Big Feelings

When was the last time you felt overwhelmed by your own emotions—so uncertain, angry, or burned out that it seemed impossible to move forward? In Big Feelings, Liz Fosslien and Mollie West Duffy argue that these emotions are not signs of weakness or failure but instead essential parts of being human. The book’s central premise is that so-called “negative” emotions—uncertainty, comparison, anger, burnout, perfectionism, despair, and regret—can be powerful teachers if you learn to recognize, name, and work through them.

The authors contend that emotional suffering often worsens not because of the feelings themselves but because of how we resist them. We’re taught from early childhood to suppress, ignore, or rationalize our way out of discomfort—messages that disconnect us from ourselves and each other. Fosslien and West Duffy aim to rewrite that script by offering a modern emotional field guide rooted in psychological research, personal vulnerability, and storytelling drawn from hundreds of real people. Their goal is not to eliminate big feelings, but to help you live alongside them with grace and curiosity.

Why Big Feelings Matter

In today’s hyperconnected, high-speed world, emotions have become both ever-present and taboo. People endure anxiety about uncertainty, envy on social media, exhaustion from work, and guilt for not feeling grateful enough. Yet these emotions can also carry important messages: anxiety signals fear of the unknown, anger highlights violated boundaries, and regret points toward your values. The authors argue that when you learn to decode your emotional states, you can transform distress into meaningful growth.

Drawing on research from psychology and neuroscience (as well as thinkers like Brené Brown and Pema Chödrön), Fosslien and West Duffy show that the key to emotional health lies in emotional granularity—the ability to precisely name what you’re feeling. For instance, distinguishing between feeling stressed, burned out, or despairing helps you respond appropriately rather than spiraling.

The Authors’ Journey into Emotional Honesty

Both authors began this project during personal crises: Liz was coping with anxiety, health issues, and family illness, while Mollie faced chronic pain, depression, and disconnection from work. They realized that their emotional turbulence contrasted sharply with their professional personas as successful women in corporate and creative fields. Their previous book, No Hard Feelings, explored emotions in the workplace; Big Feelings goes deeper, unraveling what happens when those emotions spill into every corner of life.

Through their own experiences and interviews, they discovered that nearly everyone feels isolated within their emotional struggles—even though those emotions are nearly universal. By naming them, sharing stories, and breaking down the science behind them, they sought to normalize big emotions and reduce the shame that keeps people silent.

The Seven Big Feelings

The book devotes a chapter to each of seven major emotions:

• Uncertainty — How to find stability when life feels unpredictable and uncontrollable.
• Comparison — How envy and self-judgment can clarify your true desires.
• Anger — How this misunderstood emotion can become a productive and clarifying force.
• Burnout — Why exhaustion isn’t just overwork, but a signal to regain alignment with your values.
• Perfectionism — How the pursuit of flawlessness keeps you trapped and disconnected from yourself and others.
• Despair — How to survive emotional rock bottom and rediscover meaning.
• Regret — How to transform remorse into wisdom and forward movement.

Each chapter debunks myths (e.g., “certainty is attainable,” “get off social media and comparison will disappear,” or “resilience alone will save you”) and replaces them with concrete practices. These include sitting with discomfort, naming your feelings, and translating vague anxieties into specific fears. The authors also introduce tools like the “withins and beyonds” framework for uncertainty, the Burnout Profile Assessment, and the “anger expression tendencies” model.

A Candid, Research-Backed Approach to Emotion

What distinguishes Big Feelings from other self-help books is its blend of vulnerability and practicality. Fosslien and West Duffy don’t claim to have transcended their emotions—they openly admit to still crying at work, feeling jealous, and fighting burnout. This honesty builds credibility, making their advice feel human rather than prescriptive. Their writing is also deeply accessible, frequently illustrating points with humor, vivid anecdotes, and comics that make emotional literacy approachable.

The authors weave together personal stories (like Liz’s physical collapse after a panic attack and Mollie’s suicidal despair) with data and expert insights to show that emotions are not obstacles to productivity—they are vital feedback systems. The book’s final message mirrors Buddhist philosophy and modern psychology alike: pain is inevitable, but suffering is optional when you meet your emotions with curiosity rather than judgment.

Why This Book Is Urgently Relevant

As society faces global instability, pandemics, and cultural shifts, we’re all contending with uncertainty and emotional overload. Big Feelings arrives as both a field manual and a mirror—it reflects the collective exhaustion of our times and offers a more compassionate approach to self-management. Rather than chasing constant positivity or suppressing discomfort, Fosslien and West Duffy remind us that to live fully is to feel deeply. Their roadmap teaches you to sit with the “messy middle” of human emotions—and in doing so, reclaim peace, resilience, and connection.

