By Dr Paula Davis
“Marriage is not about meeting all of your partner’s needs; it’s about being willing to be the safe place where they can express those needs.” ~ Unknown
“What counts in making a happy marriage is not so much how compatible you are, but how you deal with incompatibility.” ~ Leo Tolstoy
“A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance…” ~ Ecclesiastes 3:4
Emotions Are Sacred Messengers
Emotions are often seen as obstacles to faith or reason, but in reality, they are sacred messengers of the soul. Beneath anger, fear, shame, and sadness lies a deeper cry for connection, significance, or safety. Rather than suppressing or dismissing them, when we learn to listen to our emotions, they reveal profound truths about our needs, longings, and wounds. In the hands of God, our emotions become invitations for healing, deeper intimacy, and spiritual transformation. They are not to be feared but embraced as tools for growth and restoration.
Post Mullaitivu
A year after a painful incident in post-war Mullaitivu, Sri Lanka, when words were spoken that wounded us and created distance between us, we attended a residential marriage workshop. During one of the breakout sessions, we sat together on the hotel bed, once again revisiting that moment, circling back to the unresolved emotions within us and between us. Then, suddenly, Barry had an epiphany. I asked him what he wished he’d done differently. Without hesitation, he said, “I would have liked to flop on the bed and weep.”
His words hung in the air, raw, unexpected, and tender. That moment cracked something open. Our conversation shifted, exposing a long-held pattern in Barry’s life: the habitual denial of his own needs, rooted deeply in his family of origin. When he experienced a searing need, his instinct wasn’t to acknowledge it but to suppress it and place the blame elsewhere.
That conversation marked a turning point for both of us. For the first time, we truly felt heard. Our emotions were acknowledged, not dismissed. Barry recognised that the voice in his head whispering, my needs don’t matter, wasn’t from God, it was a lie from the enemy that had shaped his responses for years.
Instead of letting it define him, he chose to bring that lie to God, for forgiveness, healing, and the courage to love more fully. Then he turned to me and asked something unexpected: could he start naming his needs to me, no matter how small they seemed? It wasn’t just about expressing them. It was about learning to recognise, honour, and voice them in a way that invited connection instead of shutting it down.
Belongings left behind as people fled the bombs
How Do Feelings Uncover Needs?
Feelings are vital signposts. They alert us to unmet needs. Like Barry, many of us experience distressing emotions when our needs go unacknowledged, leading to unnecessary suffering. Philosopher Martha Nussbaum (2007) encourages us not to hold our emotions in contempt. A person without any needs would never feel fear, grief, hope, or anger. But when our needs are unmet, or when we’ve been shamed for having them, our emotional life can feel like something to hide. Nussbaum insists that we must embrace our emotional experiences, no matter how uncomfortable, and cultivate language to name them.
Our emotions are the inner world’s way of signalling that something essential is lacking or under threat. For example, anger often signals a need for safety or justice. I remember one day when our son came to Barry, angry and upset. For the first time, Barry didn’t react defensively. Instead, he asked, “Who hurt you?” and then gently added, “What did you need in that moment? How did you feel unheard or unvalued?” That simple act of inquiry helped uncover the deeper need beneath the anger.
Naming Our Needs
Emotional needs are diverse but foundational to human flourishing. These include:
- Security: A safe space where we can grow and thrive.
- Attention: The need to give and receive emotional presence.
- Autonomy: The ability to make responsible, independent choices.
- Emotional connection: Being seen, understood, and empathised with.
- Belonging: Knowing we are part of something bigger than ourselves.
- Intimacy: Being accepted for who we truly are, flaws and all.
- Privacy: Time and space to reflect and be alone with our thoughts.
- Status: Feeling valued and recognised in our social worlds.
- Competence: A sense of capability and achievement.
- Purpose: Meaningful contribution to something greater (Barr, n.d.).
We are wired for connection, to be seen, heard, and valued. When Barry’s emotional needs went unmet in childhood, he learned to view the need itself as the problem. Over time, this led to the suppression of feelings and even shame about having needs at all. He wasn’t alone. Many adults don’t know how to name their emotional needs, sometimes living under impulsive patterns or retreating into emotional numbness.
