My husband has a great body, but since we got married two years ago, he has completely stopped working out. One reason I was initially so attracted to him was that he was in great shape. I go to Pilates four times a week. How do I motivate him to go back to the gym?

--Toned

If your husband's starting to see definition in his legs, it shouldn't be from rolling over and falling asleep on the remote.

As for how to get him back into workout mode, consider what psychologists Edward Deci and Richard M. Ryan have learned in studying motivation. They break it down into two categories -- intrinsic and extrinsic, fancy terms for internal and external. The extrinsic kind is outside pressure to do something -- like nagging from the wife to start going to the gym instead of just driving by the place and waving.

Extrinsic pressure tends to motivate defiance rather than compliance -- which is to say it's remarkably effective at bringing out the "terrible twos" in a 46-year-old man. Intrinsic motivation, however, is the kind that Deci and Ryan find leads to lasting change. This is motivation that comes from within a person, meaning that it's in tune with who they are and what they want for themselves -- like abs of steel instead of...wait, there are abs in there?

So, the challenge here is not how to make your husband work out but how to get him to start wanting what you want. You're allowed to make requests of the person you're married to, so ask him to try something for you -- go to the gym...for just three weeks. Reassure him that you still find him hot, but explain that you really, really find him hot when it looks like you could chip a tooth on one of his biceps.

The three-week stint -- beyond getting him back in the habit of going to the gym -- should lead to some positive changes in his body, giving him a sense of accomplishment. Because Deci and Ryan find that feelings of "competence" are an integral part of intrinsic motivation, there's a good chance he'll feel motivated to keep working out -- instead of trying to get by on making those weightlifter grunts every time he changes the channel.

I'm trying to get over a breakup, and one of my best friends, in an attempt to help me move on, keeps saying, "He doesn't want you!" I get that (and I do need to move on), but hearing that makes me feel unlovable and even more depressed. I am seeing what went wrong; I should have believed him when he told me at the very beginning that he was "terrified of relationships." I'm sure it's frustrating for her to see me in pain, but I'm just not ready to get back out there. What do I tell her so she stops making me feel worse?

--Still Sad

Misery sometimes wishes company would shut its big flapping trap.

Of course, your friend means well. She just wants Pain and its BFF, Suffering, to bugger off already. However, like most people, she probably doesn't understand that the sadness you're experiencing isn't just a crappy feeling. Like all emotions, it has a job to do. In fact, sadness is a tool, just like a hammer, a plunger, or a Winkelschleifer (German for angle grinder).

Psychiatrist and evolutionary psychologist Randolph Nesse explains that "happiness and sadness usually follow experiences of gain or loss," helping us by "influencing future behavior" in ways that increase our chances of passing along our genes (including surviving long enough to manage that).

Happiness, for example, urges us (about whatever led to it), "Do that again and you'll see even more of me!" Sadness, on the other hand, warns us, "Do that again, missy, and I'll drag you right back to Boohoosville." Though sadness can seem like some kind of punishment you don't remember deserving, Nesse writes that "those people who don't experience much sadness ... are predicted to engage again in the same behaviors that previously led to loss."

Thank your friend for trying to make you feel better, but tell her that what you need from her is not tough love but the kind that involves hugs, Kleenex, and maybe a snack. Explain the utility of sadness -- and how you're using it as a tool to understand the past and act more wisely in the future. In other words, you aren't stalling in moving on; you're learning -- and not just how long you have to cry before the neighbors start going to work in rowboats and the government sends in the National Guard with sandbags and a year's supply of Cheetos.

When my husband comes home from a stressful day at work, he likes to play shoot-'em-up games on his phone. He says it relaxes him. I'd like to connect and talk before he goes into his mental man cave. Also, when he's into a game, it's annoying even to ask what he wants for dinner. Your advice?

--Gaming Widow

A stressed-out woman wants to talk about her feelings; a stressed-out man wants to gun down 87 slobbering zombies on his phone in hopes that his feelings get bored with him and go away.

It turns out that in dealing with emotional stress, men and women have some different neurochemical overlords.

If men's had a name, it would be The Earl of Overkill, which is to say men tend to react neurochemically to social stress as they would to being chased through the woods by a maniac with a crossbow.

First, there's a surge of epinephrine and norepinephrine, neuromessengers (aka neurotransmitters) that are the bandleaders of the brain's "fight or flight" reaction. These kick off survival-promoting changes in the body, like the heart beating faster, the release of the energy-mobilizing stress hormones adrenaline and cortisol, and blood coursing to the arms and legs (all the better to punch or run!).

Meanwhile, systems not needed to fight back or scram -- like digestion and higher reasoning -- get powered down. Yep. That's right. Higher reasoning goes all lights out; nobody's home. So trying to "connect and talk" with a stressed-out man is like trying to have an existential debate with a vacant warehouse.

It's even worse from the man's end. He's gotten chemically and otherwise physiologically mobilized to bolt or do battle. But when there's no crossbow-wielding dude to run from -- just a bunch of social stress -- there's no use for all of these bodily resources that have been mustered up.

