, and then later, something relatively minor triggers an outsized response. We unload on loved ones, catastrophize situations, or find ourselves in tears without understanding why. These revved-up reactions aren't random—they're telling a story about something deeper, something unaddressed in our hearts. Our emotions can seem mysterious, even frightening, when we don't understand them. But there's always something beneath the surface—past experiences, unprocessed pain, or unacknowledged fears that shape our current responses. Emotions that seem illogical are actually pointing to deep-seated realities that need our attention. They're not playing unfairly; they're playing predictably, connected to something very real in our past or present. And rather than being feared or suppressed, these feelings can become our guides toward healing and wholeness if we're willing to untangle them.

Chapter 2: When Feelings Become Tangled: Origins and Patterns

Long before we could walk or talk, we were being conditioned about what to do when we felt emotions. Somewhere along the way, most of us picked up messages that we didn't need to feel sad, that we shouldn't be angry, and that it was illogical to feel scared. We learned to tell ourselves that we were okay, that the situation was okay, or that everything would be okay. Instead of sharing how we felt, we were taught to calm down, quit crying, or spend time alone until we could "pull ourselves together." For the author, these patterns manifested clearly in her marriage. She grew up with a steadfast midwestern mother and a father raised in a military family—she learned to think instead of feel. Her husband Zac came from a football family where emotions were seen as something that could get in the way of performance. His unemotional focus was an asset on the field. When they married, she had recently discovered emotional expression in college, while he remained stoic. Their early days were marked by cold war-like arguments about his emotional absence. Eventually, she adapted to his style, finding life "more efficient, more sanitary, less dramatic, less mysterious...less fun." They grew distant, becoming mere roommates. Seeking help, they started marriage counseling. Over a year and a half, something remarkable happened: her emotionally absent husband "became the emotional equivalent of Niagara Falls"—showing presence, tears, and a deeper connection with both Jesus and her. They could finally argue honestly and connect at depths she hadn't thought possible. The strong foundation built during those emotionally healthy years has helped their marriage survive many subsequent rough patches. The patterns we learn about emotions don't just come from our families. Many religious communities have communicated harmful messages too: "Emotions are dangerous. Emotions are not reliable. Just push that feeling away. Don't let your feelings control you." Meanwhile, secular culture often swings to the opposite extreme: "If you don't feel in love, leave your spouse. If you feel unhappy, sacrifice anything to find happiness. If your feelings say do it, nothing else matters." Between these extremes lies a healthier truth: our emotions were designed by God, who Himself experiences the full range of feelings. They're not meant to control us, but neither are we meant to control them. There's a third way—an emotionally secure, connected, life-giving way that can set us free to love and connect more deeply than we ever thought possible. The reality is that feelings aren't meant to be fixed; feelings are meant to be felt.

Chapter 3: The Three Evasive Tactics: Control, Cope, Conceal

When overwhelming feelings arise—whether sadness, disappointment, anger, rejection, fear, or even joy—we typically have three go-to responses that help us avoid facing them directly. The author calls these the "Three Cs": Control, Cope, and Conceal. The first evasive tactic is Control. We try to take charge of our situations or other people, hoping to make everything more manageable. We believe we can outsmart our adversaries, out-plan our catastrophes, and out-think every challenge. We give ourselves pep talks: "You can do this. You really can." Sometimes this approach works temporarily—making your bed, taking a shower, and conquering the day can sometimes lift you out of a funk. But attempting to control emotions requires exhausting effort and ultimately shuts us down. Not just the difficult emotions we don't want to feel, but also our enjoyment of friendships, depth of prayer, tears that used to come during meaningful moments, and the creativity that used to inspire us. Control closes off everything. The second tactic is Cope. When emotional beatdowns hit us, we run to whatever comforts we can find. Maybe we reach for Netflix episodes, another drink, online shopping, or work—anything to drown out how we feel. While some coping mechanisms seem innocuous, the relief they bring is momentary. What begins as an occasional escape can quickly become a daily habit or even an addiction. According to a Myriad Genetics nationwide survey, about 77 percent of us have turned to "addictive behaviors or unhealthy coping mechanisms" in response to mental health challenges like depression and anxiety. The third approach is Conceal. The author shares a story about her two-year-old son Conner who once disappeared in a Dallas mall. After an hour of frantic searching, staff found him hiding between a wall and a rack of pants in Banana Republic. Despite hearing everyone calling his name, he stayed silent because he feared getting in trouble. Many of us are skilled at "hiding behind the pants"—sitting quietly with emotions tucked inside rather than risking what might happen if we face reality. But concealing emotions doesn't make them go away; it often makes circumstances more desperate and chaotic over time. These three evasive tactics—control, cope, conceal—might seem to help us manage our emotions in the moment, but they actually disconnect us from ourselves, from others, and from God. The energy required to keep our box of emotions hidden is exhausting, and inevitably, those stuffed feelings find their way out, often sideways onto the people we love. The reality is that our emotions weren't meant to be suppressed or feared—they were created to connect us to what matters most.

