"Tell me how you feel." It’s a phrase that can either save a marriage or make someone want to jump out of a moving vehicle. Honestly, we hear it everywhere—from therapist offices to pop songs to those awkward late-night talks on the kitchen floor. But why is it so hard to actually do? Most of us are walking around with a giant soup of physiological sensations and half-formed thoughts, yet when someone asks us to describe it, we just say "I'm fine" or "I'm stressed."
That’s a problem. A big one.
The reality is that tell me how you feel isn't just a polite request; it's a fundamental requirement for a functioning nervous system. Research from psychologists like Dr. Lisa Feldman Barrett, author of How Emotions Are Made, suggests that our brains are basically prediction machines. If we can't label what we're feeling with some level of "emotional granularity," our brain stays in a state of high-alert confusion. It’s like trying to fix a car engine when you don’t even know what a wrench is. You’re just hitting things and hoping for the best.
Why We Suck at Explaining Our Emotions
Most of us were never taught a vocabulary for our internal world. We got the basics: happy, sad, mad, scared. That’s about it. It’s like trying to paint a masterpiece using only three primary colors. You can do it, sure, but it’s going to look flat. When you can’t get specific, your stress response stays high.
There’s this fascinating concept called affect labeling. UCLA psychologist Matthew Lieberman conducted brain imaging studies that showed something wild. When people put a name to an emotion—specifically a negative one—the activity in their amygdala (the brain's "alarm" center) actually decreased. Simultaneously, the prefrontal cortex—the logical, "thinking" part of the brain—lightened up. Essentially, by simply naming the feeling, you're literally calming your brain down. You’re moving from "I am being chased by a bear" to "I am feeling a sense of overwhelming anxiety regarding my project deadline." One of those is a crisis; the other is a manageable problem.
But it’s scary. Vulnerability feels like a weakness in a culture that prizes "grinding" and "resilience." We think that if we open the lid, the pot will boil over. Usually, the opposite is true. The steam only builds up because the lid is on too tight.
The Physicality of the "Tell Me How You Feel" Prompt
Emotions aren't just thoughts. They are physical events. You’ve felt it—the fluttering in your stomach before a big presentation, the tightness in your chest when you’re hurt, the heat in your face when you're embarrassed. This is interoception. It’s your brain’s way of interpreting what’s happening inside your body.
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If I tell you to tell me how you feel, and you’re disconnected from your body, you’re going to give me a logic-based answer. "I feel like you're being unfair." See what happened there? That’s not a feeling; that’s an accusation disguised as a feeling. A real feeling would be: "I feel lonely and ignored."
The Difference Between Thoughts and Feelings
People mix these up constantly.
- "I feel like you don't care" = A Thought/Interpretation
- "I feel hurt" = A Feeling
- "I feel like this is a waste of time" = An Opinion
- "I feel frustrated" = A Feeling
When we use "I feel like," we are usually evaluating someone else’s behavior. When we use a single adjective, we are describing our own internal state. The latter is where the magic happens. It’s much harder to argue with "I feel sad" than it is to argue with "I feel like you're a jerk."
The Impact on Relationships (And Why It’s Exhausting)
In relationships, "tell me how you feel" is often used as a weapon or a last resort. We wait until we're at a breaking point to actually share. By then, the emotion is so big it’s incoherent. John Gottman, the famous relationship researcher who can basically predict divorce with 90% accuracy, talks a lot about "bids for connection." Sharing a feeling is a bid. When your partner asks how you feel and you shut down, you're turning away from that bid.
Over time, this creates "emotional flooding." This is where you get so overwhelmed by your internal state that you literally cannot process information anymore. Your heart rate goes above 100 beats per minute. You lose access to the creative, empathetic part of your brain. At this point, "tell me how you feel" becomes an impossible question to answer. You’re in survival mode.
Culture and the "Stoic" Trap
We also have to talk about how men and women are socialized differently here. Many men are taught that the only acceptable emotion is anger or "fine." This leads to something called alexithymia—the inability to identify and describe emotions. It’s not that the feelings aren't there; it's that the "software" to translate those feelings into words was never installed. For someone with high alexithymia, being asked to "tell me how you feel" is like being asked to read a book in a language they don't speak. It’s frustrating and alienating.
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How to Actually Get Better at This
You don't just wake up one day and become a poet of your own psyche. It’s a skill. It’s boring, repetitive work.
Start with the "Feelings Wheel." It sounds like something from a kindergarten classroom, but even CEOs use it. It starts with core emotions in the center and branches out into more specific nuances. Instead of "bad," maybe you’re "dismissed." Instead of "happy," maybe you’re "liberated." The more specific you get, the more your nervous system relaxes.
Another trick? Stop saying "I am."
Don't say "I am angry." Say "I am experiencing anger."
It sounds like some hippie-dippie semantic game, but it creates "cognitive defusion." You are the observer of the emotion, not the emotion itself. You are the sky; the anger is just a thunderstorm passing through. The sky isn't the storm. The sky is just the thing holding the storm.
Actionable Steps for Emotional Clarity
If you’re struggling to answer the tell me how you feel prompt—or if you're trying to get someone else to open up—forget the big "why" for a second. Focus on the "what."
1. Scan the body first. Ignore your brain. Where is the tension? Is your jaw clenched? Is your stomach tied in knots? Often, the body knows the emotion before the mind does. If your chest is tight, you might be anxious or grieving. If your hands are hot, you might be angry. Use the physical cue as a lead.
2. Use the "Three Whys" (but don't be annoying about it). Ask yourself: "I feel annoyed. Why? Because the sink is full of dishes. Why does that matter? Because it makes me feel like my work in the house isn't respected. Why is that the core? Because I’m feeling overwhelmed and unappreciated." Now you have something real to talk about, rather than just snapping about the dishes.
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3. Give it a number. If words are too hard, use a scale of 1 to 10. "On a scale of 1 to 10, how much does this situation hurt?" Sometimes starting with a number lowers the barrier to entry for a real conversation. It’s less intimidating than a deep emotional confession.
4. Practice "Holding Space" for yourself. When a feeling comes up, don't try to fix it immediately. We are so obsessed with "positivity" that we try to bypass the "negative" emotions. This is "toxic positivity." It’s okay to feel like garbage sometimes. Sitting with that feeling for 90 seconds—which is roughly the physiological lifespan of an emotion if we don't fuel it with thoughts—allows it to pass naturally.
5. Change the prompt. If you're asking someone else, and "tell me how you feel" is getting you a "nothing" or "I don't know," try something else. Try: "What's the heaviest thing on your mind right now?" or "What’s one thing that’s drained your energy today?" Specificity invites specificity.
It’s messy. You’re going to get it wrong. You’re going to say you’re "fine" when you’re actually devastated. You’re going to scream when you should have cried. That’s just being a person. But the more you practice the art of the honest check-in, the less power your "hidden" emotions have over your behavior. You start driving the bus instead of letting the ghosts in the back seat grab the wheel.
Stop waiting for a crisis to check in. Do a "weather report" for your brain every morning. Is it cloudy? Is there a high-pressure system moving in? Label it, breathe through it, and move on. That's how you actually master the "tell me how you feel" challenge.