5 Anxiety Insights from the Inside Out 2 Emotions
The Inside Out 2 emotions are sneaky good at holding up a mirror and helping us learn about ourselves.
5 Anxiety Insights from the Inside Out 2 Emotions
The Inside Out 2 emotions are sneaky good at holding up a mirror and helping us learn about ourselves.
Inside Out 2 was the highest grossing film of 2024. Since I saw it, I’ve been thinking about how entertaining and moving it was to me, but also how insightful it is (especially about anxiety). Here are the ideas I found most important in the film and how they can help us.
Spoiler alert! If you haven’t seen Inside Out 2, bookmark this post and read after viewing.
1) Fear and anxiety are different.
As explained in the movie, fear is responsible for all the scary stuff Riley can see, and anxiety is responsible for all the scary stuff Riley can’t see. Anxiety plans for the future.
Fear and anxiety are used interchangeably in conversation. Therapists, including me, often do it too. Perhaps because the experience of fear and anxiety can feel the same in our bodies. When we ask ourselves “what if…” and visualize possible negative futures, there is perceived danger in our systems, and our bodies react accordingly. Sidenote—this is the same reason visualization exercises can work so well for soothing anxiety. When we take time to picture and immerse ourselves in a detailed nature scene for example, it creates a sense of perceived safety, and we start to feel more relaxed physiologically.
So why do I bring this up? Differentiating between fear and anxiety helps us determine what’s most needed in response. Fear arises in reaction to an imminent threat, something that is happening right now. You spot a venomous snake on a trail. A pedestrian suddenly walks in front of your car. Your brain registers the sensory data and readies you to adjust in order to avoid danger. You back away from the snake. You slam on the brakes in your car. Of course, these are not choices you’re making but automatic and lighting-quick reflexes.
Fear usually prompts us to take an action to keep us safe (or to freeze). But this is not always the case with anxiety, despite the urge we might feel toward action. There are many times where the most appropriate response involves caring for the feeling of anxiety and our activated nervous systems, then assessing if there’s anything we actually need to do.
The film provides a great walk-through of this idea. At the end, Riley’s becomes anxious while waiting for the results of the team try-outs, and Anxiety starts running through dreaded scenarios. Joy gently interrupts and thanks her for her input. She asks “is that happening right now?” This question reminds Anxiety she’s lost in future-predictions and that Riley is actually safe in the moment. Anxiety is invited to think about what Riley has control over and what she doesn’t. They see that she can’t do anything now about the outcome of the tryouts. However, she can channel her energy and help Riley study for a test the next day. Before jumping into study mode, Anxiety takes a break in the form of sitting in a massage chair and drinking a cup of tea.
2) Our underlying beliefs can fuel anxiety.
Anxiety can be majorly influenced by beliefs we form from past experiences: about ourselves, about others, or the way the world works. Many of them are not even in our conscious awareness until we start giving voice to anxious feelings with someone else. Say, for instance, that your parent frequently became impatient or angry when you were learning something new. Unconsciously, a belief might crystallize inside about being “stupid,” incompetent, or unworthy when you make a mistake or something like “I’ll only be loved if I get things right.”
For Riley, she’s so excited and hopeful about playing on her school’s ice hockey team. When she reads the coach’s notes about her level of readiness for the team, and it doesn’t match her own, she’s crushed. Without anyone around to witness it or help her process that information, she concludes “I’m not good enough.” It echoes through her mind as she races around the rink, trying to prove her skill and escape the shame from that painful belief.
Beliefs may also form about what we think has to happen so we can be safe in the future. When we look closer, we often find they too have connections to the past (though the movie doesn’t really explore this point). Earlier in the story, Riley learns that her two best friends are going to a different high school than she is. She starts to feel the sadness of this loss, and Anxiety comes in shortly after. Riley sees the community and camaraderie of the girls on the Fire Hawks team and thinks to herself: “If I’m a Fire Hawk, I won’t be alone.”
