My friend won't stop talking about her new crush, and it's driving me up the wall. I was annoyed, but now I'm getting increasingly angry, and I don't appreciate this toxic feeling rising up. It's all her and her new love all the time. If she asks anything about me or how I'm doing, it's an afterthought. I try to avoid conflict, so I haven't said anything. I keep hoping she'll realize she's behaving really selfishly. What will it take to get her to recognize this and start being a better friend?

--Upset

There's actual friendship, and then there's calling somebody a friend but using them as a giant ear-shaped trash can.

Not surprisingly, being treated this way has left you feeling angry. Like many people, you're uncomfortable with anger. Anger is often characterized (wrongly) as a "negative" emotion. Sure, the expression of anger -- ours or that of somebody around us -- can make us feel stressed out, uncomfortable, and even poisoned. Uncontrolled anger can get us in trouble (sometimes for 20 years to life).

However, anger, like the rest of our emotions, is actually functional. Over millions of years, our emotions evolved to be the factory foremen of human behavior, motivating us to behave in ways that solved problems humans dealt with on a recurring basis, such as finding a mate, avoiding a beat down, and getting a friend to be more give-and-take than take, take, take.

Evolutionary psychologist Aaron Sell, who researches anger, explains that it is one of a few emotions that serves to regulate not just our behavior but also that of others (as do shame and sadness). When we express sadness, for example, like by sobbing, it evokes empathy in others, which makes them want to reach out and give us a hug and maybe even let us use their shoulder as a substitute for snotty Kleenex.

Sell calls anger a "recalibrational emotion" and explains that it functions as a bargaining tool for us to negotiate for better treatment. When we notice that another person doesn't place enough value on our "welfare" (meaning our interests, our well-being), anger rises up in us, motivating us to take action to get the other person to correct -- that is, recalibrate -- the imbalance, to treat us better.

Anger does its recalibrational work -- that is, incentivizes better treatment -- through two tactics, explains Sell: the potential for the angry person to inflict costs (sometimes just through the scary ugliness of aggression) or to withdraw benefits (such as the various social and emotional perks of being somebody's friend). Either of these tactics suggests to the person doing the short shrifting that they'll be worse off if they continue to put too little weight on the angry person's interests, and this can motivate them to mend their selfish, neglectful ways.

In other words, in anger, you've got a fantastic tool to protect you from being taken advantage of...that is, if you use it instead of trying to suppress it. Because anger is triggered automatically, stifling it won't make it go away; it'll make it go away and get bigger and uglier. It's likely to leak out at inappropriate times (like in sniping hostility when you speak), and there can be an eventual out-of-proportion explosion, often at some seriously minor perceived "slight," like the person you're angry with not passing a condiment quite zippily enough.

Healthy assertiveness, on the other hand, requires the expression of what I'd call "timely, judicious honesty." "Timely" means expressing that you have unmet needs relatively quickly -- as soon as you can after you realize there's an issue.

Being "judicious" means taking an emotionally strategic approach: framing the discussion with how you feel rather than how someone's wronged you. In practice, this means evoking the other person's empathy (saying, "I feel bad when...") rather than using language of accusation or blame ("You do this rotten thing..."), which makes a person feel attacked and motivates them to fight back instead of listening.

The third step, "honesty," is expressing, "Here's what I need..." and seeing whether the other person says they're up for providing it. Then, of course, there's seeing whether they actually will (perhaps with a reminder or two from you if they automatically fall back into their old ways).

If you accept responsibility for being delinquent in expressing what you want from your friend, it should help you cool off enough to do that now in a civil way. If it turns out she isn't genuinely interested in your welfare -- that is, in being a real friend to you with all the give-and-take that involves -- you can downgrade her accordingly (like from friend to "someone I know"). Of course, you really couldn't be a better friend to her right now -- that is, unless you had your jaw wired shut for a month.

For pages and pages of "science-help" from me, buy my latest book, "Unf*ckology: A Field Guide to Living with Guts and Confidence." It lays out the PROCESS of transforming to live w/confidence.

