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By the time she passed away on Tuesday, Dolly Parton had become an American saint, celebrated not just for giving us immortal songs like “Jolene” and “9 to 5,” but for philanthropic work that provided hundreds of millions of free books to children and proved instrumental in the development of a COVID vaccine. That wasn’t always her reputation, though. While her songwriting prowess was always respected within the country-music community, for much of her career, the public knew Parton most for the cartoonishly feminine figure she cut—platinum wigs, costumes sagging under the weight of rhinestones, nails for days, the bustline that launched a thousand punchlines. As she once put it: “A lot of men thought I was as silly as I looked.”

So it makes perfect sense that, among her various and sundry contributions to American culture, Parton was an uncredited producer of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Under the auspices of Sandollar Productions, which she founded with her then-manager Sandy Gallin, the music icon and entrepreneur supported not just the cult-classic, Y2K-era teen drama series, but also the 1992 feature film on which it was based. She was still on board decades later, when Hulu was developing a Buffy reboot with director Chloé Zhao. (It has since been scrapped.) Parton’s involvement with the franchise has only been widely known in recent years. “I thought Buffy the Vampire Slayer was a wonderful little show,” she told Andy Cohen in a 2021 Watch What Happens Live appearance. “I was very, very proud to be part of that.” Star Sarah Michelle Gellar has said that, while Parton wasn’t present on set, she honored the cast with gifts and praise.

Well, of course Buffy resonated with Dolly. In many ways, she was the real-life equivalent of Buffy Summers. Creator Joss Whedon (a man whose relationship to feminism is notoriously complicated at best) conceived the character as an empowered antidote to the hot, scantily clad victim types of 1980s slasher flicks. He has said that he intended the original Buffy to be “one of these crappy, low-budget movies,” but one that “had a feminist agenda, had females in it who were people.” Instead of being saved by some heroic boyfriend, the busty, blonde cheerleader lead (played by Kristy Swanson in the film) “would have to get her own back.” Maybe Buffy looked like the stereotypical high school bimbo. But, especially in a TV series that paired the character’s battles against supernatural baddies with mundane teenage rites of passage, she also had intelligence, resourcefulness, depth, and, of course, a once-in-a-generation gift for slaying vampires. Being underestimated based on her beauty often put her at an advantage.

As far as I know, Dolly Parton never staked any bloodsucker stalking a suburban California cul-de-sac—though I wouldn’t be terribly surprised to learn, amid the outpouring of fond reminiscences her death inspired, that she had. But she was certainly smart and independent and compassionate, all traits that people rarely acknowledge in women they would rather treat as empty-headed sex objects. Her superpower had nothing to do with vampires and everything to do with her staggering talent. She also understood that she could make sexist assumptions about her appearance work in her favor. “By the time they think that I don’t know what’s going on,” Parton joked, “I done got the money and gone.” I have no doubt that she possessed the perspicacity to make a connection between her place in the public consciousness and Buffy’s. Maybe the character’s popularity even helped prime pop culture to fully appreciate a certain silent producer, a woman for whom breasts and brains were never mutually exclusive.

Paying for a fancy coffee, a trip to the cinema, or a dinner out can trigger a burst of happiness—that is, before the guilt sets in.

Nearly three-quarters of Americans said they feel guilty when they spend money on things that give them a little joy, according to a new Cost of Life Today report by Ally Bank.

The YouGov survey, which polled more than 5,000 American adults, found that financial pressures are making happiness harder to afford, with the average American adult scoring 54.2 out of 100 on Ally’s “Joy Index,” which measures people’s ability to afford and prioritize happiness, how frequently they experience it, and how resilient it remains under financial stress.

The report comes during a cost-of-living crisis that has squeezed household budgets around the world. In the U.S., home prices have risen around 45% since 2020, while outstanding credit card debt remained at near record highs at $1.26 trillion in the second quarter of this year. Those pressures have intensified as President Donald Trump’s war against Iran has disrupted shipping through the Strait of Hormuz, driving up gas prices and the costs of fertilizers and other commodities.

Affordability appears to be a defining concern for American voters, with both progressive Democratic candidates and Republicans campaigning on promises to lower everyday costs.

Why rising costs are making Americans feel guilty about spending

Rising costs are creating a squeeze on how much people can enjoy their non-necessary purchases.

Although 68% of respondents report spending on "joy" every month, just 15% said that joyful purchases and experiences are easy to afford, and only 20% said it is easy to afford essential expenses.

Seventy-seven percent of respondents said they reduce, delay, or avoid spending on joy at least occasionally because of financial pressures or other priorities. Around 70% of respondents feel stressed at least monthly by balancing joy with financial responsibilities, and 69% feel overwhelmed by financial responsibilities at least monthly.

Women are more likely to experience guilt around spending. Three-quarters of women respondents felt some guilt when spending on personal joy and 25% felt a lot of guilt, compared with 68% and 15% of men, respectively.