Chapter 4: Emotions as Connection: To God, Others and Ourselves

Imagine sitting with someone for coffee when they begin sharing what's really happening in their life, perhaps even becoming tearful. While there might be moments of awkwardness, what do you truly feel beneath the uncertainty of what to say? Most likely, you feel compassion. Affection. Perhaps even gratitude that they've shared their life with you. You feel connected to them, even if you don't know them well. This is precisely what emotions are meant to do: connect us to what is most important—and to who is most important. In Mark 5, Jesus demonstrates this perfectly in his interaction with the woman who had been bleeding for twelve years. After she touches his garment and is instantly healed, Jesus stops everything and asks who touched him. The trembling woman comes forward, and Jesus calls her "Daughter," declaring that her faith has made her well. It wasn't enough for Jesus to heal her physically; he wanted a relationship with her. He stopped amid a crowd to notice someone who had been ostracized all her life, looking her in the eyes and connecting with her through intimate language. This pattern repeats throughout scripture. When Jesus's friend Lazarus died, he encountered the grief of Lazarus's sisters. Martha expressed anger: "If you had been here, my brother would not have died." Jesus didn't shame her but comforted her with hope. When Mary fell at his feet weeping, scripture says Jesus was "deeply troubled and moved" and wept with her. Though Jesus knew he would soon raise Lazarus from the dead—though he could fix the problem both temporarily and eternally—he chose first to comfort them in their emotions rather than correct them. The author experienced this power of emotional connection during a video counseling session with "Dr. C." Overwhelmed by burnout and anxiety about returning to ministry work, she poured out her feelings. Instead of offering advice, Dr. C simply listened, asked thoughtful questions, and then said something she would never forget: "Jennie, I know you're stressed and frustrated, and I want you to know that I will never tire of hearing you say how you really feel. I'm not leaving the room." She entered the call feeling like her ministry was about to fall apart but left feeling able to breathe again—all because someone listened without trying to fix her situation. Connection through emotions can heal in ways nothing else can. The science confirms what both scripture and our experience tell us: our brains are literally rewired through safe, connected relationships where we can authentically share our feelings. The weight of our emotional burdens lifts not because circumstances change, but because we no longer feel alone in them. God created us for this very purpose—to walk with Him and with each other through the full spectrum of human emotion. Our feelings aren't obstacles to connection; they're the very pathway to the deeper relationships our hearts crave.