I'm a 30-year-old gay man with a new boyfriend. He is a total social butterfly: the kind of person who shows up to a bar on a random Friday night and just happens to know 10 people there. I, on the other hand, don't love being super social. It's not that I'm shy. I just find socializing exhausting. I really like him, and we mostly hang out one-on-one. However, the times we are with a lot of other people, even when they're a bunch of his friends, I feel a little overwhelmed. I'm worried he'll find me boring because of this, and I'd rather know sooner than later if my being a wallflower will be the death of the relationship.

--Introvert

There are great parties and introverts' version of great parties: the ones they arrive at on the wrong day and find a locked, dark house.

What is introversion? Good question, and, annoyingly, one that researchers have yet to agree upon an answer to. So, best I can generalize from quarrying through the research: Introversion is most correctly summed up as the other end of the spectrum from extroversion, with extroversion as "outgoingness" and introversion as "ingoingness." In the middle are "ambiverts," those who, depending on their mood and the situation, are sometimes a social butterfly and sometimes a social bug in amber.

An extrovert thrives on human contact and is motivated to pursue "novelty" (experiences they've yet to have) and excitement. An introvert, on the other hand, is more focused on (and comfortable in) the world in their thoughts than they are in the world of people, loud noises, and buzzing activity.

Introversion gets confused with shyness. But shyness is a psychological problem to overcome -- a fear- and shame-driven reluctance to engage with others -- whereas introversion is merely a preference for quieter, less populous environments. In other words, introverts aren't dysfunctional. They're differently functional.

Extroverts and introverts' differing social preferences (essentially, "I love a parade!" versus "I love a cave") seem to result from differences in the ways their brains process "stimulus" and "reward."

In psychology, a stimulus is something that happens in the environment around a person (like a horn honking or a spider legging it across their pillow) that's registered by their senses and then their brain, motivating a response.

Cognitive scientist Debra L. Johnson used brain imaging to explore differences in stimulus processing in introverts and extroverts. In introverts, sensory input - input from their senses -- led to increased blood flow in the brain (playing out as their being socked with increased stimulation). In extroverts, the same sensory input led to less overall blood flow, which plays out as less sensitivity to external stimulation, likely leading to a need for more of it.

Input from the senses also takes off down different paths in the brains of introverts and extroverts, "thinky" (in introverts) versus "feely" (in extroverts). For example, in introverts, it led to activity in frontal lobe "higher reasoning" areas used for problem-solving, remembering, and making plans. In extroverts, rear areas of the brain that process sensory experience (like seeing, watching, and touching) were activated, making an extrovert's brain optimal for managing environmental stimuli (like from a big raging party) that can lead to sensory overload in an introvert.

Extroverts also get encouragement to be social (in neurochemical form) from increased activity in their brain's "reward network," according to research by psychologist Richard Depue, among others. The neurochemical more active in extroverts' brains is dopamine, which motivates seeking and wanting. It energizes them to pursue social connection, and there's a memory component, too, like pop-up ads on a browser, reminding them of all the previous awesomeness they experienced while being swarmed by people. (Introvert: I'd rather be swarmed by angry bees.)

Relationships can work between an introvert and extrovert -- like my boyfriend and me. I'm the extrovert. If you're human and not dead, I want to talk to you. My introvert boyfriend, on the other hand, says things like, "I enjoy interesting conversation, even if it involves talking to people." I take him to parties when necessary, but I will often leave him home, which leaves him overjoyed.

Explain the science to your boyfriend, along with your fears that he'll come to long for the sort of partner who swings from the chandelier while throwing back martinis and exchanging witty banter with those below. Sure, he might realize he needs a partner who is his social doppelganger, but he also might tell you he finds your introspectiveness refreshing and even quietly sexy. If so, you could make your relationship work by being mindful of each other's differing needs and figuring out ways for each of you to get yours met with a minimum of hellish discomfort for the other -- or, as you might put it, "Till party do us death."

