My boyfriend of a year used to fly into rages. He and his ex had huge, ugly screaming fights. He now uses "mental tricks" to stay calmer. Obviously, rage is a bad thing, but it's also a passionate thing. Is it crazy to worry that he doesn't care enough about me to get really angry?

--Fretting

When the cops come to the door, it usually isn't to say, "Your neighbors called and said they heard you loving each other really loudly."

Rage isn't a sign of love; it's a sign of bad emotion management. Research by doctor and behavioral neuroscientist Emil Coccaro finds that people who are prone to angry outbursts -- responding to every slight like somebody just nuked Rhode Island -- have exaggerated activity in part of the brain called the amygdala. This is a set of lima bean-sized structures that basically work as a security guard, identifying threats (or potential threats). As neuroscientist Joseph LeDoux explains it, the amygdala makes a "quick and dirty" assessment that danger is afoot -- before rational thought can get involved -- and releases chemical messengers to get us to leap into action, as in, "DO SOMETHING BEFORE YOU DIE!"

But because the amygdala is an evolutionarily ancient structure -- one we share with sheep and hamsters -- it's not all that discerning. In fact, it makes a lot of mistakes. That's because our chances of survival are better if we jump out of our skin at a rustling in the leaves that turns out to be nothing -- rather than being all, "Yeah, that could be a deadly poisonous snake, but I'm not letting it get in the way of a good bong hit." Still, socially, a hypersensitive amygdala can pose problems -- like our going all "Kill Bill" on somebody's ass when they, oh, graze our arm reaching for a coffee lid.

Chances are that what your boyfriend has learned to do through these "mental tricks" is redirect his attention from the amygdala to the newer, thinkier "frontal" parts of the brain. Yes, your brain is about as easily fooled as Aida, my 6-pound Chinese crested. The vet holds out a treat in one hand so Aida won't get hopped up about the other -- which is en route to her butt with the same size thermometer they use on the Great Dane.

Your boyfriend's newfound cool is a sign -- showing that he gets that rage is to problem-solving as a chain saw is to hangnail eradication. Of course, many people realize that they're doing something totally counterproductive -- and remain all pedal to the metal down Stupid Avenue instead of investing the effort your boyfriend did (and does) to respond differently. As for the notion that his not blowing his top means he doesn't care about you...right. Nothing says you've got the lukewarmies for somebody like treating them with love, patience, and respect instead of giving in to your initial impulse to stab them in the neck with a fork.

I'm a woman with a high sex drive. My boyfriend and I live a long plane ride apart. Months can go by between visits. On our first day together, he typically has erectile dysfunction. The next day, everything's good. However, it's hard to not take the first day personally. After we're apart for a while, shouldn't he be raring to go?

--Concerned

A classic car that's been garaged for the winter can also be hard to start, but that probably isn't a sign that you need to lose a few pounds and sex up the undies.

Luckily for the car, it just needs a battery jump, not reassurance from the tow truck driver: "You've still got it, Impala!" For a man, however, first-day-back jitters can easily turn Mr. Happy into Mr. I Dunno What Happened. This occurs because emotions aren't just feeling-flavored thoughts; they have physiological underpinnings. Anxiety is a cousin of fear. The same area in the brain -- the amygdala -- sounds the alarm, chemically messaging your body to prepare it to fight or flee. Your body, in turn, shuts down processes not required for that, like digestion, and diverts blood flow where it's needed most: to your heart and the large muscles (in your arms and legs) that you'd use to hit back or run. (Sadly, the "third leg" does not count as an actual leg.)

The thing is, if your boyfriend doesn't feel pressured to put on a big show, the show might just happen. On your first day together, tell him that you just want to cuddle and reconnect -- and act like you mean it. Your overriding goal should be making him feel comfortable -- though not the way an ER nurse would, by cutting off his jeans while he's asleep with a big pair of surgical scissors.

My girlfriend and I are both struggling artists in our early 20s. We have a lot of fun, and being poor together seems oddly bonding. But I read an article about a study that said that couples with lower credit scores and less money are less likely to stay together than those with money and good credit. Should we be worried?

--Underfunded

Lack of money is the root of many arguments. So, sure, the same couple are likely to be happier if the island they can afford to "winter" on is one in the middle of the South Pacific, as opposed to one in the middle of a four-lane highway.

Still, it's a little premature to gear up for a bitter battle to divide the Top Ramen and takeout "silverware" packets. Before I explain why, in case any readers pay bills out of a coffee can buried in the backyard, your credit score is a numerical ranking (up to 850) that uses your credit repayment history to predict your credit repayment future (like whether you're more likely to pay what you owe or, say, fake your own death).

