The Paradox of Acceptance

What you accept disappears.

Psychologist Steven C. Hayes once conducted a fascinating experiment that revealed a truth we often overlook: what truly causes pain is often not the emotion itself, but the resistance we desperately use to suppress it.

Hayes proposed a concept called psychological flexibility. It states that a person's ability to allow themselves to truly experience their emotions, rather than rushing to escape or control them, determines their capacity to remain stable under pressure.

To demonstrate this, he designed an experiment. He invited a group of participants to the lab and had them sit in a quiet, dimly lit room with a solemn atmosphere. Then, they were shown a video that evoked a strong emotional response.

This video wasn't a thriller, nor was it bloody or violent. Instead, it depicted a situation many of us would rather avoid experiencing firsthand: betrayal by someone close to us. The video went like this:

The scene opens with a woman briskly opening her boyfriend's door, cake and a handwritten card in hand, mumbling, "Happy birthday! A surprise for you!"

But the moment she enters, she freezes.

On the sofa, her boyfriend lies half-reclining, his arms around another woman. Their clothes are disheveled, the atmosphere is ambiguous, and a familiar show is playing on TV.

The woman calls out her boyfriend's name in shock. He turns, stunned for a moment, then responds coldly, "Why did you come all of a sudden?" His tone lacks a trace of guilt.

She asks, her voice trembling, "How long have you been cheating on me?"

The man shrugs, "You're being overly sensitive, aren't you? We weren't meant to be together for a long time, and you just kept on dragging it out."

The camera lingers on her dropped cake, her shaking hands, and her face, pale and humiliated. In the audience, some clenched their fists, others bowed their heads in silence. An uncontrollable anger and a stinging feeling permeated the air.

The Experimental Groups and Findings

After experiencing intense emotional arousal, participants were divided into two groups:

The first group was instructed to "control their emotions"—they had to feign calmness, avoiding expression on their face or in their words.

The second group was encouraged to "allow feelings"—they could notice their heartbeat, sweaty hands, anger, and shock, without suppressing them. They could simply observe and allow them to unfold. They could cry, write about their anger, punch a cushion (or wall), or scream if they wanted to.

Amazingly, those who were willing to experience their feelings honestly and not suppress them actually recovered faster.

Not only did their physiological indicators (such as heart rate and breathing) recover more steadily, but their subsequent responses to other stressful stimuli were also more resilient and stable.

This result clearly tells us:

Emotions are not evil; they simply need to be acknowledged. The more you resist them, the more they cling to you; the more you spend time with them, the quieter they become. The more we resist something, the more we become captive to it.

In real life, our response to emotions is often, "I don't want to feel this way. I need to get better soon." But the more we do this, the more our emotions follow us like a shadow, clinging to us and consuming us.

Imagine these thoughts popping up in your mind:

Am I not good enough?

Why did he betray me?

Have I let everyone down?

You tell yourself, "Stop thinking about it. Calm down. Cheer up!" So you scroll through your phone, force yourself to work, or force yourself to smile, trying to shut these thoughts out.

But before long, they return, even more intense. This is because that emotion was never acknowledged; you simply suppressed it.

Accept Your Emotions; Don't Rush to Pretend

Accept your emotions; don't rush to pretend.

If you want to cry, cry freely. Don't just wipe away your tears secretly; allow yourself to shed them truly.

If you feel angry, feel the force of "this is unfair" and write it down, shout it out, or act it out safely.

If you feel lost, acknowledge that you truly had expectations and are truly hurt. Allow yourself to quietly embrace that emptiness.

Feeling jealous is okay; it's simply proof of your desire to be seen and loved.

Don't rush to say, "I'm fine." Pause and let the discomfort flow through you. Feel where it's stuck, where it stung. The more you're willing to face it, the faster it will pass.

"Allow the emotion to pass through you like a wave. Don't fight it, don't drown in it—just let it rise and fall."

—Tara Brach

True strength lies in being willing to acknowledge your own vulnerability. We've all been taught to be "strong," "optimistic," and "not too emotional."

But real life is never linear. It has pain, setbacks, and moments that churn. Maturity isn't about suppressing emotions, but about being able to walk through them.

Acceptance isn't weakness, but a gentle awakening. You don't need to "get better immediately." You just need to allow yourself that "it's okay right now."

What you accept, disappears. Because you finally stop fighting it, and stop fighting yourself.

Thank you for reading!