Gretchen
Schauffler
Nº 01 · Fall 2026 · BURP Arrives 11.1.26.
BURP
Clear the Air. Know Better. Do Better Together.
Instant Relief from Should-Know-Better Misery
Without Shame or Blame
My oldest daughter
told me to call it BURP.
18 years later, I did.
We are born expecting others to know better and care about our needs, because for the first decades of our lives, they do. When a baby gets air trapped inside, pressure builds. They squirm, fuss, cry, and make everyone around them miserable until somebody helps release what they cannot release themselves. Adults do something remarkably similar when somebody should have known better. And don’t. They can’t afford to be cry-babies. They tough it out, continue to vent, or suppress for days, months, years, even lifetimes.
The time has come to take them up on it.
SKBC Symptoms
You know it the minute it happens
Should Know Better reactions that speak louder than
words we are too miserable to say.
VENTING REHASHING REPEATING RETREATING
Misery indigestion is somatic. It has to come out as sound, or words.
Clear the Air.
"Let me relieve you"
SKBC misery is not trauma. Trauma is attached to past memories or events. Misery happens spontaneously, when someone should know better and need to know but you are afraid to tell them.
Know Better.
"We are both right."
Being right or being certain is not the same thing as knowing better. Knowing is based on knowing ourselves, not knowing others and wanting to know together.
Do Better Together.
"Let's put feelings aside."
Feelings are not needs. They come and go like the wind, unless they get stuck. Needs are "steady as she goes. Feelings can be understood, needs need to be met.
What happens when someone should know better?
Misery Indigestion.
That didn’t sit well. I call it misery indigestion.
You feel it the second it happens, pressure that builds, somewhere in your body. Heart starts to pound, stomach may drop, head gets hot, legs can shake, throat closes up.
It’s familiar because you have felt it all your life when someone should have known better and you thought they didn’t care about you, or about what you care about.
That’s misery trying to tell you it needs to get out. Misery indigestion is somatic. You feel it in your body. The relief is sensorial.
It has to come out as sound, or words.
There’s no peace around a miserable baby.
When a baby gets air trapped inside, pressure builds. They squirm, fuss, cry, and make everyone around them miserable until somebody helps release what they cannot release themselves.
Adults do something remarkably similar when somebody should have known better. And don't.
We swallow disappointment. We replay what happened. We rehearse imaginary conversations. We vent to everyone except the person involved. We tell ourselves we don’t care.
But we do.
I call that Should-Know-Better Misery.
It can begin with one moment and stay trapped inside us for months, years, or even a lifetime—costing us trust and confidence in ourselves, someone we care about, or the world.
Why BURP Now?
In 2020, it felt like a worldwide spotlight switched on, casting shadows we had never seen before.
So much we didn't know.
We began questioning what we knew about ourselves, others, and the world—wondering who knew better and when the adults were coming back.
BURP is a coming-of-age book for adults—arriving at a moment when we are afraid to talk about what we believe we—or someone else—should know better, for fear of losing our shit, losing someone we care about, or losing ourselves.
BURP instantly relieves us from the misery by flipping back from baby mode to confident adults who can discover how to meet a need for trust.
Because:
Awareness is not understanding.
Understanding is not knowing.
Feelings are not needs.
Accountability is not responsibility.
Rejection is not abandonment.
Knowing better is not knowing together.
Different words create different worlds.
Eighteen years later, BURP is ready.
I began this book in 2008, when the housing market crashed—and with it, my color-consulting business and cult paint brand.
But not the conversation.
Stay close. There is much more to know.
WANT TO HEAR A BURP TALK?
I’m turning eighteen years of writing, research, conversations, color, misery, and knowing together into a book—and a talk. Stay tuned.
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