From there, we hear various beliefs about what Anxiety believes it will take to become a Fire Hawk: she needs to detach herself from her old friends. She needs the team captain to like her. She needs to make 3 goals in the scrimmage to impress the coach. Anxiety channels a lot of energy into working toward these outcomes. She wants to prevent the painful prospect of Riley going through high school friendless and lonely. The way this unfolds inside of Riley mirrors a real process inside many of us. We can find ourselves locating the source of our safety on the outside — fixating on achieving specific results and believing they are the only way we’ll be okay.
When you notice you’re feeling anxious and spinning out, a good question to ask is: what am I believing right now?
3) “Don’t worry” doesn’t work.
After the core emotions get bottled up and catapulted to the back of the mind, they frantically look to Joy for what to do next. We then hear Joy’s fool-proof plan: “when we get back up there, I’ll say: don’t worry so much, Anxiety! And she’ll say, thanks Joy! I never thought of that.” I love how the film, in a comic and non-shaming way, highlights how common this is as an inner strategy to cope with anxiety.
Many times, we’re simply repeating the kind of response we’ve heard and subtly internalized from others. In these interactions, “don’t worry” ends up relieving the listener but doesn’t really help the person experiencing anxiety. It often leaves them feeling bad for having the emotion in the first place. If only it were as simple as just telling ourselves or others not to worry.
What if instead we were offered understanding or asked “what do you need?” The good new is we can actually do this internally with the part of ourselves that’s feeling so anxious.
4) Anxiety has a protective purpose.
Many of us, at times, experience anxiety as an obstacle or an annoyance. We might ignore it, try to mute it, or keep pushing through it by staying busy. In other words, we can treat it as an enemy inside without realizing it. The film beautifully shows that, despite the swirl of discomfort it kicks up, anxiety has a positive intent. From an evolutionary perspective, it’s actually beneficial that we experience anxiety (to try and avoid what we anticipate will bring us harm).
The trouble is, our anxiety isn’t always right in its predictions. In the “projections” scene, Anxiety works furiously to ensure Riley has thought of every possible worst case scenario. She urges on the Imagination Land team “we need to be prepared!” (As a side note, one of my favorite moments in the movie happens when Joy gets the other emotions to throw in possible positive outcomes, and Fear enthusiastically shouts “Riley wears kneepads!!”)
In the film’s climax, Anxiety works herself into a frenzy around the console, in which Joy intervenes. Anxiety falls to the floor exhausted, dejected, and tearful. She says “I’m sorry. I was just trying to protect her.”
I got very misty-eyed at this part. And I think it’s because recognizing the protective intention of anxiety leads you right into the heart of compassion toward it. Maya Phillips writes about being surprised by the empathy she felt toward her own anxiety in her NYTimes review.
I’ve seen this powerful moment happen in therapy sessions, and I cannot overstate the healing effects of this shift in attitude. When we make room for, get to know, and understand anxiety at a deeper level, there is a tremendous softening toward it. The possibility of a new and better relationship with it suddenly opens up.
5) None of us are defined by our emotions.
In the last struggle against Anxiety, Joy confronts her saying “you don’t get to choose who Riley is!” Anxiety concedes she’s right—“none of us do.” Riley is not an anxious person or a cheerful person. Anxiety and joy are not fixed identities. They are just the emotions she experiences. And the same is true of us.
We all have emotional polarities inside of us: happy and sad, anxious and confident, excited and bored, on and on. Our feelings come and go. This is not to say they don’t matter. I believe they absolutely do. It’s more to highlight that there’s a You who experiences all these feelings and has the ability to relate to your emotions in a conscious way. It takes mindful attention and practice, but it’s completely possible. It makes life so much more manageable, enjoyable, and rich. And it’s oftentimes the very crux of the work in therapy.
How would it change things to see anxiety as trying to help you? What might it be like to have a relationship with your anxiety?