In the study you're referring to, economist Jane Dokko and her colleagues looked at nearly 16 years' worth of credit scores of 12 million randomly selected U.S. consumers. They found that two people who come into a relationship with high credit scores -- and scores that are relatively similar -- are more likely to stay together.

People who have high credit scores tend to be conscientious sorts with a habit of meeting their obligations. But there are also sociopaths with high credit scores -- perhaps because they have lucrative jobs and plenty of dough to pay the electric bill (and recognize that it's easier to scam people if they don't have to do their plotting by candlelight). Conversely, somebody with a lower score may have been through something catastrophic (a medical bankruptcy as opposed to a moral one).

You might also keep in mind that a study isn't a crystal ball airing the TV show of your future; it's merely a guess of what could happen to you based on how things went for a lot of people. Also, the key thing to note about this particular study is that credit scores are being used as a measure of trustworthiness. And, not surprisingly, a mismatch in a couple's ethical makeup -- specifically, in how trustworthy each partner is -- can prove problematic for the happily-ever-after-ness of their relationship.

However, even if your most recent rejection letter from a credit card company starts "Nice try, butthead" (a refreshing change from their usual "You've gotta be fucking kidding"), all is not bleak. Though research finds that money actually can "buy happiness," social psychologist Elizabeth Dunn explains in a 2011 paper that "it buys less than most people think." In fact, she deems "the correlation between income and happiness" "modest" and "surprisingly weak."

Dunn notes that where we go wrong is in what we think will make us happy -- versus what actually does. One thing we don't anticipate is "adaptation" -- how we quickly get acclimated to things we buy or are given, which means they soon stop giving us the buzz they did at first. And because our big happiness burst is right when we get something (or take the first sip or bite), Dunn writes that "frequent, small pleasures -- double lattes ... and high thread-count socks" -- make us happier than occasional big ones (like new floors, a new car, or a new chin).

And in even better news for you two, Dunn explains that experiences seem to make us happier than things. Because experiences live on in our heads as stories, they don't succumb to adaptation the way objects do. We get renewed enjoyment remembering and talking about them -- in a way we don't by verbally bludgeoning people with the fabulousness of our $5,000 espresso machine-slash-massage chair.

And -- fascinatingly -- bad experiences may lead to more long-term happiness than good ones. By bad experiences, Dunn doesn't mean screaming matches in the middle of the framing store. She's talking about the kind you look back on and laugh about, like breaking down in some terrifying part of town, thanks to how your car is held together by duct tape, tree sap, and hope.

This brings us to what Dunn reports is "our greatest source of happiness" -- other people. And it's here that you've got something over the more moneyed couples. They rarely experience the cooperative creativity and loving dedication that go into even the most mundane activities when you're poor -- like holding the antenna of your Salvation Army TV at a 47.8-degree angle for your boo: "Okay, honey -- there! Don't move! Only 18 more minutes till this episode is over!"

I'm a woman in my 20s, and female friends and I find that, generally speaking, once a guy gets into a relationship, his texting dwindles into brief news bites, like "fell asleep!" or "phone died." Why do men seem to lose interest in chatting by text like I do with my girlfriends? Are men just less feeling than women?

--Annoyed

Who says men aren't emotional? "I don't wanna talk about it!" is an emotion.

But actually, the male brain is not the emotional dead zone many women suspect it to be, with a few tumbleweeds and a Doritos bag blowing through in place of feelings. In fact, neuroscientist Tor Wager reviewed 65 brain imaging studies and found that men's brains aren't any less responsive to emotional stimuli than women's.

However, women do tend to be more emotionally expressive. This difference makes sense, as women evolved to be the caregivers of the species -- tending to the needs of babies (who typically require a more nurturing response than "Bring it, bro!"). Men, on the other hand, evolved to be the warriors of the species -- competing for the alpha dog spot by clubbing a rhino or the most hombres from another tribe. This has had an effect on how men express themselves. As sex differences researcher Joyce Benenson explains, when you're a warrior, revealing your feelings -- like having a good cry on the battlefield -- puts you at a disadvantage. (Kind of like going out in a T-shirt with a big arrow and "Your spear here!")

Conversationally, where men and woman differ is in why they talk and what they talk about. Linguist Deborah Tannen describes male versus female styles of communication as "report" versus "rapport." In short, while women use conversation (including texting) as a form of bonding, for men, it's a tool. And just like other tools, men use it as needed. As my boyfriend put it, "you bring out the wrench when you have a loose nut; you don't go around looking for nuts to fasten. Also, afterward, you put the wrench away; there's no 'Let's us boys get together and explore how we feel about wrenches.'"

