the cost of suppression & how silence separates us from ourselves

There was a time when I thought holding it all together made me strong.

I believed that if I could just keep smiling, keep showing up, keep ticking the boxes, if I could just keep going, then no one would see the storm underneath. I was the girl who could handle it. The one who didn’t cry or crumble and the girl who kept going no matter how heavy it felt. I wore my resilience like armour. I convinced myself that if I didn’t speak the truth of what I felt, if I kept it buried deep, it would eventually disappear. But it didn’t disappear.

Of course it didn't. Instead, it sat inside me. Breeding exhaustion. Turning into pain. Weaving itself into the way I saw myself, the way I let people treat me, the way I moved through the world and every big or little decision I made. What I didn’t express, my body held. What I didn’t allow myself to feel, my mind replayed. What I didn’t face, my soul continued to carry.

Because that’s the thing about suppression. It doesn’t stay hidden. It just finds another way to speak.

Sometimes it shows up as chronic pain. Sometimes as anxiety that won’t go away. Sometimes as burnout, resentment, disconnected relationships, or a deep ache in your chest that you can’t quite name. Or for me... all of the above. The longer we suppress what’s true, the more our body, our relationships, our work, and our soul begin to feel the weight of it.

It’s not that we choose suppression because we’re weak. We choose it because at some point, it felt safer than feeling. It felt easier to shut down than to fall apart. We learned to hold it in. To swallow our words. To smile through the tears. To avoid conflict. To prioritise peace on the outside while chaos lived within.

But there’s a cost. The cost is our health. Our sense of self. Our peace. Our connection with others. Our ability to feel alive in our own skin.

Because when you suppress anger, it doesn’t vanish, it festers. When you avoid grief, it doesn’t dissolve, it stores itself in your bones. When you silence your truth, it doesn’t disappear, it just gets louder in other ways. And eventually, what you suppress begins to suppress you.

Your voice. Your energy. Your joy. Your sense of aliveness.

I’ve seen this in my own life and in the lives of so many I’ve supported. The person who’s always tired no matter how much they rest. The woman who can’t speak her needs without tears. The man who feels numb and disconnected but doesn’t know why. The business owner who keeps sabotaging their success. The parent who loves their children deeply but feels like they’re losing themselves in the process.

Underneath it all, there is so often a mountain of suppressed emotion.

Unfelt sadness. Unspoken boundaries. Unmet needs. Unacknowledged trauma. Decades of pretending it’s fine.

But please know, that none of this is your fault.

You did what you had to do to survive. You coped in the ways that were available to you. You followed what the world rewarded. Silence, strength, productivity, people-pleasing. But now, you get to choose differently. You get to let healing become the priority. Not perfection. Not pretending. Not pushing through. But real, grounded, soul-deep healing.

And that healing begins with giving yourself permission to feel again. To speak the truth that’s been stuck in your throat. To meet the emotions you were never taught how to hold. To stop performing a version of yourself that’s always okay.

You don’t have to unpack it all at once. You don’t need to force yourself to cry or relive every painful memory. You just need to start creating space for what’s real.

Just a single moment to notice what your body is holding. A journal entry that lets your anger out. A deep breath that welcomes grief instead of avoiding it. A safe space where you don’t have to pretend anymore.

This is what I’ve come to believe, suppression is not strength. Suppression is survival.

But true strength? That lives in your willingness to face yourself with compassion. To sit in the discomfort instead of bypassing it. To choose presence over performance. To gently unravel the parts of you that learned to hide.

Because when you do, everything begins to shift.

Your health starts to respond. Your relationships deepen. Your nervous system begins to regulate. Your intuition gets louder. You start making decisions that actually feel good. You stop abandoning yourself to keep the peace. You begin to soften into the truth of who you are, without shame.

And maybe, for the first time in a long time, you feel free. Free from the pressure to hold it all in. Free from the stories that said you had to be strong, silent, or self-sacrificing. Free from the weight of everything you never got to say.

That’s the gift of healing. Not that you never struggle again, but that you know how to meet yourself in the struggle. That you trust your body, your truth and your emotions, even the messy ones. And that you stop fearing your own depth.

Suppression comes at a cost, but healing brings you home. Home to the voice that never stopped speaking. Home to the parts of you that were never broken, just buried. Home to the kind of peace that doesn’t require pretending. Home to the wholeness that was always waiting beneath the surface.

Let that be your new truth. You were never meant to carry it all alone. You were never meant to silence what was real. And it’s never too late to let it out, let it go, and let yourself be seen.

With love & support,

Shorina | Mindful Soul Collective

Holistic Counsellor, Wellbeing Coach & Business Mentor

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