Your Feelings Don't Have English Words—and That's Okay

You’ve felt it before. That ache that lingers long after someone leaves. That nervous flutter before a trip. That weird blend of joy and sadness that doesn’t fit neatly into conversation. English has roughly 170,000 words in active use, but somehow—when it comes to describing what’s actually happening inside us—the language falls short.

The good news? The rest of the world has figured it out. Portuguese has *saudade*—a deep nostalgic longing for someone or something loved and lost, the kind of ache that lives in you long after the moment passes. Arabic speakers have *tu’burni*, which translates roughly to“I hope I die before you,”not as a morbid wish but as an acknowledgment that life without the beloved would be unbearable. Japanese offers *koi no yokan*, the feeling that you’re destined to fall in love with someone—not love at first sight, but the inevitability of it. Swedish gives us *resfeber*, that nervous excitement right before a journey begins, and German provides *waldeinsamkeit*, the solitude and serenity you feel alone in the forest.

What’s striking isn’t that other languages have words English lacks. It’s that these emotions are universal. Every human on earth has experienced the profound heartbreak described by Portuguese *mágoa*, or the creative fulfillment captured by Greek *meraki*—pouring your soul, passion, and creativity into what you do. We’ve all felt the quiet contemplation of Aboriginal *dadirri*, or the cozy togetherness of Dutch *gezelligheid*. We’ve known the deep perseverance Finnish calls *sisu*, and the spine-tingling power of art that Spanish names *duende*.

The real insight here is that our inner worlds are far more connected than our vocabularies suggest. Chappell Roan said it best:“love is a kaleidoscope.”One of tenderness, ache, inevitability, and memory. That complexity exists in every human heart—we just don’t always have words for it. The next time you feel something too layered or contradictory to explain, take comfort: somewhere in the world, another culture has already named it. Someone else has felt it too. And maybe that shared emotional language is what we need to remember most.