Chapter 5: The Five-Step Path to Emotional Untangling

In her journey toward emotional health, the author discovered a progression for engaging emotions that can transform how we experience our feelings and connect with others. Rather than rushing through this process, each stage requires its own time and attention—a practice that may feel clumsy at first but becomes more natural with repetition. The journey begins with noticing—paying attention to what we're sensing emotionally instead of brushing it aside. This sounds simple but proves challenging for many of us who've spent lifetimes practicing emotional evasion. During one evening while making dinner, the author felt an "itchy" sensation in her mind and soul amidst family chaos. Instead of pouring wine, pushing through, or yelling, she paused to ask herself: "How am I feeling?" The simple answer "Not okay" was her starting point. Even this minimal awareness—discerning between "Okay" and "Not Okay"—represents significant progress away from our conditioned "Fine, fine, totally fine!" responses. The next step is naming our emotions. Just as naming animals in Genesis implied authority over them, naming our emotions helps us "tame" them—not to control them, but to work with them instead of against them. The author admits that "How does that make you feel?" was her least favorite question from her counselor because she genuinely didn't know the answer. Many of us lack emotional vocabulary or have misunderstood what constitutes an emotion. Learning to distinguish between joy, anger, sadness, and fear—the "Big Four" emotions—and their more specific variations brings greater clarity to our inner landscape. After noticing and naming comes the crucial step of feeling our emotions. This means giving ourselves permission to experience them fully without judgment or resistance. For those who've spent years evading emotions, this stage requires persistence—staying with uncomfortable feelings instead of fighting against them. Research shows that "the healthy expression of emotion is itself stress-reducing"—meaning that if we would express our authentic emotions instead of looking for escape routes, we could potentially bypass stress responses altogether. The fourth step involves sharing our feelings with others—not everyone, but someone. This proves particularly challenging for those taught never to burden others with problems. Yet scripture commands us to "bear one another's burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ." When the author vulnerably shared her feelings of being overwhelmed in ministry with her small group, asking them specifically how they felt rather than what they thought, their empathetic responses brought tears to her eyes. She felt understood, comforted, seen, soothed, and safe—experiencing firsthand how sharing puts us on a path toward healing. The final step is choosing what to do with our emotions. Even after noticing, naming, feeling, and sharing, we reach a point where action may be needed. Sometimes we simply need to let our emotions draw us closer to God and others. Sometimes we need professional help, lifestyle changes, or specific healing practices. The choice isn't about controlling emotions but about letting them serve their purpose: connecting us to what matters most. This five-step progression—notice, name, feel, share, choose—creates a path toward emotional freedom that anyone can follow, regardless of where they start. The process isn't about perfection but progress, leading gradually toward the wholehearted, connected life we were created to experience.

Chapter 6: Creating Space for Healing: Noticing and Naming

The author's counselor constantly asked a dreaded question: "How does that make you feel?" She hated it because she honestly didn't know the answer. Years of controlling, coping with, and concealing emotions had disconnected her from her own feelings. Like a kindergartner learning to identify emotions on a feelings chart, she had to relearn how to notice and name what was happening inside her. This relearning process begins with creating space—pausing long enough to acknowledge what we're experiencing. When the author felt anxiety rising during a routine errand, she stopped to assess what might be happening. Though nothing significant seemed wrong that day, she recognized it was part of a season of intense stress involving her husband's emotional struggles and financial uncertainty. Her body was signaling what her mind hadn't yet processed. Without this awareness, she might have walked into her already-stressed home and snapped at her family, creating a cascade of negative interactions. Emotions are meant to be healed in community, but we can't share what we haven't first noticed ourselves. Research confirms that emotional suppression affects health in profound ways. According to a study by the Harvard School of Public Health and the University of Rochester, "People who bottled up their emotions increased their chance of premature death from all causes by more than 30%, with their risk of being diagnosed with cancer increasing by 70%." Our bodies literally communicate the cost of unacknowledged feelings. Naming our emotions takes this awareness further, giving us authority over our feelings not to control them but to work with them. The author describes emotional granularity—the ability to describe emotional states using nuanced words rather than generic ones. Research shows a direct connection between emotional granularity and mental, physical, and relational health. "The more specifically you are able to describe what is going on inside you, the more flexible you will become in the face of that emotion. Growing in specificity has even been linked with fewer doctor appointments and medications and better social and emotional functioning." The author's friend Caroline demonstrated this process in action when overwhelmed by childcare responsibilities. Rather than pretending everything was fine, she noticed her feelings, named them as panic related to things beyond her control, and reached out for help. "Noticing it, naming it, feeling it, and calling for help in the midst of it...worked!" Caroline reported afterward. Our emotions reveal truths about ourselves that logic alone cannot uncover. When we make space to notice and name them, we open doors to healing connections with ourselves, others, and God. Rather than being an inconvenient interruption to productivity, this practice becomes the pathway to a more authentic, wholehearted existence. As the author's eighteen-year-old daughter shared from her own experience: "Those tears helped me process and grow in the hard."

