Once upon a time, in a dimly lit room in Spain, a group of researchers invited undergrads to stare at human faces—angry, happy, scared, and blank.

As any introvert will tell you, this sounds like a worst-case party scenario. But this wasn’t hazing. This was science.

And what they found may help us understand why some people can watch your face twist in fear and feel absolutely... nothing.

In the grand tradition of things that feel spiritual but are mostly about dust, Marie Kondo taught us that clutter is a kind of existential despair in IKEA form.

But now, in the post-pandemic world of couples trapped together with their Amazon Prime regrets and unspoken grudges, a new idea is quietly emerging: Emotional Clutter.

It’s sorta the love child of trauma psychology and home organization.

It's the emotional echo of that junk drawer you keep meaning to clean but haven't, because it contains both a dead battery and a painful memory.

And it might be one of the most honest metaphors we have for what long-term relationships feel like after two or three fiscal years of silent sulking.

What Is Emotional Clutter?

You love each other. You really do.

You both even go to therapy. You read The Body Keeps the Score together (well, she did the book, he watched the YouTube summary with dramatic voiceover).

You say things like “regulation” and “somatic” with alarming fluency.

And still—you keep tripping over each other like two people trying to dance in different time zones.

Welcome to the world of trauma mismatch, where your early wounds don’t just coexist in your relationship—they collide, with sparks, sobs, and occasional ghosting.

What Is Trauma Mismatch?

“My partner needs me to praise them just right before they can stop sulking.”

Welcome to the most emotionally exhausting duet in modern love.

This isn’t just interpersonal dysfunction—it’s a cultural artifact, a relational survival tactic born in the pressure cooker of American narcissism.

It’s called narcissistic co-regulation, and it may be the defining emotional dance of our time.

What Is Narcissistic Co-Regulation?

In the eternal battle between good and evil—or at least between honesty and the little fibs we tell to keep our reputations polished—science may have found an unexpected ally: narcissists themselves.

Yup, you read that right.

A recent study published in Personality and Social Psychology Bulletin suggests that people high in narcissism, long believed to be ethical lost causes, can in fact be nudged toward honesty.

The secret?

A psychological “vaccine” that doesn’t come in a syringe but in the form of cleverly crafted messages. Instead of poking the arm, it pokes the ego.

What happens when dominance meets detachment? Inside the minds of men who mistake victory for permission.

Imagine you’re a 21-year-old college guy. You just crushed another dude in a competitive task. You're flying high on the fumes of dominance. Then someone asks, "Want to share a video with this woman you don’t know—one who’s clearly said she dislikes sexual content?"

Now pause. Your answer, according to new research, might say a lot about who you are—and whether your idea of “winning” is less about success and more about control.

A recent experimental study in Aggressive Behavior (Hoffmann, Verona, & Hruza, 2024) reveals something disconcerting: heterosexual men with high levels of interpersonal-affective psychopathic traits—marked by emotional coldness, dominance, and a lack of empathy—were significantly more likely to engage in sexually aggressive behavior after winning a competition against another man.

That’s right. It wasn’t losing.

It wasn’t bruised ego or revenge. It was victory—sweet, power-drunk victory—that lit the fuse.

By now, most of us have encountered at least one human being who, when given a social moment that wasn't about them, simply withered like a houseplant in a closet.

If you haven't, you may want to gently peer into a mirror and ask yourself if your coworkers are truly laughing with you.

Enter narcissism—the spicy human flavor that’s somewhere between charming confidence and grandiose theater.

Narcissists, according to the DSM and your cousin Kevin, tend to believe they are God’s gift to dinner parties.

They yearn for admiration the way cats yearn for warm laptops. But recent research has added a physiological twist to this familiar plot: they don’t just like talking about themselves—they practically light up.

For anyone who’s ever tried to take the edge off with a little weed, only to end up googling “Can you die from a too-fast heartbeat?” at 2:00 a.m.—you’re not alone.

The relationship between cannabis and anxiety is, well… complicated.

While some people swear by medical marijuana as a natural anxiety remedy, others find that it does the exact opposite: increases heart rate, magnifies worry, and launches them into existential dread about whether the barista actually did judge them for their oat milk order.

So which is it?

Can cannabis help with anxiety—or does it just help some people feel better while making others more anxious?

And what does the science say about medical marijuana for anxiety disorders?

Let’s take a deep breath (no toking required yet), and explore.

As a couples therapist, I often tell clients that gossip is the social glue we love to hate. It feels icky when it’s about us, but strangely bonding when we’re doing it about others.

So when new research out of Self & Identity revealed that some folks actually enjoy being gossiped about—especially when the gossip is negative—I had to dig deeper.

It turns out, narcissistic men may not just tolerate gossip—they prefer it over being ignored.

That’s right.

According to five studies conducted by Andrew H. Hales, Meltem Yucel, and Selma C. Rudert, most people still dislike being the subject of gossip.

Once upon a time, a man fell in love with a woman.

He called her his queen, his moon, his reason for waking up in the morning.

He wrote her love letters in the form of text messages, albeit mostly "U up?" and "Miss u," but still—passion was passion.

And then, the years rolled in, like a sluggish tide carrying the driftwood of forgotten anniversaries, emotional absences, and an increasing number of nights spent staring into the comforting glow of a smartphone.

What happened? Maybe you’re wondering if you are merely a domestic fixture, one step removed from the fridge or the cat, instead of a person he actually values. Social science, thank God, has some answers.

Let’s peruse the grand buffet of passive-aggressive relationship tactics; there’s ghosting (poof, they’re gone), breadcrumbing (a Hansel and Gretel nightmare), and stonewalling (the emotional equivalent of a medieval fortress).

But somewhere between ghosting and stonewalling lies a lesser-known but equally maddening behavior: greywalling.

Defining Greywalling: The Cold Shoulder With a Pulse

What is Greywalling?

Greywalling is the deliberate act of responding with minimal engagement, offering just enough acknowledgment to avoid outright stonewalling, but withholding any real emotional connection.

It’s the emotional equivalent of someone turning off the Wi-Fi on your video call—you're still there, but the connection is useless.

Unlike stonewalling, which is a complete shutdown, greywalling keeps the interaction technically alive..

Is there a link between marital conflict and cardiovascular health?

For years, we've known that stress is bad for the heart.

But what if the most damaging stressor in your life isn't your job, financial concerns, or even your in-laws—but your marriage?

A study of 1,200 older married adults (ages 57-85) led by sociologist Hui Liu at Michigan State University found that people in unhappy marriages, particularly women, have an increased risk of heart disease compared to those in satisfying marriages (Liu et al., 2016).

These findings aren't just a warning sign for those in rocky relationships; they reveal a critical intersection between mental and physical health.