This explains why many guys text more in the chase phase, when they need to "talk chick," to a degree, to reel you in. Once they have you, they fall back to what's more natural for them -- texting merely to say stuff like "late!" or "w/get wine" (the SMS form of grunting). But this should simply be seen as a different style of communicating, not a deficient one. You judge whether a man cares about you by the sum of his actions, not by his pointer finger action. And besides, if you demand that he text you like a woman, he's within his rights to expect you to act like a man -- by carrying his luggage like a pack mule while he totters behind you in heels or by chasing a mugger while he stands on the corner crying softly and hoping you'll come out of it alive.

My boyfriend introduces me as his girlfriend to his parents, friends, co-workers, etc. However, he doesn't like to Facebook the intimate details of his life, including our relationship. My friends think it's a red flag that he doesn't post about us on Facebook. Do you think they're right?

--Hidden

Your boyfriend doesn't post what he had for lunch -- and probably not because he's embarrassed to be seen with his sandwich or he's looking to cheat on it with a plate of spaghetti.

Even criminals have the right to remain silent. But that isn't what your boyfriend's trying to do. In fact, he's public about your relationship; he just draws the line at publicizing it on social media -- as in, having a bunch of people he doesn't know know a bunch of things about him. (In economics, this is called "information asymmetry.")

Your friends seem to be confusing privacy with secrecy. Secrecy is about having something to hide -- often something shady you've done -- while privacy is about choosing who gets the scoop on your life. There's this notion that if you aren't doing anything wrong, you've got nothing to hide. Well, you aren't doing anything wrong on the toilet, but you probably don't want to replace your bathroom walls with glass and set up bleachers in the backyard. Apparently, your boyfriend just expects people to put in effort to invade his privacy -- rather than his being all "Welcome to our relationship! The usher will lead you to your seats -- 13A and B, right by the headboard. We look forward to your comments. Even if you're an Internet troll. Even if you're a bot!"

My boyfriend mistakenly sent me a text meant for somebody else -- a real estate agent with my same first name who's showing him apartments. This made me feel like I'm unimportant -- easily confused with just anybody -- and I got really upset. Of course, I know that he was just busy and multitasking. And despite knowing that he really loves me, I blow up like this a lot.

--Overreactor

Assuming your boyfriend isn't 11, "do u have any openings?" isn't a sex question.

Your boyfriend's mix-up was the sleep-eating version of texted communication. You ultimately know that, but no sooner did you get that text than your feelings started hammering on you. It's like they were waiting to do it -- like those people in folding chairs with umbrellas lined up outside some concert ticket venue. Pound! Pound! Pound! "My watch says 10:31! What the eff?!"

Because fear comes up fast and there's all this energy behind it, it's easy to believe it's telling you something you need to hear -- and follow. But it helps to understand what neuroscience has discovered -- that emotions are automatic reactions to something in your environment. They rise up (out of a sea of biochemicals) without your doing a thing. (It's not like you have to nag, "Hey, life-sucking depression, you never visit anymore.") Rational thought, however, takes work. You have to coax it up and give it an assignment, and then (lazy bastard) it right away starts pushing for a nap.

It is possible to pull reason into the mix before your emotions drag your boyfriend off for a beating. This takes preplanning -- and the use, in the moment, of a technique called "cognitive reappraisal," which involves reinterpreting your emotion-driven view of a situation in less emotional terms. Basically, you explore the boring alternatives. Say your boyfriend's slow in texting you back. So...lack of respect (boohoo!) -- or lack of phone, because the dodohead dropped it in the toilet again?

This isn't to say your alternate explanation is correct. But the immediate goal of cognitive reappraisal is not judging the truth, the whole truth, blah, blah, blah. Through your considering alternate possibilities, cognitive neuroscientist Jason Buhle and his colleagues find that you divert the action in your brain from the stress and anxiety department (Freakout Central) to the thinky parts -- like the prefrontal cortex. This allows reason to put on its Coke-bottle glasses and have a closer look at what's really going on. This, in turn, will keep you from contributing to the notion many men have that we women are operating on one flickering bar of rationality. The way they see it, we have our marching orders -- and we get them from outer space, via our hair accessories.

I've been married for seven years, and I'm cheating on my husband. I've heard that if you're cheating, it's because something's missing in your relationship. But my husband is fantastic. I love him. I just long for something new and different. Help.

--Torn

Marriage vows are annoyingly comprehensive. Take that "Forsaking all others..." thing. Do they really mean "allll others"? Even that hot guy in board shorts in Spin class?

There are people who are under the impression that life should be COMPLETELY FUN AND EXCITING AT ALL TIMES. We call them 5-year-olds. The grown-up view acknowledges that the typical day includes a good deal of bummer management and that choices in life require making trade-offs. Marriage, for example, gives you intimacy, security, and tax breaks -- with the downside that the nookie tends to lack the zing of boning some hot stranger in the self-help section at Barnes & Noble.

