This method might feel a little childish, but it’s been useful a bunch of times for me.

Sometimes I’m unable to name the emotion I’m feeling, but I draw the monster and I ask the monster what it needs from me (mine so often ends up being a nasty hybrid of shame and fear), and something surprising comes back. A few years ago, the message came back that I needed to tell the truth a lot more radically. I have also heard back that I need to rest in a real way (i.e., no TV, sugar, or distractions allowed; just quiet and breathing and going toward the discomfort), or that I need to STOP resting (the monster sometimes knows I have more capacity for things than I want to tell myself I do).

When emotions won’t move on, it’s often because they need something. Trying to ignore them or smother them or tell them to go away — even when they say MEAN THINGS to you — isn’t going to work until you have the capacity to LISTEN.

I find that comics and cartoons help me visualize this kind of thing, especially when it seems impossible. Emotions live in our bodies (I honestly did not learn this until I was 30. Until then I thought everything was in my head. And I didn’t acknowledge that my head was actually a part of my body ALL ALONG.).

Moving toward discomfort to see what it has to say to me has been a game-changer. It is also fun to draw emotions monsters, so please feel free to do that with your free time if you want to! It’s like lesbian pillow talk meets D&D, and I recommend it.

Sophie Lucido Johnson is a cartoonist for The New Yorker and the author and artist of the books Many Love and Love Without Sex. Follow her on Instagram and subscribe to her Substack, aptly named You Are Doing A Good Enough Job.