Psychologist John Gottman calls the effect from this "flooding," explaining that men feel very physically uncomfortable and get extremely frustrated that their access to the brain's departments of insight and witty bits is blocked. Not surprisingly, what makes them feel better is mentally checking out until these uncomfortable feelings go away -- uh, in lieu of access to a zookeeper's tranq gun to shoot themselves in the thigh.

Unfortunately, the thing that makes men feel better is in direct conflict with what works for women. Psychologist Shelley Taylor finds that women's reaction to emotional stress is mediated by oxytocin, a neurotransmitter that facilitates emotional bonding. This leads to what she calls a "tend and befriend" response: self-soothing through caring for and emotionally engaging with others. In other words, women tend to deal with emotional stress monsters by gabbing them down to size.

But, good news. You can have what you need if you just wait for your husband to have what he needs: time to calm down and reset so his brain's higher reasoning center is no longer in "Hello, my name is Cinderblock!" mode. Decide together how much time that needs to be -- half an hour, maybe? After that, he should put down the flamethrower and "advance to the next level": spoken-word communication, and not just the sort where you ask him, "Is that 'mmmph' to steak or 'mmmph' you just ended World War III and saved the galaxy from Nazi zombies?"

Though the guy I broke up with recently was, ultimately, a pothead with zero ambition, I can't stop thinking about all the sweet moments. This feels better in the moment but just keeps me pining. How can I have a more balanced mental picture?

--Selective Nostalgia

Nostalgia is like crime-scene cleanup for your head: "My, what lovely new tiles. You'd hardly know there was once a triple murder in this kitchen."

We've got tons of information back in storage in our long-term memory (picture rows of shelves and old steel file cabinets going on for, like, forever). However, we can only bring out and reflect on a few pieces of information at a time -- probably four, according to memory researcher Nelson Cowan. Predictably, we gravitate to memories of ourselves as, say, a beloved partner who made smart choices -- as opposed to one who jumped in without looking and then upcycled the growing pile of red flags into dog beds to sell on Etsy.

You need a virtual drone cam to help you see the whole landscape at once, and it's called "an index card." On it, list all the bummer stuff about your ex that you need to keep in mind. Maybe save a photo of it on your phone. This should help you keep those pesky upsides in perspective, like how he was always so attentive to detail -- if that's what you'd call smoking tons of pot and spending several hours monitoring the hair on his left arm.

A guy my girlfriend dated seven years ago is now an aspiring artist, and he gave my girlfriend one of his paintings. It's abstract, splashy, and horrible. I find it disrespectful of him to give it to her (because she's in a relationship). She said he does lots of paintings, sells almost none, and gives them as gifts to all of his friends. I asked her to throw it away, but she said that would be "too mean" and shoved it under the bed. Am I being overly jealous, or is it wrong to accept gifts from exes?

--Chafed

Art -- especially abstract art -- says different things to different people. To you, the painting screams, "Ha-ha, I had sex with your girlfriend!" To everyone else, it's probably an expression of a moment -- the one that came seconds after "Outta the way! I had some bad clams!"

It makes sense that a gift from a guy to your girlfriend would set off your internal alarms. Consider, as evolutionary behavioral scientist Gad Saad points out, that one sex -- the male one -- woos (as in, tries to get the other into bed) with gifts. When a guy arrives to pick a woman up, she doesn't open the door with "Surprise, bro! Got you these roses! Take off your pants!"

As I somewhat frequently explain, this difference comes out of how sex can cost women big-time in a way it doesn't cost men -- with pregnancy and the 18-year after-party. So, women evolved to go for men who are willing and able to invest in any little, uh, nipple nibblers they give birth to, and gift-giving can be a signal of that.

Your being upset over the painting could be a subconscious reaction to this. But considering that this guy is handing out paintings like they're "We Buy Gold!" leaflets, this gift to your girlfriend is probably a sign of a few things: He paints badly (though prolifically) and lacks storage space.

In general, as for whether it's okay to accept gifts from exes, context counts. Did the two people break up just yesterday or a decade ago? Are there still feelings bubbling up? Was the ex's gift, say, a tire jack or a diamond-encrusted thong?

Because this was just an ugly painting given to your girlfriend by a friend (long stripped of benefits), she did the kind thing and accepted it. So maybe just appreciate that her willingness to shove it under the bed relieves you of the need to suggest an even better location: a la "Can I offer you a steak -- mesquite-grilled with just a hint of carcinogenic paint fumes?"

I'm a 31-year-old woman, and I've been dating my boyfriend for 10 months. I was hoping to get married eventually. Well, my friend goes to this famous "relationship coach" who says that if a guy doesn't ask you to marry him within the first year, he never will. Is that true? It's making me feel anxious and worried that I'm wasting my time.

--Two More Months?

It's comforting to believe that somebody has the magical knowledge that can get us to happily ever after. That's why there was a movie called "The Wizard of Oz" and not "The Dishwasher Repairman of Oz."

