The hidden power of naming what hurts & rekindling hope

I consciously limit my time on social media, but over the past few months it feels almost impossible to log in without being hit with something heavy — violence, injustice, corruption, or simply more evidence of how broken things feel in the world.
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I last wrote about our need to seek out the good and curate our feeds for positivity, yet even with those intentions it’s been a struggle. And despite all my usual self‑care efforts I’ve still found myself in a funk. Less patient with my kids, more tired and unmotivated, and forgetting to savor the small things. And I’ve been hard on myself too. It’s humbling to feel stuck when you’re someone who understands the science behind “taking in the good.”

Last week, though, my husband shared a post that helped me finally name what I think's been simmering beneath the surface amid the heaviness of the world: hopelessness. And naming it has been surprisingly powerful — I’ve felt lighter, almost freed, ever since.

As Dr. Dan Siegel teaches, “name it to tame it.” Labeling our emotions reduces their intensity. And shifting from “I am” to “I feel” — “I am anxious” to “I feel anxious” — creates space, reminding us that emotions are experiences we have, not identities we are.

And there’s neuroscience behind it: verbalizing or writing down feelings (aka affect labeling) activates our rational prefrontal cortex and calms our emotional amygdala, the brain's fear center. Naming emotions allows our thinking brain to re-engage, gain perspective, and choose a healthier response.

Of course, this skill depends on a few things: emotional vocabulary, self‑awareness, and a healthy physiological state.

On emotional vocabulary: did you know on average, adults in the U.S. can only identify and accurately label three emotions - happiness, sadness, and anger? In her book Atlas of the Heart, Brené Brown maps 87 distinct emotions, which we need for better emotional granularity. The more specific we can be about what we’re feeling, the better we become at regulating those emotions. 

And around our physical state: we all know how easy it is to be overcome by emotions or lose control when we’re sleep‑deprived, hungry, stressed, or lonely.  The fundamentals always matter — nutrition, sleep, movement, and connection. Emotional regulation is deeply tied to our physical health.

And when it comes to hopelessness, self‑compassion is another cornerstone. As I’ve written before, self-compassion promotes emotional resilience and regulation by fostering kindness, common humanity, and mindfulness. Self-compassion combats negative thinking patterns that can lead to hopelessness and boosts motivation for change.

I’m still working to shift from self‑criticism to practicing Dr. Kristin Neff’s self‑compassion break, taking a moment to pause and acknowledge the difficulty by saying:

• This is a moment of suffering.
• Suffering is a part of life.
• May I be kind to myself.

So what do we do with this hopelessness? In a timely newsletter from leading workplace well-being expert Jen Fisher titled “Let's Talk About Hopelessness”, she reinforces the power of naming our hopelessness and the problems we create when pretending we feel otherwise. She also reminds us that hope is a skill, not an emotion. As she writes, “Hope is what you do, not what you feel. It’s the actions you take even when—especially when—optimism feels out of reach.” 

And perhaps the most important reminder she offers is that connection matters. We have to find our people - the ones who haven’t given up hope. And we need to open up and be willing to name the hard things. Strong social ties are a critical factor for our mental and physical health and are also associated with higher civic engagement, helping transforming hopeless in to collective action.

Regulating and naming our emotions is a practice. Hopelessness may still visit, but it can’t take over when we can name it. surround ourselves with people who help us carry it (thank you Albert), and take action. And as Maria Popova shared, we need to remember that there is much goodness in the world and that evil only prevails when we mistake it for the norm. So let’s keep showing up for our well-being, for one another, and with small actions that strengthen the fair, safe, and humane world most of us long for. 

In my next post, I'll share some small actions of hope that we can take. Until then, if you’re in a season of heaviness I hope you know you’re not alone. I’m right here with you, naming it, tending to it, and taking the next small, hopeful step. 

What is one small act of hope you can take today?