As Barry became more aware of his needs, the first step was naming them, claiming them as real and legitimate. He couldn’t expect me, or anyone else, to meet needs he himself couldn’t acknowledge.
Often, we choose partners who unconsciously recreate the emotional environments in which we first learned to hide or dismiss our needs. That was certainly true for us. We were caught in familiar patterns, ones we didn’t choose, but kept repeating. To feel worthy of having our needs met is foundational. When we believe our needs matter, we become open to the love and care that helps us flourish.
How Does Upbringing Influence Emotions?
Our ability to feel and manage emotions is often shaped by what we learned growing up. Consider how your emotional world might have been formed if:
- The people meant to care for you were cruel or critical.
- Kindness was shown, only to be betrayed later.
- You were called “stupid” when trying something new.
- You were shamed for needing affection.
Such formative experiences often lead us to believe emotions are dangerous or shameful. We may internalise the message that something is wrong with us for feeling deeply. But what if the opposite is true? What if something is right with us?
In Psalm 6:6, David cries, “I am worn out from my groaning.” His tears reveal not only sorrow, but the intimacy he shared with God. Our emotions likewise offer windows into our longings and how we respond to them. If we don’t know what we feel, we won’t truly know ourselves, or our deepest desires. We may silence our emotions and, in doing so, silence our authenticity.
Proverbs outlines two ways to respond to emotions. Proverbs 29:11 says a fool gives full vent to their feelings, with no self-control. But the wise person, also in 29:11, “holds them back,” not in suppression, but in calming them. The Hebrew here suggests soothing. Wisdom lies in knowing how to ride out emotional storms with grace.
Emotions can even lead us to repentance and compassion. They’re evidence of deep spiritual life, drawing us nearer to the Father’s heart. As Proverbs 20:5 says, “The purposes of a man’s heart are deep waters, but a man of understanding draws them out.” Helping someone access and express their emotions isn’t weakness, it’s strength. Jesus Himself expressed a full range of emotions. He wept, raged, rejoiced. His emotional life was an extension of His love.
What Makes Us Hide?
In the Garden of Eden, Adam and Eve hid, from God, and from each other. Humanity has been hiding ever since. Genesis 3:8 (MSG) recounts: “When they heard the sound of God strolling in the garden in the evening breeze, the Man and his Wife hid in the trees of the garden, hid from God. God called to the Man: ‘Where are you?’ He said, ‘I heard you in the garden and I was afraid because I was naked. And I hid.’”
John Powell’s classic Why Am I Afraid to Tell You Who I Am? (1969) explains that to be truly authentic, we must be able to share our inner world, our thoughts, values, hopes, and fears. But we can only do that if someone helps us feel safe. Without that help, we remain hidden.
Powell identified five levels of communication. For clarity, I’ve adapted them into three:
1. Mouth-to-Mouth
Surface-level clichés and casual conversation. Safe. Impersonal. It might sound like:
- “Hello, how are you?”
- “I’m fine, thanks” (even when you’re not).
- “Have a good day.”
2. Head-to-Head
Sharing facts, thoughts, or opinions. Some self-disclosure, but little risk. It might sound like:
- “Australia beat England in the cricket.”
- “The church needs to do more for the poor.”
- “The drought’s been tough on farmers.”
3. Heart-to-Heart
The deepest level of communication. Vulnerable. Intimate. Real. This is where true connection happens. We don’t just say what we think, we reveal why it matters. We share longings, wounds, and needs. This is where intimacy begins. We reveal what we feel, our needs, fears, longings. It’s risky, but real.
Reflecting on our conversation in Mullaitivu, it might sound like:
- “When you dismiss my feelings, I feel abandoned.”
- “I needed comfort, not solutions.”
- “I’m afraid of being invisible.
- “I feel sad when my needs are neglected, and I want you to understand what they are. It would help if you could listen, explore their origins with me, and hold space without judgment, even if the way I express them feels messy.”
To live from the heart is to live honestly, with God, with ourselves, and with each other. And in doing so, we open the door to healing.
As Powell notes, “Most of us feel that others will not tolerate such emotional honesty in communication. We would rather defend our dishonesty on the grounds that it might hurt others, rationalizing our phoniness as nobility and settling for superficial relationships.”