In fact, we crave certainty and get freaked out by uncertainty. Psychologically, a guarantee of something bad happening is way more comfortable for us than the mere possibility that it could. This sounds a little nuts, but it makes evolutionary sense, because uncertainty leaves us on constant alert, which is both psychologically and physiologically draining.

When research subjects are given a choice -- get an electric shock for sure right then and there or possibly get surprised with a shock later -- they overwhelmingly opt for the certain zapping in the present. And neuroscientist Archy de Berker found that people experienced greater physical stress responses (sweating and enlarged pupils) when a shock came unpredictably than when they knew it was coming.

This is why it can be tempting to buy into an "expert's" doom-and-gloom timetable -- despite countless examples disproving their "Marry before the year's out or spinsterville forever!" pronouncement. And consider something else: University of Pisa psychiatrist Donatella Marazziti finds that people in love are basically hormonally inebriated for a year or two. Also, it's typically adversity -- which tends to be in short supply during a year of romantic picnics and spa vacations -- that shows what two people are made of and how well they, as a couple, weather life's kicks in the teeth. You know...like after you encourage your partner to be true to that inner voice -- and he listens: "Thanks to you, honey, I'm quitting my soul-killing six-figure job to become a professional pogo stick artist."

My otherwise wonderful husband always leaves his wet towel on the bed (on my side!). I've asked him to stop doing this countless times, but I don't think he's being passive-aggressive or anything. I think he just spaces out after showering. How can I get him to remember?

--Soggy

It's good for a man to have goals, though ideally not one that involves growing a fern out of your comforter.

As you appear to understand, the problem isn't ill will; it's "I, Robot." The first time your husband wondered "Where do I put this wet towel?" -- perhaps at age 10 -- his brain said, "Easy peasy...just drop it right there on the bed." Sadly, it seems his superhero bedspread didn't pipe up: "Superman's got a ton to do today, and flying your wet towel over to the hamper is not on his agenda."

Our brain is an efficiency expert. Figuring things out the first time around (a la "what should I do with this towel?") takes a bunch of energy. But, as neuroscientist Donald Hebb pointed out (in somewhat more neuroscientific terms), as you do an action over and over, your brain goes, "Oh, that again." The trigger for the action -- in this case, approaching the bed (while in a towel, ready to get dressed) -- becomes automatic. Automatic means there's no stopping to muse, "Wait! I have a wife now, and she's threatening to Saran Wrap the bed." There's only the old familiar launch code: "Bed!" -- cueing "Drop wet towel here!"

This automation thing -- with thinking removed from the equation -- is the reason nagging or even asking nicely before or after the fact is so often useless in changing behavior. You need to break in to the automatic sequence as it's in progress (when he gets to the bed), kind of like an air traffic controller coming in over the plane's intercom -- "Attention Southwest two-two-niner..."

Interrupting the trigger sequence allows you to send a yoo-hoo to areas of his prefrontal cortex, the brain's department of rational thought -- asking them to kindly wake the hell up and take over from the basal ganglia and other parts of the brain's department of automation.

No, I'm not suggesting you stand guard by the bed like one of those decorative architectural lions, waiting for wet towel time. And hiring one of those street-corner sign spinners would probably be both impractical and a little creepy.

To grab your husband's attention in a positive way, I suggest collecting cartoons (like one of my faves, "Bizarro," by Dan Piraro) and leaving one marked "Towel alert! xo" on the area of the bed he turns into terrycloth swampland. (Pair it with a battery-operated flashing light if he ends up dropping his towel on top of it.) The cartoon should break him out of his auto-daze, reminding him to return the wet towel to its ancestral home, Ye Olde Towel Rack. (If there is something missing for the two of you in bed, it probably isn't mildew.)

I'm a novelist who's suddenly getting successful (after 20 years of crappy jobs and rejected manuscripts). Every day, several people make this annoying and rather insulting comment to me: "Don't forget about me when you're famous!" This got me wondering: What keeps some people grounded while others let success go to their head?

--Published

Of course you'll stay in touch with your old friends. You'll have your assistant call them to see whether they'd like to come over and clean out your rain gutters.

The quality that keeps success from turning you into, well, Kanye East is humility. People confuse humility -- being humble -- with being humiliated. However, humility is basically a healthy awareness of your limitations -- what social psychologist and humility researcher Pelin Kesebir describes as "a down-to-earth perspective of yourself in relation to all other beings."

That's something you're more likely to have when you make it at 40 -- after 20 years of working crappy jobs, driving a car held together with duct tape and hope, and selling your blood to buy a tuna melt. Contrast that with hitting it big at 17: "Bro, I was just on my hoverboard at the mall, and some dude handed me a recording contract!"

The cool thing is, social psychologist Elliott Kruse and his colleagues find that you can bolster humility by expressing gratitude -- appreciation for how another person has helped you. Expressing gratitude both "inhibits internal focus" and "promotes external focus" -- focus on others. This sort of wider view may help you keep any fame you get in perspective. After all, there's a way to live on in the hearts and minds of many, even after you die, and it's by creating brilliant, spirit-moving art -- or by being a chinchilla videotaped while eating a Dorito.