Who are our heroes? Charles Lindberg, John Glenn, General George Patton, Mohammed Ali, Amelia Earhart, John Kennedy, Arnold Schwarzenegger … for me as a boy it was John Wayne. Branded into my memory is a movie scene when John Wayne is told of the murder of Billy, his life-long friend and the town sheriff. The “Duke” momentarily looks shaken, and then says, “He was a good man,” drinks a shot of whiskey and exclaims, “Enough grievin’ … let’s organize a posse.” What is admirable about this? What characterizes the prized public image of so many of our heroes? Often embodied in these personas is an emotional toughness … a determined self-reliance, and the ability to put feelings aside and move ahead against all odds.

I’ve often wondered whether any of these people were plagued by fears, self-doubt, apprehension, guilt, embarrassment, or shame. Did they ever feel timid, shy, or humiliated? How did normal human emotions figure into the outcomes of the stories we know so well? Were such emotions simply absent or perhaps just ignored or tucked away? It’s hard to know.

In 1972 Senator Thomas Eagelton, the democratic vice presidential candidate, revealed that he had been treated for depression. In the aftermath of this disclosure, the public saw this as a major political liability, and he was dropped from the ticket like a hot potato.

Edmund Muskie had been the Democratic front-runner in the 1972 presidential elections. However, his popularity ratings took a nosedive after he was seen on television shedding tears during an emotional political rally. It was not a good year for the Democrats.

But let’s take a closer look. Abraham Lincoln, arguably our greatest president, will long be honored for enormous contributions to humanity. During his service to the country, few people knew that he suffered from serious bouts of depression and harbored persistent, agonizing grief over the death of his son. His personal diaries revealed the intensity of his sensitivity and the depth of his emotional anguish. Consider this excerpt from Lincoln’s diary: “I am now the most miserable man living. If what I feel were equally distributed over the whole human family, there would be not one cheerful face on Earth.”

Obviously Lincoln had strong feelings and suffered a lot. But, he didn’t go public with it and he’s a hero. I guess that was the politically correct thing to do, even in the 1800s. So maybe being able to hide emotions is key.

Cultural heroes, whether actual historical figures or characters portrayed in popular movies and myths, transmit societal ideas that inspire and encourage desirable behaviors such as courage, sturdiness, and fortitude. Yet such stories rarely acknowledge many important elements of human experience such as tenderness, sensitivity, neediness, compassion, humble acceptance of one’s limits, loss, grief, anguish, embarrassment, humility, exhaustion, loneliness, empathy, and other softer human emotions. Not only are these human experiences neglected in mythic tales, but also they are often diminished and devalued. A common social message is that if you want to be seen as successful, desirable, mature, healthy, and psychologically fit, you should either not experience emotional sensitivity, or at the very least you should keep it to yourself and deal with it.

In this opening chapter, we’ll take a close look at how cultural values in our country strongly influence how people feel about having normal human emotions. As we’ll see, some prevailing ideas about how people “ought to be,” may be very misguided and actually in the long-run, interfere with adaptive emotional coping.

How do people get exposed to these cultural values? When do we start learning about how we “ought to feel” …? Earlier than you may think.

Clichés and admonitions quickly become a part of every child’s lexicon. Some have a positive, pro-social spin, such as “Honesty is the best policy” or “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.” But in many subtle (or not-so-subtle) ways these lexicons scold and condemn. Adults say these things to kids, and sooner or later the words get encoded in the child’s mind. Thereafter, even when completely alone, a person may notice that he is telling himself the same scolding statements. These have then become a type of internal self-talk. Psychologists refer to these as injunctions. See if any of these sounds familiar:

All too often such statements stir inner feelings of guilt, inadequacy, and shame rather than inspire hope or positive coping.

Let’s add to the list some words of advice that at first glance sound optimistic and encouraging:

Of course these phrases are often shared with sincerity and good-hearted intentions; and they may provide comfort to some. However, in the midst of a serious life crisis, many people detect a less positive underlying message: “Look on the bright side … and if you can’t, then there is something wrong with you.”

Somewhere along the road of cultural evolution our society came to value some traits, and to devalue others. What has emerged is a “grit your teeth, ignore your feelings, and get on with your life” mentality. And, part and parcel of this is the view that strong feelings or emotional sensitivity are signs of weakness, immaturity, and inadequacy. The big question is, does this pervasive cultural tradition actually help people? Do such attitudes contribute to people having fuller, more satisfying and healthier lives? Some of the research suggests not.

Some might point to recent cultural phenomena that could be signaling a change. How about the “Men’s Movement,” in which guys hug each other more frequently and athletes appear to be more okay about shedding tears? Well, maybe. But has this actually trickled down into a meaningful level that really matters when life gets hard and people inwardly experience strong emotions? I would suggest that it has not, and that a dominant attitude in twenty-first-century America continues to be what might be called “emotion phobia.”

