You don't need to “control” what you feel. It's not like you even could.

You have probably already heard about the supposed importance of, or the possibility of, “managing emotions,” and even about “emotional intelligence.” Perhaps you have thought that the idea behind all this must be positive or useful for someone. But what exactly does “useful” mean in this context? In work related to human mental health, nothing is obvious. Let us first separate a few things. On the one hand, there is the person who experiences the various emotions that are part of human nature—fear, anger, sadness, happiness, shame, guilt, envy, pity, disgust, love, or tenderness. On the other hand, there are all the other people around the person who is feeling them. But then, what do we mean by “nature”?

From a biological point of view, it is not possible to escape the body’s natural functioning, and emotions are a physiological and communicative process present in many animal species, even if they manifest differently depending on the species. Certainly, the emotions of a cat or a monkey are much more complex if we compare them to those of a butterfly or a gecko, and each case is particular. Likewise, each animal species has its own physiology, and not all live in groups or need to interact or communicate with other individuals in order to survive.

If you are ready to remember that we are a social species, with a physiology and a place in the food chain, you will understand that it is no more possible to control blood flow near an aneurysm than it is to simply decide not to feel anger from 7 a.m. to 5 p.m. By the term “physiology,” we need to understand that something has a function, and in a specific way. Emotions are a natural physiological phenomenon.

On the one hand, there are some emotions that push the body to move toward other people, places, or things through attitudes, actions, or behaviours. On the other hand, there are others that generate the opposite tendency, distancing the person from the object of the emotion. In psychological terminology, there is the concept of a stimulus, which is sometimes “appetitive” and sometimes “aversive”; the idea is the same. It is worth noting that the word “emotion” itself already carries the idea of “motion,” referring to a purpose or direction, from Latin movere, meaning movement.

However, regardless of the direction of emotional movement, emotions can be positive (or pleasant) or negative (unpleasant). In one case, a human being or an animal will move in a direction of approach or repetition if the consequence is something pleasant: as with joy, love, humour, calmness, relief, and so on. Alternatively, they may move away to withdraw from or eliminate something unpleasant: this is the case of fear, disgust, shame, guilt, and so forth.

In the case of sadness, general emotional exhaustion, or perplexity, the movement will tend toward stillness or even withdrawal, as a consequence of largely unpleasant sensations. In the case of anger, however, the “desire” will often be for a movement of approach within the context of a highly “negative” emotional state.

To “control yourself” so you don't end up hurting someone else... just like someone else who did that? Who?

So, emotions are natural functions and movements of the animal kingdom that, in the case of humans, exist to allow us to deal with the environments of socialization and interaction within human culture. Our emotions exist to signal to our minds—through changes in the body and physical sensations—how our relationship with the environment is unfolding. Let us agree that the natural and cultural environment in which human beings live can sometimes be threatening.

Emotions serve to prioritize and to prompt rapid action.

All emotions activate complex anatomical and physiological mechanisms, and each of them compels the body to react in a particular way. The same is true of any bodily physiology. Think about how it would be impossible to convince your body—through thought alone—that your leg did not break, that there is no pain or inflammation, that there will be no consequences, and that you can go straight to work as if nothing had happened.

In the case of emotions, even when there is little bodily energy available, or when there are many other matters demanding attention, once a person feels one of them, it cannot simply be ignored, nor can life continue as though nothing had changed. If we consider that each emotion has a distinct physiology because it serves a different function, we can think of an example: anger. Anger—an emotion that is very difficult to ignore—creates in the person a need to destroy the other; that is, to approach them in order to somehow drive them away. Regardless of other paths taken to avoid a catastrophe, what matters is that anger mobilizes strategies to prevent the harm that the other intends—or seems to intend—or to prevent them from having the same opportunity in the future. We might agree that anger is related to interpretations of external ill intent, present and future risk, and to preventing pointless energy waste.

It is similar with joy, which generates a movement of approach and repetition, but this time because of positive sensations. Now, what might you imagine about the function served by sadness, where the movement seems to drop or slow down? Why would someone want to stay at home, withdrawn, not doing very much, not socializing, thinking about a single set of concerns, while being judged by a society that values high performance, productivity, and high consumption? Which of the following answers do you find most plausible?

a. Sadness has made the body ill and requires that you be mistreated or destroyed by others who are stronger.

b. Sadness “wants” you not to spend your energy on things that are not urgent. One urgent matter it “wants” you to think about is understanding a recent event that caused it, such as the uncertainty and emptiness following a loss or the closing of a chapter.

c. Sadness appeared because your body needs to stay quiet so as not to disturb anyone, nor signal your presence in a dangerous environment.

