Mark: The two most useless pieces of advice you'll ever get? 'Just be positive' and 'Don't be angry.' Today, we're exploring a book that argues those 'bad' feelings might actually be your greatest superpowers. Michelle: Oh, I love that. Because 'just be positive' is the emotional equivalent of putting a smiley-face sticker on a car that's on fire. It doesn't help, and it feels incredibly dismissive. Mark: Exactly. And the book that’s giving us permission to feel it all is Big Feelings: How to Be Okay When Things Are Not Okay by Liz Fosslien and Mollie West Duffy. What’s fascinating is that these authors are not just writers; they're seasoned experts in workplace culture and emotions, with backgrounds at places like IDEO and Humu. Michelle: So they’re used to dealing with emotions in places where you’re told not to have them, like the office. Mark: Precisely. And they wrote this book during the height of the pandemic, drawing from their own very real struggles with burnout, chronic pain, and loss. It’s not abstract theory; it’s wisdom earned in the trenches. And it's all brought to life with these incredibly witty and insightful illustrations by Liz Fosslien herself. Michelle: I’ve seen those online! They’re brilliant. They can capture a complex feeling in a single, simple drawing. Okay, so if we’re throwing out 'just be positive,' where do we start? Let's tackle the feeling that I think has defined the last few years for everyone: uncertainty. It feels like a constant, low-grade hum of anxiety. What do we do with that?

Mark: Well, the book's first big, counterintuitive idea is that we have it all backward. We think uncertainty is the problem, so we desperately try to find certainty to make the anxiety go away. But Fosslien and Duffy argue that the real source of our misery is the frantic, impossible search for certainty itself. Michelle: Hold on. So you’re saying the problem isn't the fog, it's that we're running around in the fog, bumping into trees, trying to find the edge? Mark: That’s a perfect analogy. The book suggests that the first step is to just stop running. To learn how to sit with the discomfort of not knowing. And one of the authors, Liz, went through an experience that illustrates this in the most visceral way possible. Michelle: I’m listening. A personal story always hits harder than a theory. Mark: So, a while back, Liz started getting these debilitating headaches. Not just a normal headache, but intense, blinding pain. She went to doctor after doctor—neurologists, ENTs, ophthalmologists. They ran every test imaginable. Michelle: Oh, the medical mystery tour. That is a special kind of hell. The uncertainty there is just suffocating. Mark: Absolutely. And everyone gave her the same well-meaning but useless advice: "Don't worry until you have something to worry about." Meanwhile, she's in agony. They put her on a medication called Topamax, which helped the headaches but came with horrific side effects. It led to a full-blown panic attack on the L train in Chicago. She described feeling trapped, her heart pounding, convinced she was dying. Michelle: Wow, a panic attack on a crowded train. That’s terrifying. The feeling of being out of control in a place you can't escape from... that’s the peak of anxiety. Mark: It was her breaking point. After that, she decided to stop the medication, which led to another medical emergency. She ended up in the hospital. She was at rock bottom, with no answers and no clear path forward. The uncertainty wasn't just a concept; it was her entire reality. Michelle: Okay, so this is where most people would either despair or double down on finding a miracle cure. What did she do? Mark: This is the crucial part. She stopped searching for the one big answer. Instead, she started focusing on what she could actually control. She created a system. She tracked everything: her schedule, her moods, her diet. She cut out alcohol and chocolate. She made sure she got a full night's sleep. She did acupuncture and moderate exercise. She built a routine, a small island of predictability in a sea of uncertainty. Michelle: So she didn't find the 'why,' she just built a 'how.' How to live with the not-knowing. Mark: Exactly. She never got a definitive diagnosis. But by focusing on her 'withins'—the things within her control—she managed the migraines and, just as importantly, the anxiety that came with them. She regained a sense of agency, not by conquering the uncertainty, but by learning to navigate within it. Michelle: That’s such a powerful reframe. It reminds me of that story in the book about Susan, the woman in Manhattan during the pandemic. Mark: Yes! A perfect, bite-sized example of the same principle. Susan was crippled with anxiety about the state of the world—the pandemic, politics, all of it. Her husband sat her down and they made two columns: 'Withins' and 'Beyonds.' Michelle: The pandemic and politics went straight into the 'Beyonds' column, right? Out of her direct control. Mark: Correct. But where they lived? That was a 'within.' They realized they could change their environment. So they made the radical decision to move to Toronto to be closer to her family. They took action on the one major thing they could control, and it gave them a path forward. Michelle: I love that. It’s so practical. It’s not about pretending the 'beyonds' don't exist, but about refusing to let them paralyze you. You find your small circle of influence and you act there. That makes so much more sense than just telling someone to 'cheer up.' Mark: It’s about trading helplessness for action, no matter how small. Michelle: Okay, that strategy of separating withins from beyonds feels like a game-changer for a passive, overwhelming feeling like anxiety. But what about an active, explosive feeling? What about anger? The standard advice is always to suppress it, to 'calm down,' especially for women.

