When Two Opposing Feelings Are Both True

By Sharleen Young | Your Life Story Coach

Estimated read time: 7 minute read

Being able to feel two opposing feelings at once.

When Two Opposing Feelings Are Both True

For years, I heard people talk about being able to hold two opposing feelings at the same time. It always sounded wise and, at the same time, a little cliché—which is funny when I think about it: two things at once! I understood the idea intellectually, and I wanted to be able to really experience it. Somewhere inside me, I still believed I had to choose. Was I happy or sad? Did I miss someone, or was I relieved they were no longer around? Did I love someone, or did I dislike certain things about them? It seemed as though one feeling had to be more honest than the other.

Then I experienced it for myself.

I made a decision that was going to be better for someone else, and I was genuinely happy for them. At the same time, I was sad for myself because the decision meant giving up something I wanted. Normally, I might have tried to convince myself that I wasn’t allowed to feel sad because I had made the choice willingly. I might have told myself to focus on the positive, be generous, or stop making the situation about me. And, because I tend to feel guilty about almost everything, I probably would have felt guilty for having the sadness at all.

But this time, something different happened. I didn’t try to talk myself out of either feeling. I allowed myself to be happy for someone else and sad for myself at exactly the same time. I didn’t make excuses, rationalize one feeling away, or try to decide which one was more acceptable. I simply listened to myself, and when I said both feelings out loud, it sounded so sweet, kind, vulnerable and real.

It was as though there was suddenly enough space inside me to hold both feelings because they were both true. I knew that refusing to allow one of them would only create more stress—something else I would have to fight against, an unnecessary tightness that I didn’t need or want. I would be making the situation more complicated by trying to force myself to feel something different from what I actually felt. More importantly, it wouldn’t have been honest.

I don’t want to create that kind of useless stress for myself anymore. I don’t want to waste energy arguing with what I feel, trying to turn it into something more reasonable, generous or acceptable. I really want to know how I feel about the situations in my life because that is how I can be real with myself. It is also how I can feel calm, stay in flow, make decisions that are aligned with what I know to be true, and allow my actions to follow.

When I said both feelings out loud, I honestly felt as though I were floating. Everything became clear. I owned what I felt, and I stood in my power—not in a forceful or defensive way, but in a way that felt calm, honest and completely aligned with myself. I wasn’t apologizing, explaining or asking for permission. I didn’t need to make either feeling wrong in order for the other one to be true.

That realization began to show me how many different places in our lives this can apply. I can miss a loved one who has mental health challenges and also feel more peaceful because we are not seeing each other right now. The peace does not mean that I don’t love or miss that person, just as missing them does not mean that the distance isn’t healthier for me. I can love my husband and not always love certain things about him—and I’m sure he could say the same about me. I can be excited about what is ahead and grieve what I am leaving behind. I can be happy for another person and disappointed for myself.

One feeling doesn’t erase the other. Relief doesn’t mean there was no love. Sadness doesn’t mean a decision was wrong. Loving someone doesn’t require loving everything about them, and feeling happy for somebody else doesn’t mean that my own disappointment no longer matters.

What surprised me most was that accepting two opposing feelings didn’t make me more confused. It did the opposite. It made my decision, my actions and the way I understood the situation feel stronger, whether it involved something I could control or something I couldn’t. Because I had already been honest with myself, I wasn’t fighting an internal battle at the same time that I was trying to decide what to do next.

When I needed to explain myself to someone else, I was clear. I wasn’t overwhelmed by my emotions or reacting defensively, and I didn’t feel the need to overexplain or defend myself. I knew what I felt, I knew where I stood, and I could speak from that place. Allowing for emotional complexity had actually given me greater clarity.

I think this is something we can practise. When a situation feels complicated, we can pause and ask ourselves, What else is also true? We can try saying both truths out loud without softening them, justifying them or allowing one to cancel out the other. Then we can notice how it feels in our bodies. Is there less tightness? More room? Do we feel calmer and clearer? Does acknowledging the whole truth strengthen what we already know about a decision or how we want to respond?

This isn’t about searching for an opposing feeling that isn’t there. It is about making room for everything that is genuinely true and building the muscle to listen to ourselves without immediately judging what we hear.

For a long time, holding two opposing feelings sounded like a lovely idea. Now I understand why people talk about it. It felt freeing, alive, and fair. It felt like kindness toward myself, and it allowed me to stop fighting something that didn’t need to be fought.

Sometimes the clearest answer isn’t choosing one feeling over another. Sometimes it is having the courage to say, This is true—and this is also true.

And then noticing what becomes possible when we allow ourselves to hold both.