Richard Rohr (2013, p. 168) asks: How can one communicate a secret to others? Is it possible to make a secret “unhidden”? A secret becomes unhidden when individuals stop concealing it, from God, themselves, and at least one other person. The revelation of our authentic selves is the primary disclosure of the secret. This act of risky self-disclosure is what defines intimacy, which, in turn, serves as the mechanism through which love is transmitted.
Heart-to-heart communication is essential for trust, commitment, and intimacy, particularly in marriage. Here are more examples of heart-to-heart communication:
- “Thank you for listening to me. I felt loved and special.”
- “I feel hurt when you dismiss my problems.”
- “I feel angry when you lecture me. Can we talk about it? I care too much about us to let it slide.”
- “I don’t like myself much right now. I don’t feel like I have much to offer.”
- “I realize I’ve been avoiding involvement with my son, and I want to change.”
Reflect on your closest relationship: On which level do you typically communicate?
Why Do We Lock Doors?
Many of us avoid heart-to-heart communication because unspoken filters shape our conversations, blocking certain topics, money, sex, emotions, before they even surface. These hidden barriers leave little room for genuine connection. As a result, emotions like anger, joy, care, and resentment get stifled, the door to deeper dialogue stays locked, and we resign ourselves to surface-level exchanges. Here are some reasons we hide:
- Fear of ridicule or being seen as dumb or weak.
- The desire not to hurt or offend others.
- Childhood influences shaping our communication habits.
- The belief that sharing feelings is a sign of weakness (Jesus expressed His sorrow, saying, “My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death”).
- Poor self-image – feeling ashamed of who we are. (“Who cares about what I think or feel?”)
- Fear of being ignored or rejected.
- Fear of emotional intensity and losing control.
- Shame – feeling exposed or vulnerable.
- Fear of betrayal of confidentiality.
- Fear of changing the relationship dynamics.
When we avoid saying what we feel or ignore small offenses, we gradually shut ourselves off emotionally. We begin locking one door after another, leaving only a few rooms open and avoiding deep, meaningful conversations. Intimacy is the ability to reveal our inner life to someone we trust, and without heart-to-heart communication, true intimacy can’t flourish.
The Scriptures and Emotions
Scripture affirms the power of emotional sharing in relationships, calling us to bear one another’s burdens. When we share our feelings, especially with those we trust, we not only manage our emotions more effectively but also receive comfort, support, and perspective. As believers, we are called to live in community, carrying each other’s struggles and offering encouragement (Romans 12; Galatians 6:1-10; 2 Corinthians 1:3-5; Hebrews 3:13). Beyond emotional support, fellow believers help ground us in God’s truth, reminding us of what is real when our emotions threaten to distort our vision.
Jesus Himself modelled emotional expression. He didn’t suppress or dismiss His feelings. Instead, He fully experienced and expressed them in ways that honoured God:
- Love and compassion as He healed the sick and oppressed.
- Joy and delight at the wedding in Cana.
- Grief and sorrow, weeping over Jerusalem’s rejection.
- Tears of mourning at the death of His friend, Lazarus.
- Deep sorrow, being known as a “Man of sorrows, acquainted with grief.”
- Righteous anger at the hypocrisy of the Pharisees and the corruption in the temple.
- Anxiety, distress, and loneliness in the Garden of Gethsemane.
- The agony of betrayal, abandoned by both Judas and Peter.
Jesus revealed His heart not only through words and actions but also through His emotions. He used vivid imagery to express His longing for relationship: a bridegroom yearning for His bride, a mother hen gathering her chicks, a wounded lover longing for return. Perhaps the purest expression of emotional devotion is captured in Psalm 73:25, “Whom have I in heaven but You? And there is none on earth that I desire besides You.”
So, how do we move from emotionally overloaded relationships or from task-driven, performance-oriented dynamics to emotional wholeness? How do we allow long-buried feelings to surface and be named? Often, the first step is recognizing and stopping the patterns we use to numb or suppress our emotions. When we create space to feel deeply and reflect, those emotions, no matter how long buried, begin to surface. And as they do, we step into deeper emotional health, intimacy, and connection.
