Out of the blue, my boyfriend of two years broke up with me. Not long afterward, I saw pix on Facebook of him with some other girl. It's been two months since our breakup, and he wants to reconcile, so whatever he got into obviously tanked. We were planning on moving in together in the spring. (Maybe he got cold feet?) I still love him, but I'm worried. Did he just break up with me to be with this girl? How do I know this won't happen again?
--Fighting Uncertainty
We crave certainty, and we get freaked out by uncertainty. If we weren't like this, there would be no horror movies, because somebody would say, "Whoa...I hear this weird, unearthly growling in the basement," and their friend would say, "Yeah, whatever" and keep playing chess, and the monster would cry itself to sleep off camera.
Interestingly, there are some lessons for dealing with potential romantic horror from actual horror fare. Evolutionary researcher Mathias Clasen, author of "Why Horror Seduces," believes that one reason we appreciate horror movies is that they allow us to have an intense scary experience under safe circumstances -- basically acting as a sort of mental training to help us protect ourselves in dire situations. For example, from a list of horror movie survival tips at the website Slasher Mania: "As a general rule, don't solve puzzles that open portals to Hell."
Because horror movies are "evolutionarily novel" -- meaning they didn't exist in the ancestral environment that shaped the psychology still driving us today -- our brains tend to respond to fictional slasher/zombie/demon stuff as if it were real. So, upon entering a tall building, I occasionally flash on a helpful life lesson I picked up from "The Shining": If the elevator opens and a flood of blood comes out, take the stairs.
Research by Clasen and his colleagues (presented at a 2017 academic conference I attended, but not yet published) appears to give preliminary support to his horror-movies-as-life-prep hypothesis. There is also published research showing benefits from what I'd call "preparative worrying." For example, social psychologist Kate Sweeny found that law students who worried more about taking their bar exam felt much better about their results -- whether they passed or tanked the thing -- compared with those who didn't fret or didn't fret much.
Sweeny notes that findings from her research and others' support two benefits of worry. Worry amps up motivation -- spotlighting "the importance of taking action" to head off some undesirable outcome. Worry also leads people "to engage in proactive coping efforts" -- providing an emotional airbag should things go badly.
As for your situation, sadly, Apple and Amazon have been remiss in giving Siri and Alexa a crystal ball feature, so there's no way to know for sure whether this guy would just end up bouncing again. But there is a helpful way to "worry" about a possible future with him, and it's to do it like a scientist, estimating "probabilities" -- what seems likely to happen based on prior experience and information.
To do that, ask yourself some questions: Is he generally a person who feels an obligation to be careful with other people's feelings? How in touch is he with his own? Is he easily bored and does he have a big lust for novelty and excitement (called being "high in sensation-seeking" by psychologists)?
Next, factor in your own temperament -- how emotionally fragile or resilient you are. Practically speaking, the question to ask yourself: "If he left again, how crushing would that be for me?" However, in answering that, it's important to get specific about the actual worst-case scenario; for example: "I'd spend four months deforesting the Pacific Northwest by binge-weeping into Kleenex." This might be a price you're willing to pay for a shot at being with the man you love, especially if you hate trees.
Ultimately, as psychologist Gerd Gigerenzer, who studies decision-making, writes: "Understand that there is no certainty and no zero-risk, but only risks that are more or less acceptable." If you conclude that you can accept the potential downsides of trying again with him, consider that his aborted jaunt off into Otherwomanland may have been a good thing. Sometimes it takes a wrong turn to point us in the right direction. Or, putting that another way, perhaps through your boyfriend's going for what he thought he wanted, he figured out what he really wants.
To avoid being resentful over this little detour of his, maybe use the experience as a reminder to appreciate what you have as long as you have it. As we've seen, there are no guarantees in life -- not even that the government has safeguards on the missile strike warning system stronger than your grandma's AOL password. (Hi, Hawaii -- glad you're still with us!)
I got dumped four months ago, and I'm still not sure what happened. All of my boyfriend's explanations seemed vague, and the breakup really came out of nowhere. I don't want to contact him. How do I sort this out so I can move on?
--Desperately Seeking Closure
Science has yet to figure out a number of life's mysteries -- questions like: "What came before the big bang?" "Why is there more matter than antimatter?" and "If we're such an advanced civilization, what's with short-sleeved leather jackets?"
Freak breakups -- unexpected, inexplicable endings to relationships -- are really tough because our mind doesn't do well with unfinished business. It ends up bugging us to get "closure" -- and by "bugging," I mean like some maniacal game show host in hell, shouting at us for all eternity, "Answer the question! Answer the question!"
This psychological spin cycle we go into is called "the Zeigarnik effect," after Russian psychologist and psychiatrist Bluma Zeigarnik. In the 1920s, Zeigarnik observed that waiters at a busy Vienna restaurant were pretty remarkable at remembering food orders they had taken but had yet to deliver. However, once they'd brought the food to the patrons, they had little memory of what the orders were.
Zeigarnik's research (and subsequent modern research) suggests that the mind remains in a "state of tension" until we complete whatever we've left incomplete -- finishing the task we've started or finally answering some nagging question.
