Whenever Abraham Lincoln felt the need to give someone a piece of his mind, he would fire off a harsh letter. Putting pen to paper was his way of unloading his fury. A classic example is the scathing note he penned to General George C. Meade, who he blamed for failing to capture Robert E. Lee at Gettysburg.

Lincoln was “distressed immeasurably” by Meade’s failure but Meade never learned of Lincoln’s immeasurable distress. Instead, Lincoln put the note in a drawer with the label “Never sent. Never signed.” He made a habit of writing “hot letters” but never sending them. It was a way for him to deal with his rage but without the carnage that accompanies spewing unprocessed vitriol. As Maria Konnikova wrote, these unsent angry letters served “as a type of emotional catharsis, a way to let it all out without the repercussions of true engagement.”

The Art of the Active Pause

Learning about Lincoln’s habit is a stark reminder of the value of reflecting on rather than reacting to our emotions. Contrary to cultural pressure to express ourselves, sitting on what is bothering us can act as an emotional windshield wiper, clearing the screen and providing a sharper perspective. In the heat of the moment, it is hard to know the difference between what is urgent versus what is important. As one patient said to me, “Everything Everywhere All at Once could be the title of my life.” Finding ways to press pause and override the itch to react is good for us and good for our relationships.

The impulse to lash out can feel like an imperative–especially with popular TikTok therapists reminding us to always “feel your feelings” and to say what we feel. Plus, with a “send” button at our fingertips, there is little friction between putting our feelings in writing and sending our thoughts out into the world. With an actual letter, finding an envelope and address, plus getting a stamp all take time and time can be a godsend.

It never fails to surprise me how much emotions shift over the course of a week, an hour, or even a night. As the old saying goes, “Everything looks better in the morning.” A patient with a standing appointment on Tuesdays afternoons often tells me how something distressing happens soon after our session–an argument with her partner on Tuesday evening or an issue with a coworker on Wednesday morning–and she has an impulse to tell me about it. But by the time our appointment rolls around a week later, the incident no longer occupies center stage. Whatever felt so earthshaking at the time feels like a minor tremor seven days on.

One of the marketing tools of therapy apps is how quickly the therapist responds. Some even offer unlimited 24/7 messaging. Other than in an emergency situation, I am not convinced that having a therapist at one’s fingertips is productive. It deprives the individual of the opportunity to sit on their emotions or even work through the situation on their own. Counter to the questionable advice that masquerades as therapy on social media, waiting it out and not reacting to or listening to one’s feelings is often a better strategy. Not every heated emotional situation is a 5-alarm fire requiring attention or expression or professional intervention. Maybe emotions are getting a little too much airtime in our daily lives. As psychologist Adam Grant pointed out recently on X, feelings are nothing but “emotional signals in the brain.”  It is possible that spending less time thinking about how we’re feeling might help us feel better.

There is evidence that the most effective way to deal with our emotions is to take a step back from them. If composing an email but not pressing the send button proves too tempting, consider some other science-backed strategies that might help you gain some perspective such as pretending to be a fly on the wall, or considering what you would tell a friend in the exact same situation, or imagining how you will feel about whatever is going on six months from now. Like writing a letter but never sending it, these self-distancing techniques invite us to step outside of our immediate experience and whirlwind of swirling emotions.

Speaking of swirling emotions, a favorite strategy of therapists who work a lot with teens is to ask them to vigorously shake up a snow globe and then watch the glitter settle. The analogy is clear–their brain is like a churned up glitter jar–all cloudy and hard to see through–but with time, the glitter will fall to the ground and everything will be clearer.

Maybe Lincoln would have enjoyed a glitter jar too.

Toxic is a word that gets thrown around a lot these days. As a psychiatrist, I hear it frequently during therapy sessions—to describe parents, siblings, neighbors, exes and co-workers.

Once primarily used to describe plants, arrows and chemicals, toxic—which is defined as “poisonous”—only recently started being applied to people. Self-help books and Britney Spears’s hit song certainly contributed to its journey from the literal to the metaphorical. In 2018, Oxford Dictionaries chose it as the word of the year. Social media is full of tips on how to spot a toxic person.

Toxic people are typically characterized as those who drain energy, create stress and who love to criticize. And that’s the problem: There is no room for nuance or context, even though most of us, at times, have been guilty of that exact same behavior. More than a description, labeling someone as toxic becomes a diagnosis of an untreatable condition, an irreversible defect. Once toxic, always toxic.