Mark: And that’s another piece of cultural programming the book wants to dismantle. The authors argue that anger is not a 'bad' emotion. It's a vital one. They quote the grief expert David Kessler, who says, "Anger is pain's bodyguard." Michelle: Pain's bodyguard. I like that. It’s a protective force. It shows up when a boundary has been crossed or something you value is threatened. Mark: Precisely. Anger is data. It’s a signal that something is wrong. And if you just suppress it, you’re ignoring a critical warning light on your emotional dashboard. That suppressed anger doesn't just vanish; it curdles into resentment or depression. Michelle: Oh, I’ve been there. That slow-burn resentment is so much more toxic than a flash of honest anger. So how do we use this data constructively? Mark: Let's go back to Liz, because she has another fantastic story about this. It was when she was planning her wedding. She and her fiancé, Maxim, had a very modern, egalitarian relationship. They shared chores, supported each other's careers—everything was 50/50. Michelle: Sounds like a healthy foundation. Where does the anger come in? Mark: It came from the outside world. As soon as they got engaged, people started making all these assumptions. Acquaintances would say things like, "You're so lucky you convinced him!" or give her unsolicited advice about C-sections. Everyone just assumed she would change her name and that her career would take a backseat. Michelle: Ugh. The wave of unsolicited, gendered expectations. I know it well. It’s like society tries to shrink you into a pre-approved box the moment you say "I do." Mark: That’s exactly how she felt. Her identity, which she had worked so hard to build, was being erased and replaced with the generic role of 'wife.' The worst part was, she started to feel angry at Maxim, even though he wasn't saying any of these things. The anger was misdirected because she didn't know where else to put it. Michelle: That’s the tricky thing about societal pressure. It’s this invisible force. You can't punch society in the face. So what did she do with that anger? You can't just yell at your great-aunt for asking about babies for the tenth time. Mark: She almost let it fester, but then she had a breakthrough. She realized her anger wasn't about Maxim; it was about her values being violated. Her independence, her identity—those were the things under attack. So she and Maxim sat down and, instead of fighting, they got strategic. They created a Google Doc. Michelle: A Google Doc to solve marital rage? That is the most millennial, and frankly brilliant, thing I have ever heard. Mark: It was called "Pieces of ourselves we love and don’t want to lose (+ action items)." They identified the triggers—the baby questions, the name-change assumptions. And they made a plan. Maxim would be the one to field all baby-related questions. They explicitly reaffirmed their commitment to their careers. Liz decided to keep her name as a clear symbol of her identity. Michelle: Wow. They didn't suppress the anger; they interrogated it. They asked, "What are you here to protect?" And then they built a fortress around that thing. Mark: They channeled the energy of the anger into a constructive, boundary-setting exercise. It actually strengthened their relationship because it forced them to articulate their shared values. The anger became a tool for connection, not division. Michelle: And it highlights the bias the book talks about, with the Serena Williams and Novak Djokovic example. An angry man is seen as passionate, but an angry woman is often dismissed as hysterical or a 'sore loser.' Liz owning her anger and using it strategically is a quiet rebellion against that. Mark: It’s a perfect example of what the authors call 'anger competence.' Not just feeling anger, but knowing what to do with it. It’s about acknowledging the violation and then asking, "Okay, what's the most effective way to address this?"

Michelle: So whether it's the helplessness of uncertainty or the fire of anger, the core message here seems to be the same. The answer isn't to ignore the feeling or to just 'think positive.' It's to get curious. To get granular, figure out what the emotion is telling you, and then focus your energy on the one small thing you can actually change. Mark: That’s the heart of it. The power of Big Feelings is that it gives you permission to feel everything, but it doesn't leave you there. It gives you a blueprint for action. It moves you from being a victim of your emotions to being a student of them. Michelle: It’s about emotional literacy. We spend so much time learning about history or math, but almost no time learning how our own internal systems work. This book feels like a much-needed user's manual for the human heart. Mark: It really does. And if there's one practical thing listeners can take away from our chat today, I think it's this: the next time you feel that spike of a big, difficult emotion—that dread of uncertainty or that hot flash of anger—don't just push it away. Pause for a second and ask yourself one question. Michelle: What’s the question? Mark: "What boundary was just crossed, or what unmet need is screaming for my attention?" Just asking that question shifts you from reacting to responding. It puts you back in the driver's seat. Michelle: That’s a powerful shift. It turns a moment of crisis into a moment of clarity. It’s not easy, but it’s a path forward. Mark: It is. And it leaves us with a final, profound thought to ponder from this book. What if your most difficult feelings aren't obstacles at all? Michelle: What are they then? Mark: What if they're a roadmap? Michelle: A roadmap. I like that. A guide to a more authentic life. Mark: This is Aibrary, signing off.