Resentment: What It's Telling Us

For a long time, I kept a list in my head of good emotions and bad emotions. Happy, grateful, and calm were on the good side. Sad, angry, and resentful were on the bad side, and my goal was to feel those as little as possible.

Then my therapist told me that emotions are just information, and that each one carries a message. Psychologists have studied this since the 1980s and call it feelings as information. So I started listening, and I've been something of an emotion detective ever since.

One of the first things I noticed was how often resentment showed up. It came up in a lot of areas of my life. So that's where this series starts.

What resentment is

Resentment is the feeling that shows up when something starts to feel unfair, when the score feels off kilter. I've often felt it after I'd been forgiving and understanding with someone, and the same wasn't given back to me.

The word itself tells us something. It comes from the French ressentir, which comes from the Latin sentire, "to feel." It's often translated as "to feel again," and that's how resentment works. We feel it again and again, sometimes long after the moment that started it.

Underneath resentment is a protest: I shouldn't be treated this way. That protest is the message worth listening to.

How to spot it

I start to notice resentment when I'm worn down, overdoing, and overgiving. It shows up when it seems like I'm doing more than my fair share, or when I'm not feeling appreciated.

You might also catch yourself replaying the same conversation in your head, saying "it's fine" when it isn't, or keeping a running tally of who did what.

Where it comes from

In my experience, resentment comes from two places.

When you've been asking and not being heard. You ask for something clearly and kindly, again and again, and it doesn't come, or it comes and goes. Resentment points to a need that has gone unmet for a long time. When that's the case, it makes sense that it's there.

When you're giving what nobody asked for. I'll never forget the day my foreign exchange student turned to me in the car and said, "It seems like you care more about my life than I do." I froze. In that moment, I realized he was right.

I'd been trying hard to get him to care about something because I thought he should. I'd push, wear myself out, and then want him to notice. Without realizing it, I'd made a deal he never agreed to: I'll do this for you, and you'll appreciate me for it. Author Robert Glover calls this a covert contract. When the other person doesn't keep a deal they never knew about, resentment shows up.

Both places have something in common. I'm sacrificing myself in a way that isn't healthy. Either I'm not saying what's true for me, or I am, and it isn't wanted or heard. So I go quiet, or I keep explaining myself in new, better words to someone who doesn't want to understand, or doesn't have the capacity to.

For me, resentment usually means it's time to stop doing so much and start asking.

Why it matters for your relationships

Resentment is often strongest toward the people we're closest to, and it affects both people. It keeps score. It makes it harder to give each other the benefit of the doubt. It pulls us back, and when care is offered, it can be hard to accept. The other person usually feels it too, even when nothing is said.

None of this means your read on the situation was wrong. Resentment is a sign that something in the relationship needs attention, and both people are part of that.

What to do with it

Get curious. When resentment shows up, ask, "What is this telling me?" Sitting with it to learn something is different from stewing in it.

Name the need underneath. Resentment usually points to a need that isn't being met: to be heard, to be helped, to be treated fairly, or to rest.

Ask, "Whose want is this?" If it's mostly yours, decide whether it's worth doing the work yourself. If it is, be honest with yourself that you're doing it because you want it that way. If it isn't, let the other person carry it, and let the consequence land.

Say it clearly, once. "I've been doing most of this, and I'm worn out. I need help." Saying what's true for you gives the relationship a chance to change.

Pause before you say yes. A lot of resentment starts with a yes you didn't mean. Try "Let me think about it and get back to you."

Set a boundary, then keep it. Say what you need and what you'll do if it doesn't happen. A boundary you don't act on can add to the resentment.

Stop re-explaining. If you've said it clearly and it still isn't heard, more explaining usually won't help. Decide what's next: bring it up again later, set a boundary, grieve what isn't going to change, or step back.

Forgive when you're ready. Forgiveness means letting go of the bitterness you've been carrying. Research on forgiveness programs has found they can lower depression and anxiety. It can come after the other steps, not instead of them.

Start with one

This week, notice one moment of resentment. Then ask it two questions: What need of mine isn't being met? And whose want is this?

Whatever you find is information about where you may have been leaving yourself out, and that's something you can use.

This is the first post in a series on what our emotions are telling us. Anger is next.

Resentment connects to three of the five dimensions of self-relationship. Body Connection helps you catch it early, in the tiredness and tension that show up before you've named the feeling. Belief Ownership helps you trace it back. Whenever there's a "should" behind your overgiving, ask what belief is underneath it, who gave it to you, and whether you chose it on purpose. And Self-Trust is what lets you act on what you find.

Want to know where you stand in these three? My free assessment takes about five minutes. It shows your scores in all five dimensions, so you can see which ones are already strong and where you might want to start.

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