When Feeling Happy Makes You Guilty
Reclaiming your child's right to joy, even if you learned to hide it.
Did you ever feel confused about what emotion you’re experiencing? You check in with your old familiar feelings: sadness, grief, confusion, anger, fear. But it’s none of them. Then, almost by surprise, you realise it’s happiness you’re feeling.
If you’ve long danced with the twin struggles of neurodiversity, depression and low self-esteem, feeling genuinely happy can come as an unexpected gift. That’s what happened to me recently.
I’ve been on an upward trend for several months now, catalysed by good self-care, therapy, and healthier choices. Still, I didn’t expect the submarine to break the surface of the ocean to see daylight. It’s not that I’ve lived in constant misery—more a flat state of, “ho, hum, another day.” It’s been a minute since the choppy waters of neurodiversity and childhood attachment injury settled long enough to feel this depth of happiness.
Happiness and Guilt
Feeling happy hasn’t been straightforward for me. There’s been psychological baggage tied to happiness that I’m slowly unravelling.
Somewhere in childhood, my happiness became linked with guilt. As a young boy, every time I felt bubbling, effervescent joy, it inadvertently challenged my mother. She was a wonderful mother with her own limitations, simply unable to hold the level of joy I carried.
My joy led to her fear—fear that I might break something, hurt myself, or that things would get out of control. It’s not surprising she would take control and shut down playfulness.
She did this in two ways:
“Take that outside.”
The complete absence of encouragement.
Happiness is an emotion that loves to be shared. But how can you share joy with someone who doesn’t appear to see it, value it, or want it? I remember her anxiously holding her breath as I looked up from my play, seeking her approval. Without her mirroring back my delight, I grew confused. Was I doing something wrong?
The experience repeated:
I got joyful.
My energy expanded.
Mum got controlling.
Her energy contracted.
To my young mind, it became clear: my happiness caused her unhappiness.
Enter guilt.
The Patterns We Inherit
According to this limiting belief, I had to have my happiness somewhere other than where my mum was. It makes me sad to revisit the rift this created, not just with her, but in all the years I lived with this unexamined program.
This isn’t about blaming my mother. She did the best she could, but the impact was real. I’m in the phase of healing where I see this pattern everywhere, knowing there’s more to come. It’s not comfortable.
The biggest impact has shown up in my dating life. I've projected these beliefs onto partners, acted small when I felt big and happy, or left to be happy elsewhere. Guilt kept me from expressing my joy in relationship.
Reflection: Have you noticed yourself shrinking your joy in relationships?
Ouch.
How much hurt have I created for others by not expressing my full happiness? How much hurt have I created by getting scared and controlling their happiness when it expanded?
Noticing these patterns has opened a path for me to welcome joy back into my life without guilt. It’s slow, imperfect, and deeply worth it.
A Practice of Forgiveness
Once I noticed these patterns, I realised I needed a way to work with them, not just observe them. Forgiveness became a daily practice—for myself, for my parents, and for the moments I let guilt silence my happiness.
Each act of self-kindness creates space for more joy to flow.
As part of this practice, I say out loud:
I forgive myself for the times I hid my joy.
I forgive myself for believing my happiness was wrong.
I forgive my mother for not being able to share in my joy.
I forgive myself for all the times I felt or acted guilty when I was really happy.
I continue until my body responds, until a whisper of bedrock truth takes the air out of the room:
“I forgive myself for all the times I’ve felt or acted guilty when I was really happy.”
With each repetition, I feel a softening, a little more room inside me for happiness without guilt.
Reflection: What would it look like for you to forgive yourself for holding back your happiness?
Forgiveness is not a one-time act but an ongoing invitation to reclaim joy without apology. It is allowing me to live in a way that welcomes happiness as my birthright and as a gift I can share with those around me.
Happiness Is Your Birthright (and Your Child’s)
Parenting and partnership offer countless opportunities to notice when you shrink your happiness or try to control another’s joy. Each of these moments can be a doorway to deeper awareness and freedom.
As you allow yourself to welcome happiness without guilt, you are not only healing your past but creating a safer, brighter space for those around you to welcome their joy too.
Reflection: Where in your life do you feel safe to let happiness expand? Where do you still feel the need to shrink it?
Happiness, like joy, is meant to be shared. When we reclaim our birthright to happiness, we help others do the same. This is the quiet, powerful work of healing that changes families, relationships, and the world around us.
If this resonates and you would like support as you explore your relationship with happiness, I offer free 20-minute connection calls for parents and adults on this journey. You can book a time [here]. Let’s welcome joy together.
Thank you for this! I once listened to Brene Brown and she said Happiness is our most difficult emotion to feel. As we immediately feel guilty for it or fear it will be taken, so we do not feel it at all. I feel that too, but it has to change. Did we not come here to be happy and joyful? I wonder where along the generations it was lost…
I resonate with your take on this, Andrew. When communicating with my family or friends who I knew were somehow feasting on bad news it seemed, I would only relate the sad or bad things that happened on my adventures. WHAT was I doing??? I’ve since learned to share my joys and my lightness, being more authentic to who I am. It’s a fine line though, to not seem puffed up and gloating. I’m not allowing myself to be vampired anymore.