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Indie writers supporting other writers, those interested in self-help or therapy, language lovers, psychology enthusiasts, over-thinkers, and anyone who ever feels consumed by emotions and wonders why it feels permanent.
Learning About Language:
I learned something recently that caused me to pause the video I was watching. A person was referring to their time living in America and comparing it to what they have experienced since living abroad. They were speaking about the use of emotions passing through us in the Spanish speaking countries they had been frequenting and touched on the psychological aspects of all of this. This prompted me to wonder about how much the way we speak in other ways outside of emotional ones impacts us as well.
As an English-speaking American, I had never realized how heavy the verb “to be” actually is. We say “I am sad” as if sadness is not a visitor but a permanent resident. We say “I am anxious” as if anxiety is our address rather than a temporary weather pattern. Though these feelings are debilitating for some of us, we do not live inside of them always.
Emotion:
The English language, particularly American English, favors the verb “to be.” If we feel something, we are that thing, can you say dramatics. I’m kidding but, honestly those who designed the way we speak in America caused this collapse. The distance between self and sensation, is minimal here in the way we speak.
In other many other languages people don’t often refer to themselves as the emotion they feel. For instance how Americans, myself included things like “I am depressed” or “I am anxious.” Instead, these some of these languages describe the feeling as something passing through them. Anger is passing through me. Sorrow is moving over me. Fear is on me right now.
I now know, this also isn’t just a translation quirk, but a fundamental difference in how we construct the self. The consequences it has on our mental health, relationships, and how we move through difficult emotions are enough to make me more apt to think about the way I speak regarding myself.
Irish (Gaelic): Sadness on Me
In Irish, emotions are something that happen to you or rest upon you. The famous construction is Tá brón orm, which literally translates to “Sadness is on me.” You don’t be sad; sadness comes to you like weather arriving. Other examples:
- Tá fearg orm — Anger is on me.
- Tá imní orm — Anxiety/worry is on me.
This grammatical structure inherently communicates impermanence. Sadness lands on you; it can also lift.
Spanish: Having Feelings, Not Being Them
Spanish commonly uses tener (to have) for emotions:
- Tengo ansiedad — I have anxiety (not I am anxious).
- Tengo miedo — I have fear.
- Tengo tristeza — I have sadness.
Possession implies a degree of separation. You can have something without being consumed by it. Spanish also uses reflexive and passive constructions that further distance the self from the feeling. Statements like me siento (I feel myself) or se me pasó la tristeza (the sadness passed through me) that allow distance in between self and feelings.
Arabic: What Passed Over Me
Arabic offers some of the most striking examples. In both Modern Standard Arabic and dialects like Levantine or Egyptian Arabic. The way they speak their emotions are frequently framed as something that came over or hit the speaker. Think of an outside force the self that moves through.
- على قلبي ضيق (‘ala albi dayyiq) — “tightness is on my heart.”
- جا عليّ حالة (ja ‘alayya haaleh, Levantine) — “A state came over me.”
- مسكني غضب (misaknī ghaḍab) — “Anger seized me” or “took hold of me.”
In classical Arabic poetics and everyday speech alike, emotions are often described as visitors, invaders, or passing clouds. You are not the anger; the anger is something that found you momentarily.
Beyond Emotions: Other Ways American English Differs
This pattern of identity vs. transience doesn’t stop with feelings. American English extends the “I am” or the “to-be” structure into domains. Here other languages use more temporary or external constructions. I found at least these three additional areas where the difference shows up. Illness and the body, success and failure, and time and urgency all of which have their own psychological impact on us all.
Illness and the Body
In American English, we say “I am sick” or “I am a diabetic” equating the condition with identity like self with emotion. In Spanish, you have sickness (estoy enfermo) is temporary “I am sick,” and chronic conditions use (tengo diabetes.) I have diabetes). In Arabic, one might say (المرض جاي عليّ) meaning the illness came upon me. Thus, framing the condition as an external visitor rather than a core identity. The difference matters: “I am a diabetic” lands differently in the psyche than “I have diabetes.”
Success and Failure
American English tends to internalize outcomes. We say “I am a failure” or “I am successful.” In many other languages, success and failure are things you achieve or experience. They are not things you are. In Japanese, success is often framed as 成功する (seikō suru) which translates to, to do/achieve success. They do not link to be successful with their identity. In French, j’ai réussi (I succeeded) keeps the event separate from the self as well.
Time and Urgency
American English is unusually future-anxious. We say “I am running late” as if lateness is an identity state. We say “I am swamped” or “I am buried.” All of these metaphors suggest we are the overwhelm. Other languages often externalize time pressure. In Arabic, one might say الوقت ضيق (“time is tight”) rather than “I am in a hurry.” In Spanish, voy con prisa (I go with hurry) also separates the self from the urgency.
What This Does to the Psyche
Linguistic structures aren’t something that is neutral. They work to shape cognition, emotional regulation, and even how we respond to distress. When a language consistently equates emotion, time, sucess, and other things with identity, it wires the brain to perceive these things as permanent traits. Likewise when a language preserves separation, it wires the brain for impermanence and separates self from trait.
Self-Differentiation – The Space Between You and the Feeling:
Psychologists use the term self-differentiation to describe the ability to hold onto your sense of self while experiencing strong emotions. The “I am” construction collapses that space. Using instead the emotion is passing through me acts to preserve it. That space is where regulation happens. Without it, you don’t have an emotion; you are the emotion. This makes it nearly impossible to respond intentionally.