Few things rattle the human mind more than not knowing what’s coming next. In the book’s first chapter, Fosslien and West Duffy unpack how uncertainty fuels anxiety and why, paradoxically, accepting unpredictability is what calms us most. They argue that we can’t eliminate uncertainty, but we can learn to coexist with it in a way that restores a sense of agency and peace.

The Three Myths of Uncertainty

The authors dismantle three myths: first, that certainty is attainable; second, that anxiety reflects actual risk; and third, that resilience means enduring anything alone. Through Liz’s story of debilitating migraines and panic attacks, they show how trying to control the uncontrollable only deepens suffering. Historical comparisons—from the Cuban Missile Crisis to the pandemic—reveal that uncertainty isn’t new; it’s fundamental to life.

Experiments on fear and risk perception confirm how disproportionate our emotional reactions often are. People fear a 50% chance of pain more than a guaranteed outcome, preferring bad certainty to ambiguity. This explains why we cling to unsatisfying jobs or relationships—they may be miserable, but they are predictable. By naming this instinct, you can interrupt its hold.

Reframing Anxiety as Growth

The authors propose replacing “I can’t handle this” with “I’m a person learning to handle this.” This reframing shifts your self-image from helpless to adaptive, cultivating what psychologist Carol Dweck calls a growth mindset. Instead of judging yourself for fear or confusion, you treat life as a training ground for uncertainty tolerance. Liz illustrates this mindset by developing disciplined self-care rituals—acupuncture, sleep, exercise—that gave her small footholds of control.

The ‘Withins’ and ‘Beyonds’ Framework

A central practical tool is separating what’s within your control from what’s beyond it. One reader, Susan, faced crippling pandemic anxiety until she and her husband moved from New York to Toronto. They couldn’t control global politics (the beyonds), but they could relocate for peace (the within). This distinction helps you act strategically rather than impulsively, replacing worry with constructive motion.

Finding Footholds of Control

The authors cite neuroscientist Robert Sapolsky’s notion of climbing a wall of uncertainty using “footholds of control.” These are manageable actions that tether you to stability: creating comforting rituals, translating vague worries into clear fears, and practicing “noting” to label anxious thoughts without fusing with them. For example, saying to yourself, “I’m catastrophizing right now,” restores distance between you and your thoughts.

Designing for Your Uncertainty Tolerance

Ultimately, living well under uncertainty means aligning your choices with your personal tolerance for it. Some people thrive as freelancers; others need steady pay and routine. Recognizing your comfort zone isn’t cowardice—it’s wisdom. As one reader said, “I used to think unpredictability was sexy in my twenties. Now I just want boring.” Fosslien and West Duffy conclude that by grounding in small routines and reflecting on past resilience, you’ll find that uncertainty doesn’t destroy you—it invites you to grow.

Comparison, the authors note, is an evolutionary tool gone rogue. Once useful for survival—who’s faster, healthier, or safer—it now fuels envy, anxiety, and endless scrolling. Yet the book reveals a gentler truth: we can use comparison to understand what we value most, not to judge our worth.

The Myth of Escaping Comparison

Social media may amplify envy, but deleting Instagram won’t end it. Our brains are wired to self-evaluate, what sociologist Charles Cooley called the “looking-glass self.” Even monkeys compare their food. The challenge isn’t erasing comparison—it’s learning to interpret it correctly. When Mollie withdrew from her friend Vanessa after struggling to conceive, she realized her pain came not from jealousy of motherhood itself but from mourning a version of her life that hadn’t materialized yet.

Healthy vs. Harmful Envy

Fosslien and West Duffy distinguish between benign envy, which sparks motivation, and malicious envy, which festers into resentment. When you feel that sting of jealousy, ask what it’s really pointing to. Gretchen Rubin, for instance, switched from law to writing after realizing her jealousy of authors revealed her true passion. Understanding which comparisons inspire versus deplete you turns envy into a compass for desire.

Seeing Behind the Highlight Reel

We rarely witness others’ struggles, only their curated moments. Economist Johannes Haushofer’s viral “CV of Failures” demonstrated how revealing setbacks can humanize success. Fosslien and West Duffy remind you to mentally piece together the unseen footage from people’s lives—missed promotions, breakups, financial stress—that their feeds omit. Understanding these hidden struggles balances perspective and restores empathy.

Practical Ways to Reframe

• Avoid comparison hotbeds when you’re vulnerable; your self-talk matters most when you’re down.
• Broaden your baseline—remember the many who share your challenges, not just those ahead of you.
• Compare the “nitty-gritty” realities, not just the outcomes. You may want someone’s lifestyle but not their daily stress.
• Finally, track your own progress: compare present-you to past-you.

