- The Practical Newsletter
- Posts
- Don't Be Surprised We Care
We Might Look Like Robots
‘I'm surprised you care,’ is something people told Holly more than once.
She always found this confusing and hurtful. Why would she be there and help, if she didn't care?
Only later did she realise these people were referring to a lack of emotional expression. They mistook it as a sign of not caring about them. Unfortunately for Holly, practical help isn't everyone’s love language.
When I was younger, people called me ‘robot,’ ‘computer,’ and even ‘calculated.’
Of course, they were saying this half-jokingly. But it was also half-serious—and it always fully stung.
On average, the tribe sees us accurately. They recognised the roles we play, what we're good at, and not so good at. They know we're thinkers and problem-solvers.
Expressing and dealing with emotions isn't our strong suit. It can be awkward and difficult. This part is true.
But sometimes they make the grave mistake to assume we don't have feelings at all. At least, they treat us that way, which makes our natural struggles even harder.
It took us some time to figure out how to connect. But in the end, we managed to dig deep and do it.
Let me tell you how we did it and what our emotional experience actually looks like.
Preferring the Calm
Most of the time, Holly and I feel mildly positive and calm, simply good. But not overly ecstatic.
We don't experience a lot of big emotional spikes in either direction. No crazy joy and no morose bouts of sadness. That's how we like it.
We obviously don't want to feel sad or angry. But neither do we strive to be super amped up and excited. We know that every high high is followed by a low low—and we'd rather not swing.
Instead of emotional highs, we aim for feeling engaged in what we're doing.
To us, there's nothing more engaging than a loving relationship. Making memories together, and having meaningful conversation about the things we care about, are some of the most engaging things we can think of.
It's what makes us happy. Even if it looks weirdly subdued or boring from an outside perspective.
The other most engaging activity for us is work. No surprise there.
I wouldn't say we like to be busy, but we love being productive. When I manage to spend 3 to 4 hours in a day focused on work that feels meaningful to me, in particular writing, I feel a deep sense of satisfaction.
I don't do this because I think I should for some random reason. I do this because the experience itself feels enjoyable.
For Holly, it's no different.
This is our average day: feeling mildly positive while being engaged in work and our relationship.
But sometimes there are nasty disruptions.
Dealing with Spikes
While our calm baseline states look similar, our emotional spikes are different.
My emotions are extroverted, and it shows. Generally, my state fluctuates more than Holly's. I spike in either direction every couple of weeks.
I might feel elated, exited, angry, sad, or mildly depressed. The rollercoaster usually goes up first, before it crashes down again.
My state doesn't change often, but it can change rapidly.
I'm more emotionally expressive than Holly, too. I smile broadly, have a full-body laugh, and I can be quite dramatic (or so I'm told). In a bad state, I'd like to talk out my feelings right then and there—quick and dirty.
These heightened states don’t feel fully real. I know they’re transient. I might get lost in feeling giddy or morose for a moment, but I'm mostly able to observe the feelings from a centred perspective. There's no deep desire to cling to such states—not even the positive ones.
In contrast to me, Holly is less emotionally expressive.
Of course, this doesn't mean she doesn't feel or care. Her emotions simply don't show as much on her face. Expressing her feelings feels incredibly vulnerable to Holly. She only does it with the people closest to her.
She can also swing from feeling giddy and excited to low and unmotivated. But instead of actively showing the bad state, or even tantruming, she retracts and sometimes sulks.
Holly has the unfortunate tendency to ignore painful emotions and suppress them. Only over time, has she learned to recognise them as warning signals pointing to unmet needs.
My extroverted quick and dirty way of processing emotions doesn't work for her. Before she can talk about the problem, she needs time alone to figure out what's wrong, which is often far from obvious to her.
We've learned to respect each other's needs in the years since we've been together.
Being out of touch with your feelings can give you low emotional intelligence. If you are disconnected from your own emotions, it's difficult to be compassionate.
Because she had been unable to hold space and mirror other people's emotional states, they felt like Holly didn't care, while this couldn't have been farther from the truth.
Making a Connection
What I described above are our default tendencies. However, we're not sentenced to repeat those patterns ad infinitum. We can cultivate our weaker areas with determination and patience.
In fact, when we met, we mainly connected on values right from the start.
We were both dedicated to our own personal growth, and we were looking for a partner who'd support us on that path.
While we think differently, we individually ended up with similar goals for our lives. We wanted to live in the same way when it came to a family life, friends, work, but also topics like religion and finances.
We quickly realised we value the same things.
But we needed to come to a place where we knew what we individually valued and how to communicate that. We both don’t think we would’ve been able to make the relationship work in our mid-twenties. We weren’t self-aware or settled enough yet.
Also, talking to each other felt simply easy and interesting and good. We resonated, in our own calm, subdued way. We made and make each other laugh a lot, too.
Overall, it just felt right—and much better than anything else we had experienced in the past.
The Objective Personality System helped us recognise our emotional differences. We respected them right from the beginning. Neither of us thinks our way to handle emotions is better. Neither of us forces their way onto the other.
Both Holly and I wanted to give the other what they needed—which might be an emotional exchange, or time to retract.
Do we always do that perfectly?—No, we don't. But with patience and compassion, we reassess and adapt, because we want to support each other’s happiness, in the way works best for us—and not for anyone else.
If you want to connect to anyone, platonically or romantically, emotions and values are key.
Theodore Roosevelt said, ‘People don't care how much you know until they know how much you care.’ In my experience, this is more than true, even if it’s scary news for the thinkers out there.
No matter how out of touch with your emotions you are, knowing your values and expressing them is an art that can be practised and a skill that can be cultivated.
It might take you a few years, but I know you can get there.