“I love you,” I said at the end of a coaching session.
After we closed the call, I sat at my desk and noticed the significance of it.
You see, I grew up in Taiwan.
In my family, we never said “I love you.”
Heck, we barely talked about emotions at all.
When my mom passed away, I was told not to cry.
I would sometimes dream about her and wake up with tears falling quietly.
Even then, I would beat myself up for being weak.
For letting emotions affect me.
Being emotional was not productive.
That was a program running in me for decades.
Later, when I worked as a leader in the U.S., the message did not change much.
“Don’t let others see your emotions,” echoed in my subconscious.
Cultural conditioning around emotions
It was not until I started working with my first coach almost ten years ago that I began a long, slow journey of rewriting my relationship with emotions and feelings.
I realized something surprising along the way.
In my culture, anger is more acceptable.
Most other emotions are not.
Not sadness.
Not grief.
Not tenderness.
Not love.
As I became more open to noticing what I felt, I discovered another challenge. I did not have the language for it.
For a long time, my emotional vocabulary had only three words.
Sad.
Angry.
Happy.
That was it.
Learning emotional language as an adult
Over years of work, I had to learn how to identify what I was actually feeling in my body.
Was I excited?
Anxious?
Hurt?
Lonely?
At peace?
It felt like being a child again, learning an emotional dictionary for the first time.
What is this feeling?
Where does it live in my body?
I had to learn to be curious about my feelings instead of pushing them away, which had been my default for most of my life.
Learning to receive and express love
Love was not even part of the picture.
And yet, I deeply crave unconditional love.
A few years ago, I joined a community where people often ended conversations with “loving you.”
At first, my mind rejected it.
“You don’t even know me. How can you love me?” I thought.
Then I joined a Zoom call with someone named Steve Hardison. I did not know him well. I was simply listening. And suddenly, tears started falling.
Before my mind could make sense of anything, I felt something unmistakable in my body.
I felt unconditional love.
The kind of love I did not need to earn.
It was simply there.
That moment softened something in me.
I began to understand that when some people say “loving you,” they mean it as a way of loving humanity itself. Fully.
I slowly learned how to receive that.
Still, there was a big gap between receiving love and being able to speak it.
Over time, as I allowed myself to receive genuine love, the part of me that refused to say it began to open.
One day, I noticed myself saying “love you” back.
I was surprised.
And it felt deeply true.
And deeply satisfying.
Love in coaching relationships
Even then, I kept that part of me hidden, especially with my clients.
For more than twenty years as an engineering leader, I was rewarded for being analytical, precise, and composed. Emotions were labeled, by myself and others, as weakness.
So even as a coach, I held that part of me back.
But the more I evolved in my coaching work, the more I witnessed the beauty of my clients’ minds and souls, the harder it became to hide.
When we connect at a deeper level, there is no tactic needed.
No framework required.
There is only presence.
And love.
Why I’m saying this out loud
So this is me saying it out loud.
Yes, I love the people I work with.
I am inspired by their courage.
Their thoughtfulness.
Their doubts.
Their willingness to go beyond the norm to demand truth, fulfillment, and freedom in their life.
I left that coaching session with a calm body, a clear mind, and a deep sense of rightness about what was spoken.
A reflection for you
If you are reading this, you may be someone who has learned to hide your emotions too.
You are not alone.
And you deserve spaces where your full humanity is welcome.
Love,
Wen
P.S. If this brought something up for you, I’d love to hear about it. Reply or leave a comment!