Having more money could also bring you more joy. Higher incomes were associated with stronger overall Joy Index scores.

Still, mindset made a difference. Respondents with a “joy mindset” were nearly twice as likely to experience joy at least weekly, and reported experiencing it at virtually identical levels across income groups.

How different generations experience joy

Guilt was also more common among younger respondents. Around 77% of Gen Z and 76% of millennials reported feeling at least some guilt over joy-related purchases. That includes 23% of millennials and 22% of Gen Z who felt a lot of guilt. The report did not specify examples of joyful purchases.

Baby boomers reported the lowest guilt levels, with 63% feeling some amount of guilt. Nearly a third of boomers said spending on joy was “completely worth the cost.” Boomers were the happiest generation, scoring 57.1 out of 100 on the Joy Index. Boomers on average spend the most on joy each month, at $298.

Gen Z came second in terms of happiness, with a score of 55.2. Unlike other generations, a majority of Gen Z respondents—56%—said they have a dedicated budget for joy.

Gen Z respondents reported spending an average of $295 per month on things that bring them joy, compared to $287 among millennials and $259 among Gen X.

When money is tight, 47% of respondents seek lower-cost or free ways to experience joy, while 42% save up before spending. Some make steeper trade-offs: 20% cut back on necessities, and 13% take on debt or use credit.

In the previous three months before the survey, 38% of respondents cut back on dining out, 34% on shopping, 27% on entertainment, 25% on travel, and 21% on their hobbies. People were less willing to sacrifice time with or money spent on loved ones. Just 17% cut back on social time with friends, 11% on spending to help others, and 9% on their pets.

For many Americans, luxury looks less like extravagance and more like breathing room. When asked what counts as luxury today, 56% of respondents said vacations. But that was followed by half of respondents who said having money left after paying bills was a luxury. Around 47% of respondents said being able to save and still enjoy life, and eating out without worrying about the bill were also luxuries.

Other luxuries included free time, hobbies, and high-quality groceries.

Taylor Swift already told us she can do it with a broken heart. That might be due to grit, stamina—or a little psychological trick called a coping mantra.

When she feels stressed by her circumstances, “I go through several processes and coping mechanisms,” Swift revealed in August during the Icon Sessions, a conversation presented by the Recording Academy’s Songwriters & Composers Wing. “And one of them is saying, ‘You chose this. You chose this every day. You could have opted out of this any day before it got unmanageably big.’ And I decided not to because I love it that much.”

Even if you don’t have plans to perform in stadiums worldwide, you might recognize the peculiar frustration of being trapped by something you chose—whether that’s the job you once desperately wanted, the committee you volunteered to lead, or the dinner party you insisted on hosting. “Where people tend to get really distressed is when they feel powerless, or like something's being put upon you—you're just sort of stuck in an achy feeling,” says Jill Stoddard, a clinical psychologist in Newburyport, Mass. “But if you remind yourself, ‘Wait a minute, this is actually a choice I made, and choices do come with difficult consequences, but I'm in charge here’—that empowers you to move forward.”

Enter the coping mantra: a short, deliberate phrase you can reach for when your brain starts sprinting toward the worst-case scenario. Stress leaves little room for nuance, says Dr. Jasmine Sawhne, a psychiatrist in Los Angeles. When your body is in fight-or-flight mode, you’re not going to reason your way out of it. A mantra gives your overloaded brain something simple to grab onto—and buys you a beat to choose what to do next. Here’s how to find one that actually helps.

Make your brain an offer it can believe

“Everything will be OK” is a lovely thought. It’s also a promise about a future you can’t see—which means your anxious brain might reject it before you finish the sentence.

From a cognitive behavioral therapy perspective, predicting that everything will work out is a form of fortune-telling, says Alison McKleroy, a San Francisco therapist and author of The Self-Compassion Journal. The same goes for affirmations like “I am confident.” If you feel unsure, your brain isn’t going to buy it. You can say it 1,000 times, McKleroy says, and still not believe a word of it.

Instead of predicting a rosy outcome or forcing a new personality, a useful mantra can state a choice that’s within your control. Swift’s is essentially: I’m choosing to keep doing this, difficult parts and all. “It’s a decision you’re making out loud,” McKleroy says.

Stoddard takes a slightly different—but equally reality-based—approach. When she’s crushed by too much to do and too little time, she tells herself, “I’ll get it done. I always do.” It works because in her case, it’s true. “I wouldn’t have a PhD in psychology if I didn’t always get it done,” she says.

If you’re someone who does not, in fact, always get it done, that phrase may not be for you. This isn’t an exercise in “blowing sunshine” at yourself, Stoddard says. The best mantra is simple, specific, memorable—and true.