When comparison arises, Fosslien and West Duffy suggest tenderness over shame. Rather than telling yourself to “stop comparing,” try asking, “What is this feeling trying to teach me?” In that reframing, comparison becomes not a thief of joy—but a truth-teller about what you most long to pursue.

Anger, one of society’s most stigmatized emotions, is also one of its most misunderstood. Fosslien and West Duffy push back against the myth that anger must be suppressed or that it’s inherently destructive. They show that anger, when channeled consciously, can signal injustice, clarify boundaries, and fuel transformation.

Seeing Anger as Information

Drawing from psychologist James Averill’s landmark research, the authors show that anger often motivates positive change rather than violence. Liz’s fury at the sexist assumptions surrounding her engagement, for instance, became the catalyst for reclaiming her identity within marriage. Anger, they write, “is evolution’s alarm bell”—a nonspecific call to action, not a command to destroy. Suppressing it leads to resentment, “anger’s high-interest debt.”

Bias and Expression

Our culture distorts how anger is perceived and who’s allowed to express it. Serena Williams’s justified outrage was vilified while Novak Djokovic’s tantrums earned sympathy. Such double standards reveal the racial and gender biases underlying “acceptable” anger. As Soraya Chemaly and Audre Lorde have argued, women’s anger often arises from compassion—the desire for a fairer world.

Finding Your Anger Style

The book identifies four anger expression tendencies—suppressor, projector, controller, and transformer. Understanding your default mode (do you bottle up or lash out?) helps you regulate rather than repress. Mollie and her husband, who both avoided conflict, developed weekly check-ins to air frustrations safely. The goal isn’t to extinguish anger, but to express it before it festers.

Channeling Anger for Good

When harnessed constructively, anger fuels social and creative breakthroughs. From the Me Too movement to Nina Simone’s protest songs, outrage has historically propelled justice. On a personal level, it can drive boundary-setting or courage—asking for a raise, leaving an unfair job, confronting disrespect. As the authors summarize, “Use your mad to get even”—not as revenge, but as recalibration.

Anger clarifies values. By listening to what provokes you, you learn what matters most. The task is not to bury your rage but to translate it into meaningful change. Or, as Liz learned, to close the laptop, talk through what’s truly upsetting you, and turn fury into freedom.

Burnout might feel like an individual failure, but Fosslien and West Duffy expose it as a systemic and psychological phenomenon shaped by overwork, capitalism, and self-worth tied to productivity. They argue that slowing down isn’t laziness—it’s essential maintenance.

Rethinking What Burnout Means

Beyond exhaustion, burnout manifests as cynicism and ineffectiveness. Using psychologist Christina Maslach’s framework, the authors classify five profiles on the burnout spectrum—from engaged to fully burned out. Mollie’s collapse in 2018 illustrates how adrenaline can mask exhaustion until the body and mind crash. Recognizing burnout early prevents the bus—or breakdown—from hitting you.

Slowing Down to 80 Percent

Living at “80 percent” capacity prevents overextension. This isn’t mediocrity—it’s sustainability. Mollie’s friend Miriam tested this by stopping work at 5:30 PM instead of pushing through. Nothing exploded. Her life did, however, become livable. Boundaries, as therapist Nedra Glover Tawwab notes, “save relationships.” Saying no is a skill of survival.

Redefining Worth

One of the book’s strongest arguments is that we’ve intertwined identity with output. Liz discovered this while caregiving and grieving: focusing on doing a “good enough” job instead of an exceptional one actually eased her anxiety. Drawing from Toni Morrison, they emphasize, “Your work won’t love you back.” Rebuilding self-worth means divorcing who you are from what you achieve.

Burnout as a Collective Issue

Workplace well-being can’t be solved through individual yoga classes. Teams and leaders must adopt collective recovery rituals—shared breaks, meeting-free days, and empathetic check-ins. As burnout researchers Emily and Amelia Nagoski note, completing the “stress cycle” is a social act: talk, dance, rest, connect. Fosslien and West Duffy encourage managers to measure balance, not hours.

Burnout recovery, they conclude, is less about quitting than realigning. Ask: Does my work reflect my values? Do I rest when my body whispers, or wait until it screams? By treating rest as the foundation of creativity rather than its enemy, you reclaim not just energy—but humanity.

“Perfectionism doesn’t make you feel perfect; it makes you feel inadequate.” With characteristic bluntness, this chapter dismantles the illusion that flawlessness equals worthiness. Fosslien and West Duffy reveal perfectionism as self-abuse disguised as virtue—a desperate strategy for control in an uncontrollable world.

The Roots of the Disease of ‘Should’

For many, perfectionism begins as a learned survival mechanism. Katja, for example, grew up trying to appease an abusive father, only to realize years later that her obsession with spotless counters was a continuation of that trauma. Perfectionism, they argue, offers temporary relief from fear—until it backfires, breeding anxiety, procrastination, and burnout.

