Confusion between thoughts and feelings

Feelings or Thoughts: Navigating the Emotional Fog. Imagine a world where every idea, opinion, or judgment is cloaked in the language of emotion. Increasingly, we hear people say, “I feel that…” when they really mean, “I think that…” This phenomenon, known as sentismo, is on the rise, subtly shifting the way we communicate and understand ourselves and each other. Sentimentality blurs the line between thought and feeling, granting emotions the authority of undeniable truths and sidelining the critical, reflective nature of thinking. Originally, this trend came from a good place: it was an attempt to reclaim the value of feelings in domains where they had long been ignored, from politics and education to work and activism. It was about acknowledging the depth of human experience and the importance of emotional well-being. And indeed, feelings are vital—they color our lives, give meaning to our interactions, and bring awareness to discomforts that might otherwise be dismissed. But when we start confusing our thoughts for feelings, something significant happens. Language reveals this shift. Expressions like “I feel that the group doesn't value me” or “I feel this movie is bad” present judgments or beliefs as emotional facts. When we code a thought as a feeling, we stop checking it against reality or inviting others to challenge it. A statement like “I feel inferior” becomes immune to discussion—not because it's true, but because it's rooted in emotional experience, not logical examination. Unlike thoughts, which can be debated and refined, feelings are accepted as inherently valid. This way, we may hold onto mistaken beliefs for years, simply because they are felt. This emotional framing can make us less able to communicate, less open to others, and more isolated in our own subjective truths. It undermines our collective intelligence, our ability to test ideas together and build shared understanding. In conversation, “I feel that this meeting was a waste of time” instantly closes the door to discussion; the feeling is self-validating, and any attempt to question it is met with, “well, that's just how I feel.” Neurologically, thoughts require more connections, more complexity, more engagement of our intellect. When we mistake a thought for a feeling, we process it with less mental rigor. A thought can be a hypothesis, a question, or a conclusion, inviting exploration and growth. A feeling, by its very nature, resists this scrutiny. “I feel like an imposter”—rather than asking whether this is true, we take it as an emotional given, and so it lingers, unchallenged. Sentismo also draws us inward, making us more self-focused, less empathetic, and less able to see the world from another's perspective. True empathy and understanding require thought—imagining ourselves in someone else's place, considering their experiences, reflecting on how our actions affect them. This is the realm of the intellect, not just the heart. While emotional education has encouraged us to name and express our feelings, it often neglects the equally crucial skill of identifying our thoughts, and distinguishing them from emotions. Knowing how our thinking shapes what we feel is essential for understanding ourselves and interacting wisely with others. Humans live in a constant dialogue between emotion and reason, between the raw impulses of the limbic system and the reflective powers of the neocortex. When we let feelings dominate, we lose some of our freedom to choose, to act, to reflect, and to solve conflicts. Reclaiming the space for thought, without denying the value of feeling, opens the way for richer, more intelligent relationships—with ourselves and with the world.