Imagine the worst possible case-scenario happens to you. You’re upset, overwhelmed, and on your last legs. That was the thing to send you over the edge. Out of frustration, you go rant to a friend, family member, private story- and this is the response: “Everything happens for a reason, you’ll be okay!” said with a huge smile and accompanied with a pat on the back. This is a prime example of performative positivity; the “just stay positive!” movement. If my world is literally crumbling before my feet, positivity is not at the forefront of my mind. I’m obviously enraged.
Positivity exists on a spectrum, and often it’s something we reach only at the end of the process. A couple years ago, I was completely over life. One thing after another, too many lows, not enough highs- I was miserable. And while in the back of my mind I knew, “I’ll probably make it through this, there’s probably some hidden message or lesson at the end of this turmoil.” But in the moment, I was defeated. And while I really did try to be positive, I could only to an extent. It wasn’t until I was able to acknowledge my anger, sadness, frustration, and stress, that I could feel anything pertaining to joy, happiness, and positivity.
We’re not Barbie dolls living in a picture-perfect simulation, packaged with a default setting of happiness, optimism, and flawless smiles. We’re not customizable gaming characters either… there’s no character creator where we can toggle on “never anxious,” dial up “confidence to 100,” or select the perfect emotional armor. Real life doesn’t come with a permanently sunny outlook, and expecting ourselves or anyone else to live that way is a recipe for burnout.
We’re human. We get overwhelmed, we get tired, we mess up, and sometimes we struggle to feel okay. And that’s not failure. It’s part of being alive. Perfection is not the standard. Our norm is this beautifully imperfect, complicated, deeply human reality we all share.
As a mental wellness writer, I understand pushing sunshine and rainbows; offering other perspectives and looking on the bright side of things. But mental wellness cannot exist without accepting that sometimes, things just suck. I can craft a whole article about lessons I’ve learned and holes I’ve dug myself out of, but not without sitting in the fire first. To understand both sides of wellness, is important.
People think I’m crazy when I tell them to go cry about it. “Why would I want to cry?” they ask. Because sometimes you need to. I often cannot move past anything until I throw a tantrum about it. Let me believe the world is ending and my time has come to throw in the towel so that it means much more when I realize, I’m fine. A lot of times we are fine, but it’s usually not instant.
Performative positivity is just another phrase for emotional invalidation. By completely surpassing any emotions that don’t end in a smile, you dismiss real human emotion. And that’s the issue, because no matter what perfectly curated picture you post or self-help book you read that completely transforms your mindset overnight, you are not happy all the time. You are not programmed positive. If someone runs over your foot right now, crushing every single toe you have, you’re not going to smile in their face and say it’s okay. You are toeless and angry. And rightfully so.
The burden of always being “okay” is what sets off a shame spiral; feeling guilty for feeling. It causes a disconnect in which you feel like you can’t even be honest with yourself about how you truly feel. Now you’re isolated with emotions you feel burdened to have.
Labeling emotions as positive or negative oversimplifies what they are trying to tell us- which is why I no longer put them in a category. Every emotion, whether joy, anger, fear, or sadness, carries information about our needs, boundaries, and values. When we stop judging emotions as good or bad, we make space to understand them, respond to them, and grow from them instead of suppressing what we feel.
Emotional complexity grants you permission to feel any and all emotions. I’m a culprit of spreading toxic positivity unintentionally and giving advice on situations I’d had no personal experience in. I just wanted to help. So I’m working on rewriting the script: instead of trying to offer a smile as a solution, acknowledge that yeah, you can understand why they’d feel the way they do. Offer a listening ear and a shoulder to cry on. We’re not all therapists equipped with the proper tools to magically make someone feel better. We need less toxic positivity and more compassionate honesty so we can build spaces where full emotional range is welcome, not dismissed.
Highs feels better when you allow lows too. So let this be your reminder that you are allowed to feel fully. Let every emotion have its moment. Let the difficult ones move through you rather than harden inside you, and trust that real strength comes from honesty, not speed. When you stop wrestling your emotions and start listening to them, you soften and you breathe. The world does not get easier overnight, but you grow steadier. And in that steadiness, even the smallest moments of joy feel brighter, not because you forced them, but because you made room for them to arrive.