If you’re ready to get support with anxiety, schedule a free consultation today.
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Elizabeth Dausch is an integrative therapist in Oakland, CA offering skilled support with breakups, dating, anxiety, and relationship issues. Her approach incorporates Internal Family Systems, somatic, and mindfulness practices, and she tailors therapy to each client's unique needs. Learn more about Elizabeth.
She can also be reached at (510) 683-5858 or elizabeth.dausch@mindfulcenter.org.
Why Ignoring Feelings Harms Kids and Adults: Discover the Antidote
What I want to challenge here is the claim: “kids need to learn that feelings are unreliable.”
The Wall Street Journal recently ran an article called “Stop Constantly Asking Your Kids How They Feel” by Abigail Shrier. My letter to the editor was published the following week. I thought many of the ideas in the original article (especially on ignoring feelings) deserved further discussion so I decided to write the following piece as a response.
I actually do agree with one of Shrier’s core points, that making happiness the ultimate goal for oneself or one’s children may be a failed enterprise from the start. It’s a wonderful feeling, but it comes and goes like many other emotions. It’s seductively sold in the marketplace every day with the unspoken promise that you’ll really have it once you get that skincare product, iphone upgrade, new subscription, or nicer car.
But suffering is part of the human condition. As many others have proposed, seeking meaning and purpose is a deeper, more realistic project for life. You can’t feel happy all the time, but you can experience more lasting satisfaction, peace, and contentment from using your time in ways you find worthwhile and align with your values.
I also agree that asking kids how they’re feeling all the time could get annoying for them and might serve adults more than children. Constant checking-in could be an attempt to assuage the parent’s anxiety. If children sense this, they may say they’re fine as an unconscious way of taking care of their parent.
What I want to challenge here is the claim: “kids need to learn that feelings are unreliable.”
I think there’s great nuance in this statement and a lot of room for misapplication. By context, I understood that the author means feelings are unreliable as the basis for decisions and daily behavior. Sometimes, I think this is wise counsel. But I don’t recommend it as a guiding principle for life.
Yes, giving in to every impulse or acting on every emotion would prevent the cultivation of discipline and could violate your values. You wouldn’t give your child a free pass not to do their homework because they feel dread and boredom. You wouldn’t scream at your irritating co-worker in a meeting at the first flash of anger. You wouldn’t want to make a very important decision in a highly dysregulated and unsettled state. And, of course, suppression is extremely useful to check our aggressive impulses. Most of us don’t want to cause lasting harm or put ourselves behind bars. On the other hand,
there are serious costs to ignoring feelings.
For example, a woman is entangled in an escalating domestic violence situation. Her fear is a vital arrow sign toward pursuing safety. A successful lawyer feels empty, exhausted, and frustrated as a result of the long hours and expectations of their firm. Someone may be so focused on pleasing the people around them that they never ask themselves how genuine is their ‘yes’ or ‘no’ to requests from others. Another everyday example comes in the form of a defense known as displacement. Your boss gives you harsh feedback and criticism at work. Without having processed it or attending to the emotional effect it had on you, you come home and find yourself criticizing your partner.
If you grow up believing your "unhappy" feelings are untrustworthy and routinely dismiss them, you’ll miss important information and invitations they contain.
You may never leave the abusive relationship. You may never pursue a job with better hours and healthier work culture, which allow you to spend more time with your family. You may find yourself acting superficially in relationships and feeling quietly resentful because you haven’t given credence to your own wants and needs. You can get caught in painful dynamics with your spouse because you haven’t taken time to acknowledge, deal with, and communicate your feelings directly.