Closing Thoughts
Feelings serve as powerful signposts, pointing to what is happening within us and in our lives. They are an essential part of being made in God’s image and play a critical role in fostering intimacy in relationships. Rather than being forces that control us, feelings are meant to guide us, helping us understand deeper needs and values. They can be expressed both verbally and non-verbally, sometimes even without our full awareness. Often, unexpressed emotions are stored in the body, contributing to various physical ailments. Emotions reveal what we value and believe and can serve as a window into unmet needs, many of which stem from our childhood experiences.
How we handle our feelings is deeply influenced by our upbringing and the effects of the Fall. Just as Adam hid from God and Eve in the Garden, we have continued this pattern of hiding ever since. From early childhood, many of us learn to suppress certain emotions to protect those around us and ensure our survival. As adults, this tendency to hide emotions persists as a defence mechanism against the fear of rejection. We worry that if we fully reveal ourselves, we may be hurt again. This fear impacts the depth of our communication and connection with others.
True intimacy, knowing oneself and being known by others, can only be achieved through heart-to-heart communication. As we allow ourselves to be vulnerable and share our innermost feelings, we invite deeper connection and understanding, fostering authentic relationships.
While emotions serve as signposts, they are not always as straightforward as they may seem. Sometimes, what we initially feel may not be the real emotion beneath the surface. In our desire to protect ourselves or maintain control, we may mask the true emotion, either consciously or unconsciously. Recognizing and naming the real emotion can be a powerful step toward healing and deeper intimacy. It allows us to move beyond surface reactions and address the root of what is truly affecting us, enabling more authentic and meaningful connections with others.
Declarations
I declare that I have been hiding, shielding myself behind barriers built from past rejection and lack of love.
I declare that I once walked in darkness, but now I live in the Light, and it is safe to come out of hiding.
I declare that You, God, are calling me into the open, and You, Father, have brought me into the Kingdom of Your Son and His love (Colossians 1:13).
I declare that Your love for me is unchanging and unfailing. Because I am deeply loved, I will open my heart to receive love from those You have placed in my life.
I declare that I am capable of loving and being loved without fear of loss, for I am the beloved son/daughter You have created me to be.
Prayer
Now,
O Lord,
calm me into a quietness
that heals
and listens,
and molds my longings
and passions,
my wounds
and wonderings
into a more holy
and human
shape.
(Loder, 2005)
Reflection Questions
- What emotions do I tend to suppress or hide, and how might these unexpressed feelings be affecting my relationships or physical well-being?
- In moments of emotional vulnerability, how do I typically respond? Do I lean into connection and openness, or do I retreat and protect myself?
- What is one emotion I have struggled to name or fully understand, and what might that emotion be trying to teach me about my deeper needs or values?
- How can I create space for more heart-to-heart communication in my closest relationships, and what might I need to be more vulnerable about to foster greater intimacy?
- In what areas of my life or past experiences have I learned to mask or suppress my true emotions to protect myself or others, and how can I begin to undo these patterns in a healthy way?
About the Author
Paula has spent the last three decades of her life sitting with people in some of their darkest moments, and somehow still believes deeply in hope. A clinical counsellor, supervisor, educator, and self-confessed lifelong student of trauma, Paula has taught, researched, and worked alongside counsellors and communities across Australia and overseas. Her doctoral research explored how Western trauma approaches can be adapted for collective cultures, a passion that continues to shape everything she writes and teaches.
Together with her husband Barry (of over five decades), she has travelled the world helping couples strengthen their relationships and co-authored A Safe Place: A Marriage Enrichment Resource Manual. She is also the author of Eating Water, Drinking Soup: Finding Nourishment in the Deepest Pain, Exploring the Roots of Heartache: The Stories Our Pain Is Trying to Tell, and After the Breaking: Psychological Trauma and Collective Healing.
These days, Paula is officially “retired,” although nobody seems to have told her calendar. She still writes, teaches, mentors, and is forever collecting stories, books, and ideas that help people heal. When she’s not immersed in trauma theory or rewriting chapters for the twentieth time, you’ll probably find her walking along the beach near her home on the east coast of Australia, swimming in the surf, sharing coffee with Barry, or plotting her next overseas adventure. She firmly believes that good conversations, beautiful sunsets, and God’s grace have remarkable healing properties.