Impermanence: Fighting Reality vs. Moving With It
All emotions, failures, illnesses are typically transient by nature. Neurobiologically, an emotion wave typically lasts 60 to 90 seconds when it is fully processed without cognitive resistance. But when we say “I am depressed” (as an identity), we lock ourselves into a narrative of permanence. I do want to note I am speaking emotionally and not clinically in terms of emotions . The brain, now seeking consistency, begins to look for evidence that confirms the identity. The language of transience like the emotions are moving through you, aligns with our biological reality. It says: this will pass. That statement alone changes the nervous system’s response.
Secondary Suffering – Shame on Top of Pain:
When you believe you are your emotions, failures, and illnesses, you inevitably add a second layer: What’s wrong with me? Why am I like this? Why can’t I just stop? This is called secondary suffering. The original failure, emotional state, or lateness was painful enough. The shame and self-criticism that follow are what make it debilitating. The “passing through” frame removes the self-judgment. If it is a just a visitor, there’s nothing wrong with you for hosting it.
Agency: From Victim to Witness
“I am late” positions you as the problem. There is no one left to respond. “Time is tight” positions you as the witness. You become the sky, not the storm. From that vantage point, you can choose. You can breathe. You can wait for it to become loose again. Agency is not about controlling the thing; it’s about remaining present while it passes.
Pause With Me
Let’s sit with this for a moment.
If you grew up speaking English, or if English is the language of your inner monologue, you have likely spent decades telling yourself, hundreds of times a day, that you are whatever you feel. That is not a small thing. That is a quiet conditioning that runs beneath every difficult morning, spiraling thought, and every minute you were late.
Here’s the thing language won’t tell you outright: it can be undone.
Before we move on, let me offer a few small invitations, or ideas to get you thinking of things you want to add in the comments:
- What emotion have you been telling yourself you “are” that you know now to be just be passing through?
- If you speak another language, what’s a phrase from it that separates the self from the feeling, illness, lateness, or other state of being?
- When was the last time you noticed your own inner monologue using “I am” in a way that didn’t serve you?
This conversation only gets richer when more voices enter it. I love to read everything you have to add from your own experience with languages.
Rewiring Our Inner Monologues:
Knowing the linguistics is helpful and interesting. Applying it is where things change. Below are some specific ways to begin shifting from identity-based language to a more transience-based language.
Swap
When you notice an emotion rising, try this structure:
- Instead of “I am anxious,” say internally: Anxiety is moving through me right now.
- Instead of “I am so angry,” try: “Anger is upon me.”
- Instead of “I am depressed,” try: A heavy sadness is resting on me right now. It will shift.
This isn’t about toxic positivity or pretending the feeling isn’t real. It’s about relating to it accurately: as a temporary event, not a permanent identity.
You Have, You Are Not
If you live with a chronic condition, mental or physical, experiment with shifting from identity statements to possession statements:
- “I have depression” instead of “I am depressed.”
- “I have anxiety” instead of “I am anxious.”
- “I have a chronic illness” instead of “I am sick.”
This is not denial. It is a reclamation of selfhood. You are the one carrying the condition, and you are not the condition itself.
Events, Not Identities
When you make a mistake or fall short of a goal, notice where your inner monologue turns “I am” and “to be” statements into permanent flaws. Practice rephrasing:
- “I failed that” instead of “I am a failure.”
- “I made a choice that didn’t work out” instead of “I am a mess.”
- “I am learning this slowly” instead of “I am stupid.”
Behavior is not identity. The language you use to narrate your own life either reinforces that distinction or erases it.
Externalize the Pressure:
When you feel the familiar grip of “I am so behind” or “I am buried,” try externalizing:
- “There is a lot of urgency right now” instead of “I am overwhelmed.”
- “The timeline is tight” instead of “I am running late.”
- “A lot is demanding my attention” instead of “I am drowning.”
This small shift reclaims agency. You are not the overwhelm; you are a person navigating a moment of high demand.
You Are the Weather Person, Not the Weather
Language is not a neutral tool. It is a daily practice of world-building. When a language consistently tells you that you are your emotions, your illnesses, your failures, and your overwhelm, it builds a world where those things feel inescapable. When a language tells you that emotions pass through, that illness is something you have, that failure and time constraints are something you experienced, it builds a world where you remain the stable reporter of the weather and not the weather itself.
The good news is you don’t have to move to Ireland or learn Arabic to make this shift. You just have to start listening to your own sentences. Then, when you catch yourself saying “I am” to something that is actually just visiting, you gently rewrite the line.
You are not your anger. You are not your anxiety. You are not your worst day or your loudest emotion. You are the one who notices them arrive. And you will be the one who notices them leave.
Before You Go
If this post resonated with you, share it with a friend who overthinks their inner monologue or a therapy advocate you know that would appreciate the linguistics angle.
If you know someone who doesn’t speak English as their first language who you’ve heard say “we just phrase it differently.” Share this will them and let them know you never know why it mattered before.
Drop this in your newsfeed if you believe the psychology of language deserves more attention. The more we talk about how we talk, the more we all get free of the sentences that trap us.
Thank you for reading. And thank you for staying with me to the end.
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