This might seem like bad news for you, considering the mystery you've got on your hands. However, you can make use of psychologist Daniel Kahneman's research. He explains that our brains are "expensive" to run; basically, it takes a ton of energy to keep the lights on up there. So our mind is programmed to take mental shortcuts whenever it can -- believing stuff that has even a veneer of plausibility.
As for how this plays out, essentially, your mind assumes that you're smart -- that you don't believe things for no reason. The upshot of this for you is that you can probably just decide on a story -- your best guess for why your now-ex-boyfriend bolted -- and write yourself an ending that gets you off the mental hamster wheel.
Should any of those old intrusive thoughts drop by for a visit, review the ending you've written, and then distract yourself until they go away -- like by reciting the ABCs backward or by pondering the mysteries of human existence, such as vajazzling (gluing Swarovski crystals to one's labia and thereabouts). No, ladies, your vagina will not be more fun if it's wearing earrings.
I'm a woman in my early 40s, married for 12 years. I gave up my career as a dancer to be a mom. I can afford not to work, as my husband makes great money. However, my kids are now 12 and 13 and don't need me like they did when they were little. I feel as if I don't have any purpose in my life, and it's getting me down. I can't go back to dancing now. What do I do?
--At Loose Ends
Sure, your kids still need you, but mainly to drive them places and then (ideally) be kidnapped by Mexican drug cartel members, only to be miraculously released just when they need a ride home.
In fact, in these modern times, it can feel like much of your job as a mother could be done by a stern-voiced Uber driver. This is a problem. As social psychologist Todd Kashdan explains, "Years of research on the psychology of well-being have demonstrated that often human beings are happiest when they are engaged in" activities that bring meaning to their lives.
As I explain in "Good Manners for Nice People Who Sometimes Say F*ck," living meaningfully means being bigger than just yourself. It means making a difference -- making the world a better place because you were here. You do that by, for example, easing people's suffering -- and you don't have to be a hospice nurse to do that.
You can do as my wonderfully cranky Venice neighbor @MrsAbbotKinney does as an adult literacy volunteer -- teach people how to read. I always get a little misty-eyed when I see her tweets about taking one of the people she's tutored to apply for their first library card.
Because doing kind acts for others appears to boost general life satisfaction, doing volunteer work should lead you to feel more fulfilled. This is especially important in a world where daily hardships involve things like struggling to remember your new PIN to get milk delivered from the online supermarket -- as opposed to trekking through a snowstorm to the freezing-cold barn so you can get friendly with the down-there on a bitchy cow.
My husband and I have been married for eight years. We have a 5-year-old son, and we both work full time. We used to have these amazing crazy sex marathons, but now we're too tired from our jobs and parenthood. We have sex about once a month, if that. I'm worried that this isn't healthy for our marriage.
--Sex Famine
The good news: You two are still like animals in bed. The bad news: They're the sort on the road that have been flattened by speeding cars.
This is something to try to change, because sex seems to be a kind of gym for a healthy relationship. Clinical psychologist Anik Debrot and her colleagues note that beyond how sex "promotes a stronger and more positive connection" between partners, there's "strong support" in the research literature for a link between "an active and satisfying sexual life and individual well-being."
Of course, it's possible that individuals who are happy get it on more often than those who hate their lives and each other. Also, rather obviously, having an orgasm tends to be more day-brightening than, say, having a flat tire.
However, when Debrot and her colleagues surveyed couples to narrow down what makes these people having regular sex happier, their results suggested it wasn't "merely due to pleasure experienced during sex itself." It seems it was the affection and loving touch (cuddlywuddlies) in bed that led couples to report increased "positive emotions and well-being" -- and not just right afterward but for hours afterward and even into the next day.
The researchers found a longer-lasting effect, too: In a survey of 106 couples (all parents with at least one child younger than 8), the more these partners had sex over a 10-day period the greater their relationship satisfaction six months down the road. (The researchers did report a caveat: For the bump in relationship satisfaction, the sex had to be "affectionate" -- as opposed to, I guess, angry sex, breakup sex, or "You don't mind if I tweet while we're doing it?" sex.)
My prescription for you? Have sex once a week -- a frequency that research by social psychologist Amy Muise finds, for couples, is associated with greater happiness. Make time for it, the way you would if your kid needed to go to the dentist. Also, go easy on yourselves. Consider that some sex is better than, well, "sex marathon or nuthin!"
And then, seeing as affection and loving touch -- not sexual pleasure -- led to the improved mood in individuals and increased relationship satisfaction in couples, basically be handsy and cuddly with each other in daily life. Act loving and you should find yourself feeling loving -- instead of, say, feeling the urge to sound off to strangers in checkout lanes that the last time anyone took an interest in your ladyparts, your health insurance company sent you a bill for the copay.
My boyfriend broke up with me last month. We still talk and text almost every day. We're still connected on social media. We've even had dinner twice. I feel better that he's still in my life, even just as a friend, though we don't work as a couple. Is this healthy, or am I prolonging some sort of grief I'm going to have to feel down the road?
--Clinging
Your approach to a breakup is like having your dog die and then, instead of burying it, having it taxidermied and taking it out for "walks" in a little red wagon.
