Many of us have quieter interoception — the sense that notices hunger, pain and what the body is doing — and some of us are alexithymic, where the feeling is there but the name for it is not. So “just notice what you are feeling” does not get us far. Here is the model I use instead, built to be read from the outside in.
An emotion is our whole experience of our body’s response to — and integrated with — our understanding of ourselves in our context.
The Model
The model consists of two parts:
(1) My understanding of myself in my context is my self-concept — what I believe about my abilities.
(2) My read of the situation, shaped by my history of similar ones.
Combined, these understandings create expectations, and my body responds, or does not, to those expectations.
Darwin argued that the best-adapted survive. Emotions are a shortcut that lets us respond fast, so the distress emotions are about surviving, and the positive ones are about what becomes available once we are safe: thriving.
A challenge is something I must meet. A threat is a challenge that also endangers me. Which one I face depends on what the situation demands and what I believe I have.
For instance, walking down Acland Street, a stranger yelling at me incites fear; when I am confident in handling the situation, the same stranger incites anger; and the same stranger, who turns out to be a friend messing about, incites excitement.
Same event, three emotions.
The Emotional States
Excitement: A challenge, and I am safe. Tense, fast heart and breathing, butterflies, attention on the challenge. This is play, and play builds resources.
Calm and boredom: Relaxed body, no threat, broad attention. The difference is whether I am content here or looking for something more.
Disgust: A slower threat — contamination, not pursuit. A pull away, the face closing entry points, attention on the thing and staying there. Memory for it is unusually strong.
Fight (anger): You threaten me, and I can take you on. Same activation, but a knot in the stomach — holding food and energy for later. Attention narrows onto you.
Flight (fear): I cannot take you on, but I can get away. Butterflies instead of a knot: lighter is faster. Attention narrows onto the threat and sweeps for escape routes.
Freeze: I cannot fight or run, but I might not be seen. Tense but still, breathing restrained, attention locked onto the threat.
Fawn: I cannot fight, escape or hide — I need you to give me safety. Much less activation, attention on the other person.
Flop: There is no hope of safety. Muscles loosen, drive to move disappears, attention goes broad. Hopelessness is the load-bearing part here; remove it and what is left is boredom or calm.
When you cannot name a feeling…
Start anywhere else in the model and work towards the emotion.
1. What am I expecting here — what are the actual thoughts?
2. Am I activated or deactivated?
3. Which way am I facing, towards or away?
4. Do I have any agency here?
These four answers will get you close, without needing to feel your way in.
Then, if the emotion isn’t one that serves you, ask the following question to turn the unhelpful experience into a helpful one:
What can I change about my thoughts (thought challenging, narrative rescripting), body (breathing strategies) or direction of movement (taking a growth mindset to stressors)?
Notes & Citations
Note: This is Aaron’s personal/clinical working model, offered to give people a framework through which to understand emotion and experience, it is not based in specific theory or research evidence, though drawn on many theories and much research evidence.
Notes from wider research:
- This model sits in appraisal territory, currently the best-supported cross-emotion frame (Yeo & Ong, 2024).
- The popular “five Fs” diagram is not a validated taxonomy — the’ ‘freeze‘ mentioned in this article is the ‘alert, ready-to-move’ kind, which research separates from tonic immobility and collapse which I haven’t specifically discussed.
- All of this produces physiological stress, and sustained stress has real costs. Kelly McGonigal’s TED talk on reappraising stress is fifteen minutes well spent: reading your racing heart as your body equipping you, rather than as proof you are unsafe, changes what it costs you.