Emotions are “analyses” that our physiology carries out in order to reassess how bodily energy will be used, and for what purpose, insofar as this is important for self-preservation. You may have thought that option a is illogical or contradictory, that c relates more to fear, and that b might perhaps be an interpretation that makes sense. The body is not an infinite container of strength or physical and mental energy, and it does not make these capacities available forever—nor primarily according to our conscious preferences or ideals. We may spend a great deal of energy on things we consider “good,” whether because they are enjoyable or because they seem morally appropriate, but if they are not what truly protects us in a biological sense, the body will conserve its resources.

Through the senses and through emotions, we understand which dangers and which possibilities exist for survival, and we also communicate to others what we know about this—sometimes through gestures, sometimes through body postures, and sometimes through sounds. In a social context, the biological purpose of communication is for the group to survive and support one another. In the human case, we have spoken language, which in theory has the potential to be a tool for group survival.

It is not possible to disguise what the body tells us we are meant to feel.

It is important to analyze the self-protective function of each emotion independently, but it is also important to understand why emotions can be “read” from outside. Each emotion relies on particular parts of the body—organs, muscles, and bodily functions—that together prepare specific states that are visible to others and carry social meaning: freezing and becoming unresponsive, smiling, clenching one’s fists, or unconsciously adopting a discouraged posture, and so on.

Returning to the case of fear, it can actually be beneficial for my neighbours to know that I am terrified by something that has just happened in my backyard. They will know from my facial expression, my voice, and my posture that something happened. Because they live next door to me, the same thing could happen to them, and they need to know in time to take appropriate action. For my benefit as well, they will be compelled to come help me, at least to some extent.

Can you imagine what it communicates to others when someone has an expression, gestures, a certain tone of voice, or posture of tenderness or love? Will the person who sees this become tense and prepare to take action with great force in their arms and very rapid breathing, or will their body activate a physiology of calmness that allows them to feel at ease, ready to smile, socialize, and cooperate? Remember that socialization and communication exist in nature as strategies for the survival of the collective.

Except in cases of dramaturgy or of an active intention to deceive—which itself still serves a social purpose—everyone can usually tell when someone is angry, tired, disgusted, happy, or sad. Certainly, not everyone is a great actor or actress, and the person we try to deceive is not always someone else. However, at the level of evolutionary dynamics, by paying attention to signals, almost anyone can perceive—at least to some extent—when someone else is facing a problem or when they have identified a good opportunity for survival and well-being: by observing their emotions.

We know, then, that information is important for making decisions and that emotions are a language for decoding important information. But why would someone need to know that you feel unwell or dissatisfied? What kinds of information would be contained in that knowledge, and for whose benefit would it be useful? And why is it that this question tends to generate feelings of apprehension, shame, and distrust? Could that be why you gave up speaking with a professional or with someone close, or with your support network?

Human sociability in culture—and the risks to life that individuals face in human societies today—are different from those experienced by our prehistoric ancestors. We can understand that life today is much busier, full of noise, people, differences, possessions, obligations, laws, bills, inequalities, and so on, and that there is indeed less willingness, time, and resources for people to support one another with real care. Even so, it can be dangerous to lose vitality or the conditions necessary for living when we speak, try to demonstrate, and try to believe in something different from what our emotions indicate us.

As a practical example related to fear, we may even think it is very good to be able to work like crazy, beyond working hours, delivering more than what is asked of us, and very quickly, so that we can “grow” in a company—or at least not lose our job. The body, however, does not evaluate the reality of such wear and tear as something convenient. It will shut down the flow of available energy for this, once the level of stress and physical and emotional discomfort stops disappearing after the basic routine of rest, and once physical and mental symptoms begin to appear. Our body “does not care” very much if we later feel guilt or helplessness for not producing according to society's culture of high productivity.

It is not sustainable for us to always appear self-sufficient and capable of everything on our own. What is often called “emotional control” may in fact be very harmful for the person who practices it and entirely disadvantageous. In fact, if this kind of “control” is advantageous at all, it would only be so for the people around the emotionally affected person, since—put plainly—they "are not troubled." A person who constantly holds back what they feel may not disturb anyone, but in that case, no one realizes that it might be necessary to make adjustments and efforts to protect life in common, beginning with the person who is affected at that moment.

So, what are we, humans, supposed to do when living in society?

In contexts of intense pressure and insufficient social support, it is understandable why it may seem undesirable to feel things that make us vulnerable, or that could push us to act against our own self-hostile survival strategies—especially when we belong to a society that can be very demanding and hostile. But often we do not only need practical things in life, such as rest, money, time, medication, and so on. Frequently, at the level of individual needs, emotions also inform us internally about what is harming us or about our dangerous loss of autonomy and freedom. Sometimes it is up to us to pay attention to our own expressiveness, posture, symptoms, rhythms, vitality, gaze, reactions, gestures, tone of voice, surroundings, dreams—or even their absence…

I invite you to talk with me about what you feel… and about what this text stirred in you.

Let's talk!