Inhibits understanding

Creating categories is useful when it helps the brain sort through the vast stimuli of everyday life. Every time we encounter a waist-high object with a flat surface and legs, for example, we can assume it’s some sort of table. This saves time and energy. But the tendency to categorize people can lead to reductionist assessments that inhibit understanding, reduce empathy and crush communication.

Referring to someone as toxic provides an excuse to distance ourselves from them. If they are toxic, we are justified in ignoring, avoiding and disengaging from them. No doubt there are people in this world whose behavior is deeply problematic and harmful such as in cases involving violence and abuse. In those situations, the healthiest response is to cut the person out. What concerns me is how casually “toxic” is used today to refer to anyone with whom we disagree or who falls short of our expectations.

When we divide the world into toxic and nontoxic people, we fall into a cognitive trap known as “all or nothing” thinking. If someone is toxic, there is no point in having a discussion with them. Why bother trying to understand where they are coming from or what might be going on in their life if they are flawed at the core?

Once placed in the toxic box, there is no space for compromise with them or curiosity about them. Rather than thinking, “That’s my exasperating uncle who has some beliefs I completely disagree with but who has some redeeming qualities too,” the go-to reaction is, “I’m done with this person.” In our certainty of their toxicity, we risk losing sight of their humanity.

Don’t stop talking

In my practice, there is a lot of therapy-speak around severing ties with so-called toxic people. Setting boundaries often translates into ceasing communication. But when we stop talking, we rob ourselves of the potential of repair and erase the possibility of a relationship.

A patient once explained to me during an initial evaluation, “The way I see it, people are either with me or against me.” When I responded that her treatment would involve learning to question knee-jerk responses and to resist the impulse to dismiss or judge, she decided I wasn’t the right psychiatrist for her.

“Isn’t it the psychiatrist’s job to be on the same team as the patient?” she asked.

The psychiatrist’s job, I explained, was to encourage a patient to appreciate complexity, to strive for understanding and to discourage the viewing of life through an “us and them” prism.

From the moment we label someone as toxic, though, all subsequent interactions are interpreted through an uncharitable lens and seen as further confirmation that the person is, in fact, toxic. Ambiguous situations become crystal clear. When a co-worker my patient had deemed to be toxic sent a departmentwide email suggesting a different interview process for future employees, my patient became convinced that it was criticism directed at her as she was a relatively new hire. While that was certainly possible, I pointed out that it also was possible that her co-worker had other motivations.

Other explanations

I advise patients to search for information that contradicts their knee-jerk response and to challenge the impulse to label someone as toxic. Are there other explanations for the person’s actions? Is this a blip or a pattern? Abusive behavior is vastly different from someone who says something that is unintentionally offensive. There is evidence that learning to give people the benefit of the doubt not only makes us less quick to judge but can also make us happier.

In one study, three groups were given unpleasant electric shocks administered by a partner. The first group was told that the shock was delivered by accident and outside their partner’s awareness. The second group was told that they were being shocked intentionally, but for no particular reason. The third group was told that they were being shocked because their partner was trying to help them win lottery tickets. Those in this third group reported significantly less pain than those in the other two groups. Simply believing that someone had good intentions and was trying to help them lessened the pain.

Bottom line

While it is naive to believe that everyone’s intentions are noble, it might be worth at least considering the “why” behind the “what.” I have yet to hear anyone refer to their child or pet as toxic. I suspect they get a pass because we believe in their good intentions and that they are more than their missteps.

Have you ever met someone who has actually achieved work-life balance? I haven’t. As Oliver Burkeman wrote in the best-selling book Four Thousand Weeks: Time Management for Mortals:

“Nobody in the history of humanity has ever achieved ‘work-life balance,’ whatever that might be and you certainly won’t get there by copying the ‘six things successful people do before 7 a.m.’”

Rather than striving for optimal time management, he advises us to make peace with the reality that there will never be enough time to do all the things we would like to do. Put simply, he argues, it’s time (pun intended) to give up the fight against time because it’s a lost cause:

“No finite human being has ever won a fight against time. We just get the limited time we get, and the limited control over it that we get. And if you spend your life fighting the truth of this situation, all that happens is that you feel more rushed and overwhelmed and impatient – until one day time decisively wins the fight, as it was always destined to do. (In other words: you die.)”

In a world filled with productivity porn, Burkeman’s perspective is refreshing. Instead of trying in vain to cram more tasks into each day and get more done, perhaps making better use of the limited time that we have is a better strategy.

