Skip to main content

Am I emotional miser?


Am I an Emotional Miser?

— A Soft Confession From a Girl Who Feels Too Much But Shows Too Little

They say I'm kind. That I listen well. That my silence comforts them.

But no one ever says, “She opens up.”

And maybe that’s because I don’t.


Sometimes I wonder — am I just reserved? Or am I… an emotional miser?


You know how misers hoard money, counting coins in secret and never letting a single one slip through their fingers? That’s how I am with emotions. I feel deeply — my heart is a vast sea of unspoken waves — but when it comes to expressing them, I lock them in. I ration them. I smile when I should cry. I say "I'm fine" when I’m falling apart inside.


I don’t do it to be mysterious or cold. I do it because… I don’t know how not to.


When someone says, “Talk to me,” I freeze. My mind swirls with everything I want to say, but my lips betray me. Because vulnerability doesn’t come easy when your heart has learned the hard way that not everyone deserves to see its softest parts.


Maybe it started with the times I opened up and no one stayed.

Maybe it’s because I was always the “strong one.”

Maybe it’s because I fear being seen too clearly — raw, messy, real.


But lately, I’ve been asking myself — is this protection or is it prison?


Because even when people love me, they say they feel distant from me. And it breaks my heart to realize that in trying so hard to guard my emotions, I may be withholding them. Not because I don’t feel — but because I feel too much to risk the wrong person touching it carelessly.


So, yes.


Maybe I am an emotional miser.


But here’s the twist — I’m learning.


Learning that expressing emotions doesn’t make me weak.


That I don’t have to break down to be real.


That even a whisper of truth can be brave.


I’m learning to spend my emotions like love letters — slowly, intentionally, meaningfully. Not for everyone. But for those who’ve earned a seat close to my heart.


And if you, too, have ever felt like an emotional miser — maybe it’s not because you’re broken. Maybe it’s just because you’re soft in a world that taught you to be hard. And maybe… just maybe… you’re healing now.


Not by giving everything away.


But by finally learning what to share, and with whom.


" A girl who feels deeply, quietly, and is learning to open up"



Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Battaling The Brain Fog

 Battling the Brain Fog: Why Focus Feels Like a Myth (and How to Fight Back) I’m going to be real with you: I’m writing this while fighting the urge to check my email, see if I got any new Instagram notifications, and randomly google "how many spoons of sugar are in a Big Mac." If you’ve ever felt like your brain is a chaotic, understaffed office, where every brilliant thought is immediately drowned out by the noise of a thousand tiny, irrelevant distractions, then welcome to the club. Staying focused right now feels less like a skill and more like a superpower only attainable by Tibetan monks and people who don’t have smartphones. It's too difficult to stay focused. That’s the honest-to-goodness truth of modern life, and trust me, you are not failing. You’re human. The Real Enemy Isn't Laziness—It's Overload It’s easy to beat ourselves up. We read articles from "gurus" telling us to "just try harder" or "find your grit." But that adv...

Dear Future Me: A Heartfelt Letter of Hope, Growth & Courage -

 Dear Future Me: A Heartfelt Letter of Hope, Growth & Courage  - ✍️ Blog Post There’s something magical about writing a letter to your future self. It’s not just words on a page — it’s a conversation across time, a reminder of how far you’ve come and where you dream to go. Today, I sit down with a quiet heart, thinking about you — my future self. The version of me who has seen more seasons, faced more storms, and hopefully bloomed into someone stronger, wiser, and kinder. --- 🌱 To the Future Me, Who Has Grown Through It All I hope you’re smiling as you read this. I hope your eyes hold the kind of peace I am still searching for. Right now, life feels uncertain — there are fears I don’t yet know how to face, dreams that feel too far to reach. But I am trying. Every day, I wake up and push through my doubts. I am learning to trust myself, to love myself even on the messy days. I hope you are proud of me for that. I hope you have forgiven yourself for all the times you stumbl...

I'm Struggling — And You Are The Proof

I'm Struggling — And You Are The Proof | A Personal Note on Strength and Evidence Introduction Some marks are visible. Some are invisible. Today I want to leave one that is both: a small, honest witness to a time when I chose struggle over silence — not out of shame, but out of determination. I want to leave a nishaani (निशानी) — a sign — showing that I fought to find myself, that every bruise and late night is proof I kept moving. I will not regret the struggle; I will own it, learn from it, and let it be a map for the future.  " Main ek nishaani chhodna chahti hoon — ki main khud ko pane ke liye struggle kar rahi thi." (I want to leave a mark — that I was struggling to find myself.) --- What I Mean by “You Are The Proof” When I say “you are the proof,” I mean the evidence I leave behind — the changed habits, the choices, the small creations, the words I speak aloud, the tasks I finish even when tired. Proof isn't always dramatic. It’s a saved draft that became a pub...