Making Space for the Logical and the Emotional

Carrying on from my last post…

Have you ever found yourself saying something like:

  • “I know it doesn’t make sense, but I still feel this way.”

  • “Logically, I get it—but emotionally, I’m just not there yet.”

  • “I’m trying to be rational, but I feel all over the place.”

If so, you’re not alone.

One of the most common experiences I witness in the therapy room is the inner push-and-pull between different parts— especially the part that knows and the part that feels.

Here’s a gentle truth I want to offer:
You don’t have to choose between them.

Two Kinds of Inner Knowing

There’s the kind of knowing that comes from our thinking brain—what we’ve been taught, what makes sense, what seems “reasonable.”

And then there’s the kind of knowing that lives in the body—what we’ve lived through, what we’re carrying, what still needs tending to.

Both forms of knowing are valid.
Both have something to say.
Both are trying to help in the only ways they know how.

When they’re what feels like battling each other, it’s not a problem to fix—it’s often a sign that something important is is coming up!

What Happens When One Part Takes Over?

When we blend with our thinking, cognitive self:

  • We may over-analyze, rationalize, or try to talk ourselves out of what we’re actually feeling.

  • We might minimize or override emotions—calling them irrational, dramatic, or inconvenient.

  • That logical part may just be trying to help—and in doing so, it can unintentionally disconnect us from what’s truly asking for support.

When we’re overtaken by emotion:

  • It can feel like being swept into a current of fear, shame, sadness, or anger.

  • That part might be carrying pain from earlier in our story—not just what's happening today.

  • Without any grounding, we can lose perspective on what’s real right now.

Both strategies make sense. Both are protective.
And neither needs to be in charge all by itself.

In the Therapy Room…

It’s not uncommon for someone to say something deeply vulnerable—then immediately pull it back with:

  • “I know I shouldn’t feel this way.”

  • “Maybe I’m just overreacting.”

  • “Other people have it worse.”

That’s often a logical or a manager part stepping in to restore order, protect from shame, or just help things feel safer. It’s doing its job!

And sometimes, what’s needed is simply more space for the emotional part to speak.

When that happens, I might gently ask:

“Is there room for both parts to be here?”

Let’s let the one who feels be heard—while the one who knows can stay nearby, grounded and curious.

It’s in that kind of internal collaboration that real healing begins.

A Gentle Example

Let’s say someone is going through a breakup. They might say:

  • “I know it was the right thing… and I still feel devastated.”

Rather than force a resolution, we might slow down and ask:

  • What does the logical part want you to remember?

  • What does the emotional part need right now?

  • Can we let them sit together—without one needing to convince the other?

This isn’t about fixing. It’s about witnessing.

When we approach these inner experiences with curiosity instead of judgement, things begin to shift—often in subtle, meaningful ways.

In Your Everyday Life

When you feel that inner tug-of-war, consider pausing to ask:

  • What do I know to be true right now?

  • What do I feel to be true?

  • Can I let both have space, even if they don’t align?

  • What happens if I breathe with the tension, instead of trying to resolve it?

You don’t have to pick a side.
You just have to listen.

Final Thoughts

You are allowed to feel more than one thing at once.
You are allowed to have parts of you that disagree.
You are allowed to hold complexity—and still be whole.

In therapy—and in life—we’re not always seeking certainty.
Sometimes, the deepest work is simply this:

To stay.
To notice.
To offer kindness to every part that shows up.

With warmth and care,
Abbey

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