Don’t be sad, it will be fine; stop sulking; stop crying; why the long face; enough with this sadness; what kind of man/boy are you if you’re bawling—don’t cry… I could go on. I hope this is enough to help you see the absurdity of these statements directed at someone experiencing sadness.

Today, just like in the article dedicated to anger, I want to take on the role of an advocate for sadness. Let’s reflect: why did we learn to swallow our tears, suppress sadness, and push it to the periphery of our awareness?

When we don’t understand our own sadness and fail to accept it within ourselves, we tend to launch a frontal attack when we see it in others. What is difficult and unacceptable for us personally automatically becomes ‘bad’ behavior in others. We cannot help anyone process their sadness if we are unable to deal with it ourselves.

So, what’s the deal with sadness?

Sadness is an emotional response to loss—the absence of something that once was but is no longer. This could be the lack of a sense of love in a relationship with the most important people in our lives. It could be a more or less definitive rejection. Rejection is often accompanied by feelings of loneliness, isolation, and lack of connection. Rejection is not only an act expressed through someone else’s actions; it can also take the form of inaction, ignoring us—then rejection is passive.
Another aspect of sadness can be the lack of acceptance of being who we are—in this case, rejection is linked to the imposition and domination of how one should be. It is a life entirely subordinated to someone else’s vision of who we should become.
There is also sadness related to time. On one hand, it is anchored in the past, in the loss of what was in our lives or could have been but never occurred—lost childhood, freedom, and spontaneity. On the other hand, it is anchored in the future, connected to the awareness of mortality and the fear of death.
Of course, this does not exhaust the list, but it illustrates how broad the phenomenon of sadness is in our lives. The scope and variety of situations accompanied by sadness indicate that experiencing it is unavoidable.

Journey Within

Since we know that sadness has been, is, and will continue to be present in our lives, let’s try to answer the question of what role it plays. In the previous article Anger, in which I explored the function and experience of anger, I wrote that emotions are messengers. If anger communicates discomfort and signals when boundaries are crossed, prompting action, then what does sadness communicate?
Sadness, as an emotion, directs energy inward. Anger encourages us to expend energy outward, toward action. Sadness directs our energy inward and invites us to turn inward, reflect, and engage in introspection. This allows us to become aware of what has just happened in our lives. Sadness is a message about loss, absence, or that something important and unique is gone. It informs us that something essential to us requires our care. It is a cue that, if properly understood, can lead us to a key need at that moment.
There are many possibilities: it may be a need for safety, acceptance, to be loved or respected, to have our individuality recognized, and many, many others. Losing someone or something is painful and can cause sadness, but if we look closer, it is not the loss itself that hurts—it is the unmet need. Losing a job may trigger a loss of security; rejection in a relationship may result in a loss of self-worth and acceptance. Lack of acknowledgment from an important person for our achievements may strike directly at the need to feel appreciated.

A Backpack Full of Experiences

At this point, our backpack of experiences becomes important. Jean-Paul Sartre once said: ‘What matters is not what is done to us, but what we do with it.’ Personally, I believe this sentence holds the key to the solution—the path that sadness invites us to take. Sadness tells us to take care of ourselves and find a way to meet our needs. If we seek a constructive way out of a difficult situation, it can make similar situations in the future a little easier to handle.
Following Sartre’s line of thought—if we stop at the feeling of rejection, whether from a boss, a parent, or a partner—the only outcome will be a sense of helplessness and failure. But loss is not the end. Loss, through which we become aware of ‘what is truly important to us,’ can become a beginning—a foundation for something better and more lasting.
It is in this experience that we can look for examples of how we have previously met this specific need. We can ask ourselves: ‘What made me feel safe in the past?’ or ‘What allowed me to feel accepted?’ If I can identify this, it becomes a guide for how I can meet this need again and become better adapted.
It is also important to distinguish between what depends on us and what does not—what we can control ourselves versus what we have no influence over. For example, I can control whether I ask someone for help or accept help if it is offered, but I cannot control whether someone wants to help me or the way they provide it.

The next time sadness appears in our lives, let us allow ourselves to feel it—allow the pain, the tears, perhaps a moment of solitude or a moment of weakness in someone’s arms. Let us not run from sadness, nor try to replace or drown it out. It has something important to tell us about ourselves, and it is worth listening.
We don’t always have to cope, we don’t always have to succeed, and we don’t always have to be perfect. We are already good enough, even if not everything goes our way and we feel a sense of loss, even if we spend time outdoors, drowning in tears. Believe that you are the best version of yourself. As you are now, it is okay, and all of this has a deeper meaning. Sometimes, all it takes is a little time in silence and simply listening.

Michał Śmiałowski