It certainly may be in vogue to say, “I feel your pain” or “get in touch with your feelings.” And it’s probably true that more men do cry during movies these days. But, as they say, when the rubber meets the road, when people are face to face with real-life emotional heartache, how okay is it really to be “emotional?” And often if it is okay to be emotional, is it really okay to keep being emotional tomorrow, or next week, or next month? Aren’t we supposed to get over it and get on with our lives?

Intensely painful emotions can overwhelm or scare people. This is understandable. They are hard to face personally and it’s also dammed hard for a lot of us to witness suffering in others (especially in those we know and love). So what do people do when faced with intense emotions? Here are some examples:

We all encounter some form of this pressure to be and to feel a certain way. Here is the truth: whether emotions are expressed outwardly or held in check by gritting your teeth, human beings do have feelings! As we’ll see, some of these emotions are healthy, adaptive, and completely normal (let’s call these primary emotions: sadness, anger, grief, fear). Others are the by-products of pressures to conform and to please others (secondary emotions such as shame, guilt, embarrassment).

Let’s take a brief glimpse into six human lives …

Carolyn (age 37): “I lost my dad last fall, it’s been nine months since he died. We were very close and, God, I miss him so much. Two or three times a week I think about him, and I break down crying. My husband thinks I’m just too sensitive and says I need to be strong and just let go and get on with my life. I guess he’s right … what’s wrong with me?”

Jill (age 27): “I was absolutely convinced that I had the best marriage in the world. Our future looked bright, and everyone said that we were the perfect couple … and there’s nothing terribly wrong, but … I just feel sad and empty all the time. Jerry is so busy all the time with his work. And when I try and talk with him or try to give him a hug, he looks at me, and he has this expression on his face like he’s irritated and impatient with me. I don’t want to complain and whine about this. Other people have problems that are a lot worse than mine. I don’t know why but I just feel terrible all the time. Ever since I was a child I’ve always just been too sensitive.”

Mac (age 31): “I’m the man … I’m the father … I’ve always been self-reliant and sturdy … I know I need to be strong. And I am in a lot of ways. But I also know that I am slowly losing my mind. My daughter, Hannah, is wasting away before my eyes. Every day the cancer is taking her away. She’s suffering so much … and sometimes I think she’s stronger than me. Moments before I walk into her hospital room, I literally feel like I am going to throw up … I feel shaky, and on the verge of breaking down. Sometimes I just want to run away. What the hell is wrong with me?! I feel like a god-damned coward. I know that I love her with all my heart, and yet I feel this incredible urge to avoid seeing her. I feel so ashamed of myself. God, what a nightmare!”

Ethel (age 73): “My husband, Ray, died two years ago. He was my whole life. And I miss him so much. I feel like my heart has been ripped out and broken beyond repair. And, I think that if I hear one more person say, ‘Oh, I understand’ or ‘Well, he had a good life and you have your good memories’ or ‘You just need to let go,’ I think I’ll just scream! Nobody knows how lonely I feel!”

David (age 15): “I hate myself! I brought my report card home with three As and two Bs, and my dad said, ‘David, you’ve got so much potential … couldn’t you just apply yourself more!’ And when I got upset, he said, ‘What the hell is wrong with you?! You are so damned sensitive to criticism. You are acting like some grade-school kid. Grow up!’”

Donna (age 24): “Something is terribly wrong with me. I was molested when I was a young girl. It happened over a period of two months one summer, and never again. That was 17 years ago. But I still get terrified when a man starts to get interested in me. My best friend, Sally, says I just need to forget about it. I must be seriously screwed up.”

These life events are different, but each of these people share three things in common. At this moment, life is very hard and they inwardly experience very strong emotions about things that matter to them deeply. Secondly, each is encountering the reactions of others: society in general, or friends and relatives, many of whom love them and are concerned. But in each instance, messages bleed though either in direct or subtle ways. Others are not able to be fully accepting of the person’s emotions. When this occurs for Carolyn, Jill, David, or the others, their suffering now becomes complicated. Beyond their core, heart-felt (primary) emotions of sadness, loneliness, and fear are secondary emotions: feelings of guilt, shame, embarrassment, anger turned toward one’s self, or humiliation. Finally, in addition to the felt sense of criticism or misunderstanding coming from others, each has started to experience some degree of self-doubt. Rather than viewing his or her suffering as an understandable response to painful life events, each is plagued by worries, “What’s wrong with me? I’m too sensitive. I’m seriously screwed up. I must be going crazy.”

Like it or not, most of us either are currently having a very rough time, or will at some time in the future. Emotional hurt cannot be completely avoided on our journeys through life. Feeling ashamed about having normal human emotions is one of the most common ways that people intensify emotional suffering.

The Least You Need to Know