The Emotional Aftermath of Being Misunderstood
There are moments when someone responds to you in a way that feels off: a comment that lands sideways, a look that doesn’t match your intention, a tone that suggests they’ve interpreted you through a lens you didn’t choose. Most of the time, you move on. But when misunderstanding becomes a pattern, it leaves a mark.
For many LGBTQ+ people, neurodivergent people, and people living with chronic illness, being misread is a familiar experience woven through workplace interactions, medical appointments, and relationships. You learn to anticipate it, brace for it, and adjust around it. And even when you handle it gracefully, the emotional residue lingers.
Misunderstanding disrupts not only the moment but also your sense of being accurately known.
There’s the workplace version: colleagues mistake your focus for coldness, your fatigue for lack of motivation, or your sensory limits for inflexibility. You find yourself over-explaining, over-performing, or over-accommodating to prevent the narrative from forming in the first place.
There’s the medical version: a provider assumes your symptoms are exaggerated, psychosomatic, or unrelated to what you’re describing. You leave the appointment replaying every sentence, wondering if you should have explained differently, spoken more slowly, softened your tone, or provided more context. The exhaustion isn’t only from the appointment itself, but from the effort of trying to be understood inside a system that often doesn’t listen.
And there’s the relational version: a partner or friend interprets your quietness as disinterest, your directness as irritation, or your need for space as rejection. You feel the urge to clarify, but also the weight of having to explain yourself once more. You start monitoring your expressions, your pacing, your tone, all to avoid being misinterpreted yet again.
Each instance seems small, but together they accumulate.
A tightening in your chest before speaking. A pause before sharing an opinion. A habit of rehearsing what you want to say. A reluctance to ask for help. A sense of being slightly out of sync with the rest of the world. You begin to carry around the question:
Will they understand me this time?
In therapy, we explore the emotional residue left by repeated misinterpretation: the vigilance, the self-editing, the practiced ease that hides your internal experience. We look at the places where you’ve learned to shrink or stretch yourself to fit someone else’s perception. It can become a kind of masking, a way of moving through the world that once felt protective but now feels too heavy to carry.
In my work with clients, the goal is to build relationships with others, and a relationship with yourself, where you don't have to translate your reality in order to be known.
Working Together
I offer trauma-informed telehealth therapy for adults navigating chronic illness and identity stress. Virtual appointments are available for clients across Colorado and Florida, with expanded telehealth availability for Virginia coming soon.