Do You Feel Like You've Always Done Something Wrong?
Have you ever had that feeling that you've done something wrong, even when nobody has said anything?
Perhaps you replay a conversation in your head, wondering whether you said the wrong thing. You find yourself apologising when you haven't done anything to apologise for, worrying that someone is upset with you, or feeling responsible for keeping everyone around you happy.
You might find it difficult to switch off, even when you have time to yourself. You sit down for a moment, but before long you're back on your feet, finding something to do, making sure everyone else is alright or getting ahead of the next thing that needs doing.
And if someone comes home, perhaps you instinctively get up and start tidying, making a cup of tea or looking busy, even though nobody has asked you to.
I know this feeling because it is something I've experienced myself. For a long time, I would often assume I'd done something wrong, even when there was no obvious reason to think that I had. I still have moments when that familiar feeling creeps in, which is perhaps why this subject has been on my mind so much recently. It is also a useful reminder to me that recognising a pattern doesn't mean it will never show up again. Sometimes the important thing is noticing it, rather than automatically believing it.
For some people, this is such a familiar way of living that they barely question it. It can feel like part of their personality. But sometimes, underneath these behaviours, there is a learned response that has been with us for a long time.
How do we learn to feel this way?
Our early experiences help shape how we understand ourselves, other people and the world around us.
As children, we are constantly learning what feels safe, what is expected of us and how to maintain connection with the people we depend on. We are particularly sensitive to the emotional environment around us, even before we have the words or understanding to make sense of it.
If we grow up around frequent criticism, conflict, unpredictability or emotional tension, we may learn to become particularly alert to other people's moods and reactions.
Perhaps being good, helpful, quiet or agreeable helped avoid conflict. Perhaps we learnt to anticipate what someone else needed before they asked. Or perhaps we became used to taking responsibility for keeping the peace.
These responses can develop in many different family environments. They don't necessarily mean that something terrible happened, but they can reflect the ways we adapted to the circumstances around us.
One concept that researchers have explored is emotional parentification. This is when a child takes on emotional responsibilities that would usually belong to an adult. For example, they might feel responsible for managing a parent's feelings, comforting them, keeping the peace or anticipating their emotional needs.
A child may become so accustomed to looking after everyone else that they have little opportunity to recognise or express their own needs.
Research into childhood parentification has found associations with psychological difficulties in adulthood, although experiences and outcomes vary considerably. It is important to remember that these patterns are not inevitable, and not everyone who struggles with people-pleasing or feeling at fault has experienced parentification.
When a protective response becomes a pattern
The responses that develop in childhood can be useful at the time. Being observant, accommodating or quick to respond to other people's needs may help a child feel more secure or maintain important relationships.
The difficulty is that these responses can continue long after the original circumstances have changed.
As adults, we may find ourselves anticipating criticism when none is coming, feeling uncomfortable when someone is quiet, or assuming that another person's mood must somehow be our responsibility.
We might struggle to say no, feel guilty when we rest or find it difficult to ask for what we need.
Sometimes the response happens before we've had time to think about it. We automatically apologise, explain ourselves, try to fix something or get busy.
I recognise this in myself. Even when I can logically see that I haven't done anything wrong, there can still be that initial feeling or instinctive reaction. And I think that's an important distinction. Understanding something intellectually doesn't always mean our emotional responses immediately catch up.
This doesn't mean there is something wrong with us. It may mean we've become accustomed to responding to the world in a particular way, and that response has become familiar.
The interesting question is whether we still need to respond in the same way now.
What does this have to do with your body?
These patterns aren't necessarily experienced as thoughts alone. Stress and emotional responses involve the body as well as the mind.
When we anticipate difficulty or feel under pressure, our body can become more alert. We might notice tension in the jaw and shoulders, a feeling of tightness in the chest, a quicker heartbeat or changes in our breathing.
Breathing is closely connected to the systems involved in regulating our cardiovascular activity and responding to stress. It can change with our emotional state, often without us consciously noticing.
For example, when we're rushing, concentrating or feeling under pressure, our breathing may become quicker, more shallow or more effortful. We may sigh frequently or feel the need to take bigger breaths.
Over time, it can be useful to become more aware of these everyday patterns, rather than only thinking about how we feel.
This is one reason I place so much emphasis on functional breathing. It isn't about taking bigger breaths or constantly trying to control your breathing. It's about understanding how you breathe throughout the day and developing a quieter, more comfortable and efficient breathing pattern.
How can breathwork help?
Breathwork offers us an opportunity to become more aware of what is happening in our bodies, as well as giving us a practical way to work with our breathing.
There is growing research into the effects of regulated breathing practices. Studies have found that breathwork can help reduce self-reported stress and anxiety, although the research varies in quality and the results are not the same for every technique or every person.
Slower, paced breathing has also been studied for its effects on the relationship between breathing, heart rate and blood pressure. At around five to six breaths per minute, breathing can influence these natural cardiovascular rhythms. This is one reason that comfortable, slower breathing is often explored as part of stress-management practices.
But I think there is another important part of the work.
When we begin paying attention to our breath, we also begin noticing what is happening inside us. We might recognise that we're holding tension, rushing our breathing or finding it difficult to pause.
Rather than automatically reacting, we have an opportunity to notice what is happening and create a little space before deciding what to do next.
That doesn't mean a breathing exercise will undo years of learned responses. Nor does it mean we should expect to feel calm every time we practise. But developing awareness of our breathing and having a simple way to work with it can become one part of supporting ourselves differently.
For some people, this starts with functional breathing and gentle paced breathing. Others may choose to explore deeper breathwork in a supported setting. These are different approaches, and more intensive practices are not suitable for everyone.
A little something to notice
The next time you find yourself rushing to do something, apologising unnecessarily or feeling responsible for someone else's mood, see if you can pause for a moment.
You might ask yourself:
Have I actually done something wrong, or am I assuming that I have?
Am I responding to what is happening now, or anticipating what might happen?
Do I feel comfortable sitting still and doing nothing?
What do I notice in my breathing and body when I give myself permission to pause?
You don't need to find an answer straight away. The invitation is simply to become a little more curious about the response.
And perhaps, the next time you sit down on the sofa, you might notice the urge to get up and do something. Before following it automatically, take a moment to ask yourself whether anything needs doing right now.
Sometimes the first step towards responding differently is recognising that we have a choice.
Keep exploring your breath
If you'd like to explore this a little further, I've recorded a short video called “Can't Relax? Try This 2-Minute Breathing Exercise”.
It looks at that familiar feeling of being unable to switch off, even when you have the time and space to do so, and includes a simple paced breathing exercise using a breathing ball. It's a gentle place to start if you'd like to bring a little more awareness to your breathing.
You can watch it here: YOU TUBE
And remember, this isn't about becoming someone who is calm all the time, or never worrying about what other people think. It's about beginning to recognise the patterns that no longer serve you, understanding what's happening in your body and gradually creating more space to choose how you respond.
I'm still learning to recognise these moments in myself, too. Perhaps that's part of why I feel so strongly about this work. We don't have to get everything right, or reach a point where old patterns never appear. We can keep noticing, learning and finding a different way to respond, one moment at a time.
Mel x
P.S. Change your breath, Change your life.
A note on breathwork
This article is for general education and wellbeing purposes and is not intended to diagnose, treat or cure any medical or mental health condition. Breathwork experiences vary, and active or intensive breathing practices are not suitable for everyone. If you have concerns about whether a particular practice is appropriate for you, please seek advice from a suitably qualified healthcare professional.