Myths of Achievement

The perfectionist myth says that high standards lead to success. Research proves the opposite. Psychologist Thomas Greenspon found that anxiety about mistakes undermines performance. Perfectionists confuse their worth with outcomes, leading to paralysis. The opposite of perfectionism, the authors note, isn’t mediocrity—it’s self-compassion.

Healing Starts with Naming

Liz’s therapist used a story about Sophie the elderly cat to teach her that simply existing can be enough. Healing starts by naming your inner critic (Amber Rae calls hers “Grace”) and treating it like a nervous friend instead of an enemy. Shift from avoidance goals (“don’t mess up”) to approach goals (“share something honest”). State boundaries: “B+ work can change the world.”

Choosing the ‘Good Enough’ Life

By letting go of “always” and “never,” you open space for flexibility and belonging. As one reader realized, people love you for your humanity, not your flawlessness. Perfectionism isolates, but authenticity connects. The antidote is not to lower your standards—it’s to detach your self-worth from them. Doing so turns life from a test you can fail into an adventure you’re allowed to enjoy.

Despair, the authors admit, is the hardest of all big feelings. It’s the point where logic fails and hope evaporates. Mollie’s near-suicidal depression during chronic pain becomes the book’s emotional center, a raw depiction of surviving when you see no point in survival. Her story transforms the chapter into a compassionate blueprint for navigating the darkest nights of the soul.

Naming Despair

Despair isn’t simply sadness; it’s the layering of hopelessness, loneliness, helplessness, and self-blame. Researchers only recently defined it clinically, but Fosslien and West Duffy normalize it by describing how physical pain, guilt, and isolation can fuse into emotional paralysis. The first step toward healing is acknowledgment—telling yourself, “I feel this bad,” without shame.

Chunking Time and Holding On

When life becomes unbearable, survival shrinks to the next hour. Mollie adopted a technique called “chunking time,” setting goals as small as “make it to bedtime.” Over weeks, micro-actions—sending one text, showering, petting a dog—restored agency. She replaced “hope” with “faith”: the belief that meaning would eventually reemerge even if she couldn’t see it.

Reaching Out — and Filtering Out

Despair demands community. Talking with others who “get it” halves the burden. Mollie found solace in other chronic-pain survivors and a spiritual community. Yet the book cautions to avoid well-meaning “fixers” who say, “Look on the bright side.” Empathy heals; sympathy wounds. It’s okay to set boundaries or even step back from friends who don’t understand.

Meaning as Medicine

Finding purpose doesn’t justify suffering but transforms it. Whether through faith, service, or creativity, meaning stitches together brokenness. The Juneteenth story—of friends turning grief and racial exhaustion into a national movement—exemplifies despair transmuted into contribution. As Joan Chittister writes, “To go on going on, despite damage, is to discover what it means to be human.” Despair may visit, but it doesn’t get to stay when you choose meaning over nothingness.

The final chapter on regret ties every big feeling together. Regret, the authors suggest, is the emotion that teaches wisdom. It reveals the gap between your values and your actions, offering a chance to realign rather than self-punish. Liz’s regret over skipping her grandmother’s final trip becomes the parable for this lesson: regret is painful because it matters.

The Inescapability of Regret

The #NoRegrets motto is a myth. Studies show regret is one of humanity’s most common emotions, second only to love. It evolved as a survival tool—the brain’s way of learning what not to repeat. But modern regret often spirals into self-hate because we confuse reflection with rumination. The solution: look backward only to walk forward differently.

Six Faces of Regret

• Hindsight Regret — “If I knew then…” Accept incomplete information; you did your best.
• Alternate-Self Regret — Mourning lives you didn’t live; recognize fantasy’s distortions.
• Rushing-In Regret — Acting too soon; practice pausing before decisions.
• Dragging-Out Regret — Staying too long; acknowledge the courage it took to leave.
• Ignoring-Your-Instincts Regret — Silencing your gut; next time, speak up sooner.
• Self-Sabotage Regret — Hurting yourself to avoid vulnerability; seek compassion, not condemnation.

Transforming Regret into Growth

By reframing “I should have” as “What if I now…” you turn regret into forward motion. Write down what the regret revealed about your values. Did it teach loyalty, courage, presence, or restraint? Then act on that lesson. Over time, regret softens; as Liz’s mother tells her, being present for future goodbyes became the antidote.

Regret is proof that you cared, that your choices mattered. To feel it deeply is to be alive to life’s moral weight. In the end, Fosslien and West Duffy remind us, every big feeling—uncertainty, burnout, despair—is survivable when met with honesty, kindness, and perspective. Regret teaches us not how to erase the past, but how to honor it by living differently now.