For pages and pages of "science-help" from me, buy my latest book, "Unf*ckology: A Field Guide to Living with Guts and Confidence." It lays out the PROCESS of transforming to live w/confidence.

I became friends with this awesome guy who moved into my apartment complex. I can tell that he's into me, but he's not my type at all. What should I say to tell him I'm not interested?

--Uncomfortable

Telling a guy you aren't interested before he asks you out is like coming up to a stranger in a bar and saying, "This seat taken? By the way, I find you sexually repellant."

Rejection shouldn't be thrown around like croutons to geese. Social psychologist Mark Leary notes that romantic rejection can lead to people feeling ashamed for being "inadequately valued" by someone they're romantically interested in.

The shame comes out of how high social status (being extremely valued by others) evolved to be the Amex Black Card of human interaction. It comes with important benefits, such as better access to resources, including a better choice of romantic partners. However, though shame is painful, the notion that it is a "bad," maladaptive emotion is based in assumptions that passed for science (from 1971 by clinical psychologist Helen Block Lewis) that failed to look for the possible function of shame.

Emotions are evolved motivational tools that drive us to act in ways that enhance our survival and mating opportunities and help us pass on our genes. Accordingly, cross-cultural research by evolutionary psychologist Daniel Sznycer suggests that shame is a "defensive system" that motivates us to behave in ways that keep us from being devalued or further devalued by others in our social world. In a harsh ancestral environment, this could have kept us from being thrown out of our band and starving to death and/or getting eaten by a tiger. In the current environment, where food is plentiful and tigers mainly exist in cartoon form on cereal boxes, if you can avoid making a guy feel ashamed, it's a good idea.

A feminism- and #MeToo-driven feature (or bug) of the current environment is that men are often afraid to be direct with women they're into: "Don't ask for what you want; just stare at it and hope it trips, falls into your lap, and decides you're attractive." If this guy seems interested but remains mum, there's no reason to humiliate him by telling him you don't find him attractive. Avoid flirty talk and body language and situations that could slide into makeout sessions, like Netflix 'n' chillin' together.

If he does ask you out or make a move, be immediately clear and direct: "I'm only interested in you as a friend." (Ambiguous brushoffs like, "It's not a good time" send the message, "Try again at a later date!") If you can act like nothing awkward has happened between you, it should minimize his humiliation and shame. Sadly, sometimes "the birds and the bees" is a category that also includes "the vegetables," as in, "I like you as a person, but I find you sexy like a potato."

For pages and pages of "science-help" from me, buy my latest book, "Unf*ckology: A Field Guide to Living with Guts and Confidence." It lays out the PROCESS of transforming to live w/confidence.

I'm a 27-year-old elementary school teacher. My boyfriend wants to film us in bed, but I'm not entirely sure how I feel about it. I can't help but play out some nightmare scenario that we break up and he does something awful with the footage. He's a good guy, and I trust him, but this still seems like a reasonable fear to have. Should I just calm down and go with it, or should I tell him my fears?

--Ms. Anonymous

Your willingness to appear on video doing dirty hot yoga and making wounded animal noises should be directly disproportionate to how big you are on, say, keeping your job as a first grade teacher.

No matter how careful your boyfriend swears he'll be, the reality is that any day can be turned into Casual Privacy Elimination Friday. Consider that "Oh, no...they hacked our cloud!" gets blurted out at major health care institutions with gazillion-dollar IT security. Also, as you note, today's "I love you" can shift to tomorrow's "I will ruin you!" and whoops, how did your sex tape get posted to 65 different websites in under an hour?

If you're like many women, you find it hard to say no to requests from a person you love. Women tend to have more helpings of the personality trait "agreeableness," which manifests in being kind, generous, warm, and cooperative. Research by psychologists William Graziano and Nancy Eisenberg suggests the underlying motivation is maintaining smooth, positive relationships with others.

However, just because you're motivated to act in a certain way doesn't mean you should, like when the cost of being "cooperative" could be potential career ruin. Steel yourself, and explain to your boyfriend that you really want to say yes, but you just can't risk your students answering the question, "So, what did you learn in school today?" with "Teacher Likes It Kinky."