Chapter 7: Sharing Our Feelings: The Courage to Connect

In a strategic meeting for a new book project, one participant had recently suffered severe losses due to personal mistakes. When she vulnerably shared her situation during introductions, team member Chloe responded, "Wow, I just want to say that I'm so glad you decided to come." The author asked Chloe to express how she felt about the woman's presence. With tears in her eyes, Chloe looked directly at her and said, "I feel proud for you that you chose to come, that you chose to share all that with us." That one emotionally honest statement transformed the entire meeting's atmosphere, releasing the struggling participant to serve fully. Learning to express emotions to others feels awkward at first, like trying a new sport or visiting an unfamiliar country. The author suggests starting with simple "I feel" statements: "I feel happy." "I feel overwhelmed." "I feel grateful." "I feel concerned." This practice moves us from the analytical left side of our brain to the relational right side—the place of connection, empathy, healing, and closeness with God and others. When we respond to others with "I feel" rather than "I think" statements, we create safe spaces for authentic sharing. The author experienced this transformation with her small group. When she unloaded her struggles during a difficult season, her typically solution-oriented friends initially responded with "I think" statements that felt judgmental. When her counselor redirected them to share feelings instead, the shift was remarkable. One friend said, "I feel sad that you feel misunderstood by us," and the tension immediately dissipated. The author felt seen, soothed, and safe again—moving from feeling angry and misunderstood to feeling profoundly close to the very people who had hurt her moments before. This pattern of connection through shared emotion appears throughout scripture. When Jesus's friend Lazarus died, he didn't simply fix the problem (though he could have). Instead, he wept with Mary who was grieving, modeling what it means to "rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn." Even knowing he would raise Lazarus, Jesus chose first to connect emotionally with those suffering. The author witnessed this healing power when her teenage son Cooper was upset about being excluded from a gathering with friends. When he expressed, "Mom, I feel sad," she responded with, "Of course you are. That hurts. I feel so sad with you." Rather than immediately trying to fix the situation, she created space for them to share the emotion together. Eventually, she gently helped him recall past similar experiences: "How has it turned out in the past when you have been left out?" His eyes brightened as he realized, "I have been left out before. It was okay. I was okay." Then he added, "Plus, I always have y'all." This is how resilience grows—not by avoiding difficult emotions, but by noticing, naming, feeling, and sharing them within relationships where we feel seen, soothed, and safe. As the apostle Paul wrote, difficult experiences produce perseverance, character, and ultimately hope—"because the love of God has been poured out in our hearts." When we share our emotions authentically, we create pathways for deeper connection that transform not just our feelings but our very capacity to love and be loved.

Summary

Throughout our exploration of emotional untangling, we've discovered that emotions aren't obstacles to overcome but guides designed to connect us—to ourselves, to others, and to God. The five-step path we've traced—noticing, naming, feeling, sharing, and choosing—offers a practical framework for transforming our relationship with feelings we've long avoided or misunderstood. This journey isn't about controlling emotions or being controlled by them, but about engaging them with wisdom and courage. The gifts of emotional health are profound and life-changing. We rediscover hope when despair threatens to overwhelm us. We grow in grace toward ourselves and others, recognizing that "these things happen" in our messy, imperfect lives. We deepen our connection with God, bringing our raw feelings to Him rather than trying to make sense of them alone. We learn to control what we can while surrendering what we can't. Perhaps most importantly, we begin creating again—finding energy and inspiration that was previously consumed by emotional evasion. As the author discovered, "Living with tangled-up emotions is not really living at all." The journey toward emotional freedom isn't always comfortable, but it leads to a wholehearted life that's infinitely richer than one constrained by fear of our own feelings. Our emotions can lead us to greater compassion, deeper connection, and the abundant life we were created to experience—if we have the courage to feel them fully and share them authentically.

About Author

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Jennie Allen

Jennie Allen is a passionate leader and visionary following God's call to inspire women to encounter the invisible God. With a Master's in Biblical Studies from DTS, Jennie is the author of two Bible studies, Stuck, a CBA best-seller, and Chase, and the ECPA "New Author of the Year" winner of Anything and Restless, which also includes a DVD-based study. The founder of IF: Gathering, Jennie, and her husband Zac, have four children.

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