If I could revise Shrier’s statement, it would be: your first mental conclusion from an emotion can be unreliable (not the emotion). This might just sound like a matter of semantics, but I believe it’s a significant difference. Someone says something insensitive or rude to you. You think: “This guy! What an asshole.” It’s perfectly natural to be impacted by the interaction, to feel hurt, angry, perhaps ashamed after the encounter. And, when we look beyond the surface at the other person, their regrettable behavior might be more accurately understood as thoughtlessness, an unconscious defense mechanism, preoccupation with or denial of something hard going on in their lives, etc. rather than ill intent toward you. In other words, when we hold our first thought or judgment lightly, we can often find a “why” to empathize with, a more human and 3-dimensional version of the person (whom we initially defined by their worst moment of the week).
Consider another situation. It’s a Saturday morning, and you’re in the thick of a depressive episode. You have so little energy. Doing laundry may be a herculean task. You don’t feel like socializing or doing much of anything, so you decide you won’t. And while you shouldn't hold yourself to the same level of activity you might have on a normal day, taking a bit of ‘opposite action’ is advised to relieve your symptoms: taking a shower, getting outside for a walk in your neighborhood, watching a movie, texting a loved one: “could use a check-in today.” Acknowledge that the feelings and symptoms of depression are here like a weather system. Don’t force yourself to go to the beach when it’s raining, metaphorically speaking. But freezing all activity when you don’t feel like doing anything won’t be medicinal either.
The prescription I'd offer for the everyday is to practice consciously accepting "negative" emotions instead of ignoring them.
I’ve often found the saying “what you resist persists” to be true in my life and for my clients. When you push feelings down, they don’t actually go away. It’s more like whack-a-mole. They just find another way to pop up somewhere else. By accepting your feelings, you’re simply living in sync with reality and what’s happening inside of you. Accepting does not mean fixating, ruminating, or “wallowing.” In fact, accepting difficult feelings and taking a compassionate attitude toward them helps the fleeting ones move through more effectively and helps us discern when action might be needed.
I’d encourage you to check out Dr. Kristin Neff and her research on this resilience building practice of self-compassion. Far from keeping us ill, stuck, or lazy, this stance equips you to ride the rougher waves of life. Conversely, self-criticism keeps us more contracted and risk-averse. Practicing these skills of acceptance and self-compassion, we also build emotional tolerance. You show yourself by experience that you can survive painful emotions. It instills a growing confidence that you can handle future challenges. Not only will a child be better skilled to face the hardships in their own life, but will probably be an invaluable friend to someone who’s grieving, who’s received an unexpected medical diagnosis, or who’s going through a tough time. In those moments, what’s needed most is steady, loving presence and acceptance, not ignoring or putting a positive spin on it.
Lastly, I’d like to challenge a common habit many of us have: placing value judgments on emotions. I would argue that feelings themselves have no moral value. We don’t have much control over when they arise and are felt in our bodies. Instead, it’s what we do in response or reactivity that we can examine through a moral framework. One of my clients came to this realization not long ago. She recognized how she had been conflating anger and her oftentimes reactive behavior. Over time, she had implicitly drawn the conclusion that anger itself is destructive and bad. In creative ways, she began making more internal space for the experience of anger (and in turn, the more vulnerable emotions it typically masks like hurt, overwhelm, shame, and fear). She began differentiating between feeling and action. She started to skillfully work with the vital energies of her feelings and take intelligent next steps when needed: having that uncomfortable conversation leading to more understanding and connectedness, giving herself 5 minutes after a tense work meeting to practice a breathing exercise, or writing in a journal.
When we disown our feelings in favor of productivity, achievement, and social pressures, there’s a predictable deadening effect on our spirits and psyches. Our emotions are essential to who we are as human beings, and I believe they deserve to be handled as the complex phenomena they really are.
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Elizabeth Dausch is an integrative therapist in Oakland, CA offering skilled support with breakups, dating, anxiety, and relationship issues. Her approach incorporates Internal Family Systems, somatic, and mindfulness practices, and she tailors therapy to each client's unique needs. Learn more about Elizabeth or schedule a free consultation.
She can also be reached at (510) 683-5858 or elizabeth.dausch@mindfulcenter.org.