Figure out what your brain forgets under pressure

Rather than reflecting on which situations stress you out, try a sharper question: “What do I need to remind myself when I get uncomfortable?” suggests Joanna Hardis, a Cleveland-based therapist and author of Just Do Nothing: A Paradoxical Guide to Getting Out of Your Way.

In other words, don’t choose a generic mantra for “stress.” Identify your brain’s favorite way of making stress worse, then find a phrase that interrupts it. If you tend to predict disaster, McKleroy suggests: “I can’t know that yet” or “I don’t have a crystal ball.”

Sawhne’s stress takes a different form: She tries to solve everything at once. She runs a bicoastal psychiatry practice and has two children under 5, and she often catches herself mentally juggling five problems at the same time. Her mantra—“I don’t have to solve everything right now”—reminds her that urgency and importance aren’t the same thing. She doesn’t need the entire day, week, or situation figured out; she needs to identify what requires her attention first.

McKleroy, meanwhile, likes to over-research, add more information, and complicate projects past the point of usefulness. So she tells herself: “Let it be simple.”

“Things are usually naturally simple,” she says. “I just add stuff to it.”

Keep it short enough to say in one breath

Cap a coping mantra at about four words. When stress hits, “we just don’t have a lot of cognitive bandwidth,” Sawhne says, so you need a few words you can pull “out of your back pocket” as soon as your nervous system fires.

Shorter also means fewer words to obsess over. “Perfectionists are going to overthink it,” Hardis says. “You just want something that’s short enough that you can remember that’s going to orient you.” Her own mantra—“Discomfort, not danger”—passes the one-breath test with room to spare.

Use it to keep going while the feeling is still there

Nearly two decades ago, Hardis underwent exposure therapy for an intense fear of flying. When the plane hit turbulence, she would tell herself: “This may suck, but I can handle it.”

She still uses that mantra. During rough turbulence on a recent flight home from visiting her daughter, “I found myself saying it,” she recalls. In the past, she would have stared out the window, listened for every ominous noise, and asked a flight attendant if the plane was OK. This time, she calmly repeated her mantra and kept reading. “It helped me get through the flight and do what I knew I needed to do,” she says.

The fear was still there; it simply didn’t dictate her next move. “The goal in anxiety treatment isn’t to make the feeling go away,” Hardis says. It’s to help you decide what to do while the feeling is still there.

Borrow one—and make it sound like you

There are no bonus points for originality here. Anna Elton, a licensed marriage and family therapist in Palm Beach, Fla., and author of The Formula of Desire, uses “just keep swimming.” She borrowed it from Finding Nemo, which she watched with her kids. “That’s why it’s easy to remember,” she says. She also turns to “If it were easy, everyone would do it” when a project proves harder than expected. Her most exuberant mantra is a call-and-response: “Who is awesome? I’m awesome.” “I do it all the time,” she says. 

Once you settle on a potential mantra, say it out loud. Does it sound like something you’d actually tell yourself—or something embroidered on a throw pillow you’d try to hide? McKleroy recommends trying slightly different versions until one lands. “Brave” and “courageous” might look interchangeable on paper, for example, but one could feel much more natural coming out of your mouth.

You’ll know you’re getting close when the words produce even a small shift. The right phrase might bring “a little hit of relief,” McKleroy says, or make a spiral lose some of its momentum. If your brain instantly rejects it, change a word or scale it down. “Let it be simple,” for example, might become “Let it be simpler.”

Once you find one that works, practice it before you need it. Stoddard encourages clients to try new coping tools during low-stakes moments, when their emotions are relatively mellow. Call your mantra to mind when you’re running five minutes late, opening a mildly stressful email, or sitting down to a task you’ve been avoiding. Otherwise, summoning an unfamiliar phrase in the middle of a crisis will be “an uphill battle,” she says.

Put it where the problem lives

Years ago, when McKleroy was trying to stop procrastinating, she hung “Do it now” in big letters above her kitchen sink. “That was my command,” she says. “Just do the dishes.” After enough repetition, “do it now” stopped being a mantra and became a habit, and now she rarely procrastinates.

These days, “Let it be simple” hangs above her desk—prime territory for over-researching and adding just one more thing. McKleroy calls this “keeping it in existence,” or displaying the reminder exactly where you’ll need it.

That might mean taping your mantra to your computer monitor, writing it on the bathroom mirror, turning it into your phone lock screen, or putting it on the front of your journal. “If you’re really anxious, your mind’s not going to remember—it’s going to go blank,” Hardis says. A visual cue ensures the words are waiting for you when you need them.

Your reminder doesn’t even have to be made of words: McKleroy suggests drawing a circle on a stone and carrying it in your pocket or leaving it on the bathroom counter. To her, the circle represents simplicity. “A circle on a rock would be enough,” she says, to remind her to “let it be simple.” You could similarly choose a meaningful color, shape, or object. And—since this entire exercise began with Swift—you could even spell yours out on a friendship bracelet.