For pages and pages of "science-help" from me, buy my latest book, "Unf*ckology: A Field Guide to Living with Guts and Confidence." It lays out the PROCESS of transforming to live w/confidence.

I'm a 34-year-old woman, and I've been with my boyfriend for about eighteen months. He's a loving guy but comes up a little short on romance ("butterfly moments," I guess you'd call them, from being surprised with some big romantic gesture). While I want those, I wonder whether that's just because society/media/culture have led me to believe they're the norm? How can I get these "butterfly moments" without asking unreasonable things of him?

--In Need

Heterosexual relationships would be less upsetting if straight men paired up with each other, starting with one guy hitting on another in a bar with, "Yo, I have somebody who'd like to meet you," and then just pointing to his crotch.

There are sentimental men out there, but men in general (and especially straight men) take a more utilitarian approach to relationships than women: "If it ain't broke, no need to divert the car payment to the French florist." There's too little understanding and acceptance of this difference (ultimately in emotional mindset). Many people make a leap from the legitimate idea that women and men deserve equal rights to the illegitimate assumption that they are psychologically the same -- down to their having the exact same needs.

This fantasy is taught as fact in women's studies departments, and it's made the way into the population as a whole. It's driven by the unscientific denial of sex differences in male and female emotional makeup (some emerging as early as infancy) and the differences in behavior that come out of them.

Granted, men and women are more similar than different. (We all want love, food, shelter, and good dentistry.) But men and women are emotionally different. For example, if a woman forgets her man's birthday or lets Valentine's Day slip her mind, it's the rare man who will punish her with a sex strike and/or three months of resting pout face ("every day is a funeral for me").

Men's and women's differing and sometimes sharply conflicting emotional mindsets seem mysterious and even pointless until you look at them through the lens of evolutionary psychology. Evolutionary biologist Robert Trivers notes that having sex results in differing levels of obligatory "investment" for women and men: possible pregnancy plus childrearing for the ladies versus "Here's my sperm. That was fun. Bye!"

In line with this, research by evolutionary psychologists Martie Haselton and David Buss suggests that women evolved to be "commitment skeptics," to err on the side of believing a man won't stick around. Our emotions are our support staff for seeing we meet our evolutionary needs, and female emotions press women to seek signs that a man they have sex with is committed to them.

When the signs are scant or absent, women feel bad, which motivates them to press for more commitment or find the undercommitted man's replacement. In other words, "abandonment issues" seem to be baked into women's emotional makeup. Ancestral women who vetted a man to see that he'd stick around post-sex to bring home the bison were more likely to have children who survived to pass on their genes.

This should tell you that you aren't wrong to want some romantic extravaganzas any more than you're wrong to want a sandwich when your stomach starts growling like a wolverine. To get what you need, avoid the thinking too many women make themselves miserable with: "If he loved me, he'd just know what to do." Reality: If he were a woman, with evolved female emotions, he probably would.

When you two are having a sweet moment together, acknowledge that the male mindset on romance is different. Tell him what would make you happy, and ask that he do it. Because a guy can sincerely intend to follow through and then have it slip his mind, you might give him specific targets to hit -- your birthday, your anniversary, Valentine's Day -- and suggest he get one of those reminder apps.

When he comes through, tell him how much it means to you. That said, it's also important to be mindful of human fallibility, as in, what it means if a man forgets your birthday. If he shows his love in little daily ways, maybe tell him you're rescheduling your birthday for the next week to give him another chance.

If money is an issue for him, let him know it's the heartfelt effort that counts, not a reservation at Chez We'll Need Your Pension Signed Over. Explain ways he can be romantic without going broke or more broke. When you love a man, you can have a magical time while toasting your anniversary over a romantic picnic dinner and then getting arrested together for the public consumption of alcohol: "We'll always have Paris bail bonds!"

For pages and pages of "science-help" from me, buy my latest book, "Unf*ckology: A Field Guide to Living with Guts and Confidence." It lays out the PROCESS of transforming to live w/confidence.