You Are Not Responsible for Other People’s Emotions

I want you to read this sentence and let it land in your body:

You are not responsible for other people’s emotions.

If you grew up as the "responsible one," the "peacekeeper," or the "good kid," that sentence probably doesn’t feel like freedom. It feels like a threat. It feels like I’m asking you to be cold, or selfish, or to abandon the people you love.

But here’s the truth we don’t talk about enough: If you were conditioned to manage the emotions of the adults around you, you didn’t learn empathy, you learned surveillance. You learned to scan the room, anticipate the mood, and fix the tension before it exploded… which means you also became the emotional thermostat for everyone else’s nervous system.

And now, as an adult, you’re exhausted. You don’t just care about people; you carry them. When you try to set a boundary, guilt hits you like an alarm. But that guilt isn't a sign you're doing something wrong. It’s a withdrawal symptom from a role you were never meant to play.

Why the Guilt Feels Heavy 

We feel guilty because our nervous systems are still operating on an "Old Contract." When you were small, staying attuned to a parent’s volatility or sadness was a survival strategy. If they were okay, you were safe.

Today, when a friend is disappointed or a partner is grumpy, your body interprets their discomfort as a 5-alarm fire. You over-explain, soften, and you apologize for having needs. This cycle continues because you’ve been trained to believe that your safety is tied to their satisfaction.

Here’s how to start moving from "The Fixer" to "The Individual":

1. Distinguish Impact vs. Responsibility. You are responsible for your actions, your words, and your integrity. You are not responsible for how someone else chooses to metabolize reality. If you speak your truth kindly and they react with rage, that rage belongs to them. Let them keep it.

2. Audit the "Guilt Voice." The next time you feel that crushing guilt for saying "no," ask: Whose voice is this? Is it yours? Or is it the echo of a parent who told you that being "good" meant being "easy"? Most of our guilt is inherited labor we never consented to.

3. Practice the "Pause." When someone around you is in pain, notice the frantic urge to fix it. Instead of jumping in, take three breaths. Remind yourself: "I can be a witness to their pain without having to be the solution for it."

🎙️ You Are Not Responsible for Other People’s Emotions

In this week’s episode, we’re peeling back the layers on what it actually looks like to resign from the role of "The Fixer." I’m getting real about the difference between impact and responsibility, and why we’ve been conditioned to believe that someone else’s discomfort is a fire we’re required to put out. 

If you’ve ever felt like you’re the emotional landfill for everyone in your life, this conversation is the permission slip you’ve been waiting for to finally set the bags down and start living for yourself. 

Give it a listen. 🎧

The Guest You Didn't Invite: Grief

When you start honoring yourself, grief is going to show up uninvited like that one person who 'happened to be in the neighborhood' and pops by right when you’ve finally sat down in your pajamas to relax.

You finally created some space for yourself, and suddenly, there they are, knocking on the door of your heart, demanding to be let in. It’s going to hit you at the weirdest times while you’re doing the dishes or driving to work. You’ll grieve the roles you played, and the relationships you didn’t get to have because you were too busy being a bodyguard.

You’re also mourning the mom who couldn't hold your emotions, so you had to hold hers. The dad who only saw you when you were "performing." The siblings you had to raise while you were still a child yourself. Even the friendships and romantic partners who only loved the version of you that never said “no.”

This sadness is proof that you’re finally safe enough to feel what you had to suppress for decades just to keep the peace. You are excavating the authentic parts of yourself that were buried under everyone else’s comfort. Let the grief come. It’s just the soul’s way of clearing out the old to make room for the real.

Your worth is not a paycheck you earn by managing other people’s dysregulation. You were not born to be a buffer, a shock absorber, or a human apology. You are allowed to be inconvenient and to be a person who has limits. And most importantly, you are allowed to be loved for who you are, not just for how useful you can be.

Healing doesn’t mean you become less compassionate. It means you become less available for self-abandonment. You can have a heart of gold and a spine of steel. You’re allowed to belong to yourself.

See you next Saturday ❤️

Suttida

P.S. I get asked some version of this question all the time: “How do I even start healing?” That question is exactly why I created the 4-week deep dive workbook. It’s a place to begin when you’re ready to stop circling the work and start meeting yourself with intention. Get your copy. 📖