Here are 7 ways to feel less frazzled:

Be a Reductionist 

Whenever we encounter a problem, we almost always tend to add something. This is known as subtraction neglect. We add meetings to address issues at work, we add homework to improve academic performance, we add apps to boost efficiency, we add products to enhance skin, but rarely consider how the alternative could be transformative. What can you do less of?

Be Wherever Your Feet Are

I heard this excellent advice a few months ago. It’s a wonderful reminder to give your full attention to the moment you are in and to the person you are with.

Be Still 

Press pause regularly. Rather than packing more work into a given day, take some time to reflect on the lessons of the day.

Be Helpful 

A counterintuitive way to feel less pressed for time is to give it away. Volunteering and doing things for others, rather than focusing on ourselves, expands our sense of time and meaning.

Be Selective

Say no to things that don’t align with your values. Guilt and obligation are not reasons to give your time away.

Be Honest

Many people say they wish they could spend more time with their family but end up on their phones whenever they are with them. Quality face time with loved ones is a vital contributor to wellbeing. Nobody on their deathbed ever said, “I wish I had spent more time on social media.”

Be a Sleep Enthusiast

Lack of sleep is a vampire of vitality. Mental and physical energy are a fundamental currency of wellbeing. Quality time is enhanced by quality sleep.

Bottom Line

Let go of striving for that elusive ideal of work-life balance and spend your precious time doing things that matter. Sometimes that will throw you off balance and that’s okay. As  Alain de Botton observed, “Everything worth fighting for unbalances your life.”

It is no wonder that my patient felt drained after spending a weekend with an old friend who was known to be a relentless complainer. Grumbling about what’s bothering you may feel like a good idea but studies show it can do more harm than good—to both the grumbler and the person on the receiving end of the grumbling.  As Arthur Brooks recently highlighted in the Atlantic:

Put simply, when it comes to venting, sharing is not caring. The more we complain, the unhappier the people around us become. Simply hearing another person gripe can negatively impact one’s mood and induce negative emotions. The “complaint contagion effect” was on full display recently when Elmo asked people on X how they were doing.

People unloaded on Elmo. With the exception of Chance the Rapper who responded, “Honestly, I’m in a really good place [right now]” most people did not hold back.  Airing grievances can feel good in the moment but research on social media shows that when people’s complaints express anger, disgust, and sadness, their negativity spreads to those who are exposed to their venting. It is likely that the airing of grievances to Elmo amplified them.

Letting off steam not only backfires, it can actually fuel the fire. Psychology professor Jeffrey Lohr points out the downside of broadcasting our frustrations, “Venting anger is an emotional expression. It’s similar to emotional farting in a closed area. It sounds like a good idea, but it’s dead wrong.”

Research shows that girls who talk extensively about their problems with friends are more likely to become anxious and depressed. Co-ruminating takes an emotional toll, leading to a sense of helplessness and hopelessness.

As Lohr explains, “The problem with venting is that it’s a negative reinforcement process. Anger and hostility are specific emotions and expression of them begets more anger and hostility. What people fail to realize is that the anger would have dissipated had they not vented.”

Here are 5 strategies to help you complain more strategically. Think of them as GasX for Emotional Flatulence:

1. Count to 10 and back again

Anger dissipates more quickly when you focus on your breath.

2. Take a walk

Spending time outdoors helps put anger in perspective. 

3. Pick your battles

Only complain when it serves a purpose. Stick to facts and be clear about what you want. Whatever you do, don’t make complaining your go-to mode of connecting with others.

4. Give it a name

Studies show that putting feelings into words reduces their impact but that doesn’t mean you have to say them out loud. Writing about it in a journal that you don’t share can help you better understand your feelings and feel more in control.

5. Move Forward

If you are complaining to someone about their behavior, rather than dwelling on a past grievance, focus on behavior you would like to see more of in the future. For instance, you could say, “moving forward, I hope we can communicate over the phone rather than sending hostile text messages back and forth.” The person on the receiving end will be less defensive and more motivated to make a change when they see the possibility of a fresh start. 

Bottom Line: If you need to complain, please be solution oriented, not grievance fixated.

The Good Fight

Call me cynical but I worry whenever I hear a couple say, “we never argue.” Tiptoeing around disagreements might feel good in the short term, but in the long run undermines the quality of the relationship. The pressure to have a fairytale romance is more intense than ever thanks to social media. If one were to believe all the gushing posts about people’s significant other, it would be impossible to imagine anything other than a blissful frictionless co-existence. Cue the champagne and roses.

