A Love Letter to Emotional Complexity

Dear Emotional Complexity,

I’ve spent a lot of time studying you. Rifling through my brain for signs of you. Noticing you in every memory, thought or imagined future. I become more fascinated every day, by the way that you are able to hold multiple, conflicting emotions at once. I can see how, in the past, you were often a source of great mental anguish for me. How I struggled to understand you, and tore myself apart trying to make sense of you. And yet, somewhere along the way, my perspective shifted without even realising it. I don’t see you as something to be fixed anymore. I see you as a kind of superpower. Something to be admired, not fought.

There is beauty in the way that you show up. In feeling grateful while still wanting something more. In being excited and scared in the same breath. In those moments when life feels heavy but somehow still full of wonder. You remind me that the human experience doesn’t come in clean, singular emotional responses. It comes in layers.

From an early age, we seem to learn to be suspicious of you. We grow up with the assumption that emotional conflict means something has gone wrong, as if “healthy” emotions should arrive neat and uncomplicated, as if clarity is the ideal state of the mind. It’s a comforting idea, but it doesn’t reflect reality. Our emotional lives are layered because we are layered. We don’t operate on a linear system. We remember, imagine, empathise, project, revisit. All of these mental processes overlap, so our feelings inevitably overlap too.

If anything, your presence is a sign that our minds are doing exactly what they were built to do. You are not evidence of dysfunction. You are evidence of depth. You are the architecture of human intelligence.

Most creatures seem to operate almost entirely on instinct. It is fast, simple and effective for survival. We feel instinct too, but we also feel everything that comes after it: guilt, compassion, context, memory, hope, anticipation, moral tension, fear of consequences, the desire for connection. These layers create friction, and sometimes distress, but they also create meaning. They are the reason we can empathise, imagine futures, choose long-term fulfilment over immediate reward, love people who frustrate us, grieve someone and still laugh on the same afternoon. They are the reason we are human at all.

And yet, we so often resist you.

We treat you like a weakness rather than a strength. Holding two emotional truths at once takes effort, honesty and energy. It can feel overwhelming; like being pulled in opposite directions with no clear resolution. No one really teaches us how to sit with that. We assume resistance is the only response, never pausing to consider that there might be another way of relating to what’s happening inside of us.

For a long time I thought the distress came from you. Now I think the distress came from believing you shouldn’t exist. When opposing feelings arrived, I rushed to tidy them up. I tried to choose one. I judged myself for the emotional mess. And all of that pressure just made it harder for me to step back and see you for what you really are.

With time, I have learned a different approach. I stopped trying to solve you immediately, and started recognising you instead. Just paying attention changes everything. “I don’t know what to feel” slowly turns into “of course this feels messy, it’s supposed to.” When I stopped demanding a single emotional truth, my mind relaxed. I began to make room for the full picture rather than forcing myself to simplify something that was never meant to be simple.

Eventually this ability to observe the inner tensions, rather than resisting them, became almost second nature. I stopped interpreting every clash of emotion as a problem to be solved. I even started seeing patterns forming in you: why certain feelings rise together, why this is often a good thing, why they push against each other and what triggers them in the first place. Understanding the structure of my emotions meant I didn’t have to escape from them anymore. I could sit with them, explore them, and learn from them.

Not only do you allow me to feel these layers of emotion, but you also allow me to separate myself. To look down at them and observe my own mind. To be my own companion and coach myself through the trials and tribulations of life. You are the exact thing that allows me to find peace with the tensions that you create. Talk about complex.

There is something quietly grounding about our relationship now. Two emotions can steady each other.

Uncertainty brings humility whilst confidence keeps me moving forward.

Joy gives my sadness breathing room; sadness makes my joy feel richer.

Fear sharpens awareness; curiosity keeps me open.

Mixed emotions don’t signal instability to me anymore. They tell me my mind is awake to the complexity of my life.

This is where my admiration really lives. You expand us. You deepen our understanding of both the world and each other. Without you, we would be narrower people. Empathy wouldn’t exist, because empathy requires holding one’s own perspective alongside someone else’s. Art wouldn’t exist, because creativity is born from emotional tension and complexity. Growth wouldn’t exist, because growth happens exactly where ‘who we are’ meets ‘who we want to become’.

These days our relationship is gentler. I don’t rush to interpret you or try to pick sides. I give you space. Some moments resolve quickly, others take time, some change shape entirely. None of that threatens me anymore. It just feels human.

I’ll let you in a little secret: I no longer want a life that is simply manageable. I want one that is extraordinary. And I’ve come to realise that I cannot have that without you, because you are what gives life its texture and richness. You are why love feels profound, why loss hurts deeply, why joy feels sacred, why connection feels electric, why compassion exists at all.

Life expands when we stop demanding emotional simplicity from ourselves. Two things can be true at once. Often they are. And when we learn to hold those truths without fear, our inner world becomes easier to navigate and far more interesting to live in.

With deep appreciation,

Jade