Note the helpful key word -- "break" -- in breakup. It suggests that when someone tells you "It's over!" the thing you say isn't "Okey-dokey! See you tomorrow for lunch!" As painful as it is to stare into a boyfriend-shaped void in your life, continued contact is the land of false hopes -- fooling you into thinking that nothing's really changed (save for your relationship status on Facebook).
In fact, research by social psychologist David Sbarra finds that contact offline after a breakup amps up feelings of both love and sadness, stalling the healing process. Staying in touch online -- or just snooping on your ex's social media doings -- appears to be even worse. For example, social psychologist Tara Marshall found that "engaging in surveillance of the ex-partner's Facebook page inhibited postbreakup adjustment and growth above and beyond offline contact."
This makes sense -- as your brain needs to be retrained to stop pointing you toward your now-ex-boyfriend whenever you need love, attention, or comforting. Tell your ex you need a real break, and stick to it. Block him on social media. Drawbridge up. No contact of any kind -- no matter how much you long to hear, "Hey, whatcha up to tonight? How 'bout I come over and slow down your healing process?"
I'm a 30-something woman, tall and thin, whom friends describe as beautiful. Perhaps for this reason, I'm often confronted with rude social assaults by people who assume things are handed to me on a silver platter. I am financially independent and have a full-time job and own a home and car. I dress and act modestly. Yet, I'm repeatedly insulted by people who suggest I got my job and other benefits because of my looks. What can I do to avoid or deflect these demeaning insinuations?
--Not Just Skin Deep
Inner beauty, unfortunately, only turns heads of people with X-ray vision: "Excuse me, miss, but has anyone ever told you that you have a very pretty appendix?"
Sadly, complaints about the difficulty of being eye candy in a world of eye kale tend not to engender much sympathy, and researchers haven't helped matters. There's a considerable pile of research that has found a "beauty premium" (especially for women) -- a bias toward hiring and promoting the hotties of the workforce -- and, depressingly, an "ugliness penalty" holding back the more Shrekalicious among us.
But it turns out that the methodology behind this slew of findings -- and the conclusion that simply having cheerleader good looks acts as a sort of express elevator for your career -- was a bit overly broad. According to a 2017 paper by evolutionary psychologist Satoshi Kanazawa and sociologist Mary Still, once you drill down into the details -- control for health, intelligence, and personality characteristics (along with some other individual differences) -- you see a more nuanced result: "It appears that more beautiful workers earn more, not because they are beautiful, but because they are healthier, more intelligent," and have more desirable personality traits: more conscientiousness and extroversion and less neuroticism.
Sure, this probably sounds absurd -- this association of good looks with intelligence, a winning personality, and good health. However, take that last one. It turns out that beauty is more than nice human scenery; it's also advertising for what's on the inside. For example, consider the preference across cultures for faces with "bilateral symmetry."
"Facial bilateral symmetry" is anthropologist-ese for both sides of a person's face being a strong match -- meaning, for example, that one eyelid isn't a little droopier than the other. Facial or bodily asymmetry is an indicator of the presence of parasites or disease, and we evolved to be drawn to healthy people -- though we just think, "What a pretty face!" not "There's someone who isn't a foster home for tapeworms!"
I don't want to go too far into the weeds on why outer beauty might reflect good stuff on the inside. However, for one more example, Kanazawa and Still speculate about the personality benefit associated with being pretty (referencing evolutionary psychologist Aaron Lukaszewski's research): "Because physically attractive children are more likely to experience positive feedback from interpersonal interactions," they're more likely to develop an extroverted personality than less physically attractive children.
Getting back to you, just as previous research on "the beauty premium" failed to zoom in on the details, there's a good chance you're seeing your problem a little too broadly -- seeing "people" engaging in the "rude social assaults." Research on sex differences in competition by psychologist Joyce Benenson suggests it's probably women who are doing most or all of the sneering.
Men -- from childhood on -- tend to be comfortable with hierarchy and openly duking it out for top spots in a way women are not. Women tend to engage in covert aggression -- like with frosty treatment and undermining remarks -- in hopes of making another woman dim her own shine and voluntarily relocate lower down the ladder.
The best way to combat such sniping in the moment is to go placid pokerface, treating their comments like lint to brush off. (There's little satisfaction in verbally battering somebody who doesn't appear to care.)
In the long run, however, your best bet is being somebody who's hard to hate. Research by behavioral economist Ernst Fehr suggests it's in our self-interest to be altruistic -- to engage in behavior that's somewhat costly to us (in, say, time or energy) in order to benefit other people. This means, for example, developing a reputation as someone who's always looking out for your colleagues' interests -- like by tipping off co-workers about opportunities and publicly cheering colleagues' achievements.
Finally, if I'm right that women are your main detractors, consider Benenson's observation that women show each other they aren't a threat through sharing vulnerabilities -- revealing weaknesses and problems. Ideally, of course, these should be difficulties along the lines of "Sorry I'm late. My car's a useless piece of tin" and not "Sorry I'm late. ANOTHER guy drove into a pole looking at me, and I had to wait with him for the ambulance."