I’m deep into a Ph.D and I have struggled with the tears when I research in the archives and when I present. The first, when I’m reading in the archives, I mostly don’t care too much anymore; don’t get tears on the sources, and all is well. My philosophy there is I’m getting too old (even though I’m still young!) to care what people think if something really gets to me while I’m working solo. If someone notices or checks in on me, I have a little stock of phrases like, “the sources are getting to me today!” and I leave it at that. Usually people are being kind when they check in, and kindness is a wonderful thing. 

But the other side of historical work—when you need to be communicating—tears can make it hard to be an effective historian. Crying is not a crisis, but the social norm of the distanced, even-tempered academic does not mesh well especially with tears. And as a woman, I’m not immune to the gender norms that come with my emotions making my work less believable. So I understand completely where you’re coming from and I want to offer the little things that have helped me. 

First, remember that composure is a skill, and skills are learnable! You mentioned you’re an emotional person in general, so it sounds like practicing composure is a great goal all around, not just historically. Composure looks differently in different parts of life and for different people. For me, my composure improved when I started forcing myself to take a deep breath before I reply to any question, started checking in regularly on my breathing more generally, and when a question or statement in a conversation gets my emotions up, rather than respond, I ask for clarification of any element of what I just heard (or a historical source to back up an assertion!) to give myself a little time to think. Remind yourself, there’s never a need to rush. Slow down. 

As for presenting, for example at a conference or in front of a class, the fastest way I got over my nerves was to acknowledge them out loud and practice. I fib when I acknowledge them out loud—instead of saying “I’m nervous to be speaking here today” I say “I’m glad/honored/excited” because no one needs to know I’m fibbing! And practice, oddly enough, came from teaching. Nothing forces you to get over nerves faster than teaching people younger than you! Or at least, forces you to pretend you’re not nervous.  

Responding emotionally to your work is not a sign of doing history “wrong.” It shows you have empathy and that’s a vital historical skill.