Over and over and over they tell the stories of their pain and their joy, hoping for some magic bullet… Looking for confirmation of the ‘reasonable-ness’ of their strong emotions – rage or frustration or betrayal – or for validation of their reaction to a situation, or perhaps for just that one response that soothes their excitable nervous system.
Oversharing can look like sharing too much of oneself, or sharing the same stories repeatedly.
Sometimes when people are oversharers, they can be incredibly self-absorbed and exhausting. But other times, they’re engaging and charismatic storytellers… after all, when you share and re-share conversation constantly, what you’re really doing is practicing and polishing your storytelling skills.
Why might we overshare?
Strong emotions can feel difficult in the body. Pain, grief, anger and even joy can stir within us intense physical feelings that are hard to hold.
Feeling is an important part of being human.
Our experiences are not always measured or safe. Our lives are composed of complex and messy moments. We are constantly reaching for understanding, trying to make sense of our chaos. In the meantime, we are plagued with challenging physical sensations that we may not welcome: heat in our solar plexus, pressure in our head, tension in our muscles. Even the wild squirming of energy of intense joy or excitement in our belly can leave us wrought with discomfort.
What to do with these feelings, then, when we experience them as unwanted physical bombardments?
Notice.
Be.
Feel.
But those things require patience and practice. And patience is a virtue many of us haven’t prioritized in the ‘list of things I’m gonna cultivate in 2024’.
So instead, some of us talk.
We do our best to ignore the physical responses that may not feel good or make sense into the realm of our consciousness, and play them over and over thought and speech.
Get it out of me, quick.
Again.
Again.
Tell me it’s ok.
Tell me I’m ok.
How does oversharing affect us?
Talking about something important to us dilutes our experience.
Sharing with a counselor or a trusted mentor can be beneficial. In this kind of setting, there’s a beginning and an end to the space for our sharing. This helps us contain the chaos that lives inside us.
More often, though, we may find ourselves discharging this destabilizing energy by sharing it with friends, colleagues and family members. The people closest to us are those most likely to receive it.
A problem shared is a problem halved.
But is it?
Perhaps a problem shared is simply a problem not fully faced by we, the haver-of-the-problem. Perhaps sharing the known aspects of a problem that we have yet to fully understand only serves to distance us from sitting quietly with the deeper truth of what may come.
Creating the conditions for receiving the validation we crave allows us to not have to sit with ourselves. And being sure that we know the truth of a thing is the surest way to prevent us from ever seeing what is actually true for us personally. And what is that, anyway?
There’s a better way.
Slow down.
Breathe.
Notice.
Feel.
Name the sensations.
Get curious.
What happens if, just for a while, I hold this discomfort in my body and don’t share it with anyone? What happens if I let myself bathe in it, roll around in it, lather it all over me? What happens if I talk to it, let it move, ask to hear its wisdom?
The mind plays tricks. It hides the truth when the truth is unpleasant. It opens doors to thoughts that make us comfortable and closes doors on things we don’t wish to see. The mind is full of projections, righteousness and victimhood – clever traps we have learned to use to keep us safe from the unbearable shame of our dark parts.
The body is the surest thing we have. A magical barometer.
Taking time to dwell in our own skin when we’d rather blurt out our troubles or joys to the world teaches us to feel more deeply. Practising this art can be incredibly uncomfortable at first. Over time, we develop resilience and deeper levels of safety in our bodies as we practice feeling things we don’t enjoy. We become more attuned to subtle sensations. We start to notice when our bodies are telling us something is not ok right now rather than when a full-blown anxiety attack is upon us.
Through careful listening to our physical body’s responses to the chaos around us, we can deepen our connection to what is real. The truth of what is can be found more gently and lovingly.
No one else is listening. No one else is judging. No one else is weighing in.
It’s just me and my body, humming with pain, sadness, fear, love. A private sanctuary for transformation of my chaos into something that makes sense to me. Holding my feelings gently inside myself, I use them as fuel to move what is stuck. My body is a crucible where alchemy takes place.
Turning my sh*t into truth.
When I take full responsibility for whatever difficult part lives inside me and allow it space to breathe, wisdom reveals itself. The wisdom of me.
You have it, too, and you were born to feel it.