To understand how unfair you're being to your husband, don't just look at your cheating in sexual terms. You're doing what neuroeconomists and anthropologists call "free-riding" -- sucking up the benefits of a situation while ducking the costs. Meanwhile, if you get cancer and all of your hair falls out and getting to the toilet feels like the third leg of a triathlon, the man carrying you there will for sure be the one you meet for nooners at the motel.

As for what's missing, you have no motivation to heat up your marriage if you're getting your heat on the side. But a relatively new area of research -- embodied cognition -- finds that action drives emotion, meaning that if you keep acting loving and passionate, the feelings are likely to follow. You also jazz things up by being surprising and going a little crazy -- in good ways. As the country song goes, "Sing like you don't need the money ... dance like nobody's watchin'" -- but have extramarital sex like there's a private detective across the street with a lens the size of something NASA puts into space.

When I got remarried, I inherited a stepdaughter. At the time, I was happy about this. Though she and my husband had been estranged for many years, I was instrumental in getting them to reconcile. I've come to regret this. She is a rageaholic, spendaholic party girl. She has three DUIs and an extravagant lifestyle that's financially draining her dad and me. Though I have no problem cutting her off, my husband can't say no to his little girl -- which has us on opposing ends of a bitter battle.

If you had the traditional kind of parasite, you could just put a lit match to its butt.

Welcome to the bottomless hole of wrongheaded empathy -- the daddy guilt version of that "bottomless cup of coffee" that (if you ask politely) the Denny's waitress will keep refilling until you finally die in the booth. Obviously, your husband means well. Unfortunately, he's engaging in what's called "pathological altruism." The primary researcher on this, Dr. Barbara Oakley, explains it as an intention to help that actually ends up doing harm (sometimes to both the do-gooder and the do-goodee).

Enabling can feel so right in the moment, Oakley explains -- in part because we get something out of it: activation of the same regions of the brain that "light up" from drugs and gambling. (Say hello to the "helper's high.") Refusing to "help," on the other hand, is uncomfortable and tends to lead to ugly interactions, like screaming matches if Daddy says no to putting his retirement money into retiring last season's Versace for this season's Vuitton.

Being judiciously helpful takes asking the feel-bad questions, like "What's the likely result of consistently attaching a garden hose to our bank account and washing away any consequences from Princess Partyhardy's actions?" That's a question that should get answered before she gets her fourth DUI -- possibly leading to a need for somebody to pick up not only the cost of the fancy DUI lawyer but the pieces of some cute 5-year-old from along the side of the road.

You can keep telling your husband this until your teeth fall out, but because of his emotional ensnarement -- along with the fear and anger that you'll try to stop him -- he'll probably just fight harder to go along with her little-girl-voiced shakedowns. And though, with your emotional distance, you have a clearer eye on how your step-sponge is playing her dad, there are surely a few rationality-eating emotions bubbling up in you. There's got to be anger (because your money's getting tossed down the drunken-spendy princesshole) and some fear (that you'll end up on a street corner, begging people to drop change into your "World's Greatest Stepmom" mug).

Fear and anger make for the worst argument partners. They trigger the amygdala, a central player in the brain's threat-detection circuit. It, in turn, sounds the alarm, triggering the release of fight-or-flight hormones and shutting down functions not needed to battle or bolt, like -- whoops -- higher reasoning. And more bad news: When you keep repeating a behavior, your brain cells go, "Wait -- we do this all the time; let's put that on auto." And this is what has happened here -- which is to say, you two could be doing permanent damage to your relationship.

Advice columnists tend to squawk like parrots, "Therapy! Therapy!" (Like that option wouldn't otherwise occur to anybody.) However, in your situation -- because you two can't seem to dial down the "bitter battle" -- there is an intermediary you should consider engaging: a mediator. (Look for a marital one at Mediate.com) Mediation is dispute resolution. It's issue-focused, so it's worlds faster than therapy. (The mediator won't take a month to figure out how you really felt when you were 6 and you didn't get that cookie.)

The mediator's job is to dial down the emotional temperature and get you two listening to each other -- to the point where you understand each other's feelings. (This is how you come to empathize with somebody -- which motivates you to act in their interest and not just in your own.) The mediator then guides you to come to a decision as a couple and can help you set up a framework for discussing emotionally charged issues so date night doesn't devolve into hate night.

Still, it's important to recognize that every problem isn't perfectly solvable. What's essential, however, is the "C-word" -- compromise: understanding that you ultimately win by being willing to lose a little. This means accepting that you won't always get the exact outcome you want -- which, in this case, would probably involve picking up a time machine at Best Buy so you could go persuade your stepdaughter's mother to have a purse dog instead of a child.