Contrary to what social media leads us to believe, perfect harmony is not the defining characteristic of a high quality relationship. What matters is not being in sync all the time but how you work through times when you are out of sync. As Drs. Ed Tronick and Claudia Gold noted in The Power of Discord, the ups and downs of relationships are the secret to building meaning and trust. Their research found that mismatch—i.e. being out of sync with each other—is to be expected and is the situation over 90 percent of the time. Put simply, there is nothing to worry about if you and your partner aren’t always on the same page. They liken healthy relationships to an imperfect dance:

Apologies to Fred and Ginger, but it’s Jennifer and Patrick we should seek to emulate. Learning how to move through the messiness turns out to be essential for growth and is the building block of an enduring and meaningful relationship.

The stories we tell about ourselves shape the people we become. If we fixate on how we have been wronged, we become wound collectors—stuck in the past and awash in grievances. Focusing on fragility overshadows our capability to overcome adversity. Making an identity out of the bad things that happen to us can result in a preoccupation with victimhood, leaving an individual stuck in a vortex of finger pointing, self-focus, and rumination.

Those with a victim mindset tend to:

1. Constantly seek recognition of their victimhood — They have a perpetual need to have their suffering acknowledged.
2. Have a sense of moral elitism — They perceive themselves as having an immaculate morality and to be morally superior to others.
3. Lack empathy for the pain and suffering of others — They become so preoccupied with their own victimhood that they ignore opportunities to help others.
4. Frequently ruminate about past victimization — They are so preoccupied with the causes and consequences of how they have been wronged that they have little interest in solutions. Moreover, such rumination reduces the motivation for forgiveness and increases the drive to seek revenge.

Focusing on grievances influences the interpretation of everyday interactions. Those with a victim mindset are more likely to be offended in ambiguous situations. For instance, if a colleague doesn’t say hello or a friend doesn’t return a text, they will take it as personally rather than consider other reasons for the offender’s behavior. They are also more likely to think the offenders’ hurtful behavior was intentional. As summarized in a research paper on the topic, “People who have a higher tendency for personal victimhood feel victimized more often, more intensely, and for longer durations than those who have a lower such tendency.”

If a person is in search of offense, they will surely find it. A passing comment, a cryptic expression, even a well-intentioned compliment might be taken the wrong way if one is on the look out for disrespect or a put down.

There are many factors that might contribute to a victim mindset including an anxious attachment style and having experienced real victimization though, developing a victim mindset can develop without past trauma. Victim beliefs can also be learned. Education, social media, and constantly being reminded of grievances can contribute to this line of thinking. For instance, reminding people of a time they were wronged has been shown to promote a victim mindset including entitled and selfish behavior.

I cannot help but wonder if the current emphasis on fragility is undermining people’s sense of agency and perhaps even contributing to the current mental health crisis. When you lack a sense of control, depression and learned helplessness can kick in. The reality is we are all vulnerable but we are also incredibly strong. Instead of seeing ourselves through a lens of fragility, research shows it is healthier to see ourselves as heroes on a journey. A study published in the Journal of Personality and Social Psychology found that when people begin to see their lives as heroic quests, they report less depression and cope better with adversity.

The researchers created a “re-storying” intervention to help participants retell their story as a hero’s journey. They were instructed to identify each of the 7 key elements of the hero’s journey and then to weave them together into a coherent narrative.

Afterwards, participants reported greater wellbeing and more meaning in their lives. They also became more resilient in the face of adversity and saw obstacles as challenges rather than road blocks.

To become the hero of your own story, consider the following questions:

By making people feel like they are heroes on a journey, the re-storying intervention enables them to reframe obstacles as part of their journey towards transformation and triumph. As Lou Ursa, a licensed psychotherapist in California put it, having an eagle eye view versus a snake eye view of our lives puts things in perspective. All too often, we are seeing what is right in front of us rather than the big picture.

Of note, you don’t have to be Wonder Woman to think about your life story this way. Anyone can benefit from reframing their narrative through a lens of strength and transformation. And who knows—maybe you have more in common with Wonder Woman than you think…

Bottom Line: In the same way that focusing on health rather than disease can make us feel better, paying attention to strengths rather than fragility can help us grow. Be the hero of your own story and let agency be your superpower.