How to Sit with Unmet Needs

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There are parts of me that still ache.
Not loudly — but quietly. Like an old bruise that flinches when pressed.

Sometimes I feel them when I’m alone.
Sometimes in the presence of people who are kind but distant.
And sometimes they sneak up on me in the form of jealousy, resentment, fantasy, or deep fatigue.

They’re unmet needs.
Not because I’m needy. But because I’m human.

And instead of trying to get rid of them or rationalise them away, I’m starting to ask a different question:

What if I could sit with them?

What if I could let the ache be felt, without having to fix it?
What if I could hold it like I would a child — mine — who just needs to be heard?

No silencing.
No rushing.
No “you should be over this by now.”

Just presence.

Because unmet needs don’t disappear when ignored. They morph. They disguise themselves as perfectionism, addictions, people-pleasing, isolation.
But when met with compassion — when seen — they begin to soften.
And sometimes, they begin to speak.

“I wanted to be protected.”
“I wanted to be chosen.”
“I wanted to matter.”
“I wanted someone to notice when I was hurting.”

They’re not asking for magic. They’re asking for you.
Your adult self. The part of you that knows better now. The part that’s slowly learning how to reparent the one who was once left alone with too much pain and too little support.

And you don’t have to solve it all at once.
You just have to stay.

Sit with the need.
Let it breathe.
Let it exist.
Let it know it doesn’t have to scream anymore to be heard.

Because when you stop abandoning your own unmet needs, the world becomes a safer place — not because it’s changed, but because you have.

Presence is the medicine. Listening is the beginning. You are not too much — you were just too alone.