I’m Not a Positive Person
In my writing about living and finding meaning after a devastating diagnosis (in my case, stage 4 breast cancer), my readers often comment with, “You’re such a positive person.”
I’m not actually a positive person. Let me rephrase that — my goal is not to be a positive person.
My goal is to be a mentally healthy person.
Although it sounds great on the surface, “positivity” can easily cross a line into toxicity.
It can mean you don’t want to talk about the hard things, that you can’t handle the messy feelings.
Positivity can mean you’re uncomfortable living with uncertainty.
It can mean that you’re going to slap a smile on your face while you whistle past the graveyard.
It can mean there’s no space for tension and questions and fear.
And to me, that means not dealing with what IS. And while there are moments here and there that I wish all the bad, challenging shit would just melt away into an icky memory, I can’t live my life in that mode.
Being mentally healthy, on the other hand, means to feel the shit without getting mired down in the muck.
It means I regroup more quickly when things don’t go my way.
It means I can allow for dissonance in my world. A negative experience. A nonsensical conversation. Bad news, an unresolved issue.
It means I’m okay not having all the answers.
It means I can ugly cry when I feel the need.
And it also means that I have the clarity to appreciate something beautiful, laugh at something that’s funny, and feel deeply grateful for all of my feelings because it means I’m alive to feel them.
Being mentally healthy means I can say I’m sorry when I’ve blown it, because my ego isn’t wrapped up in being right all the time.
It means I can feel afraid while still moving forward, however clumsily I might do that.
It means someone I love can have a strong difference of opinion without me feeling unsafe or unloved.
Living with an “incurable” or chronic condition has taught me, fundamentally, to know the value of a day, of a moment, and to savor it until I can feel my heart swell within my chest.
So, no thank you, I’m not going to be “positive.” I won’t be limited in such a way that I cannot allow myself to feel everything it means to be living this human experience.
If my writings are to be of any help to anyone, providing any real support and encouragement, they can only do that if I am able to be authentic within my experience. And if you’re seeking someone to walk with you through the muck instead of pretending it’s not there, you’re in the right place.
We don’t need to be positive. We just need to truly be.
And just to complicate things, I do also believe that everything is, overall, fine. Truly. It may not feel good in this moment — and I’ll really feel that — but I know the universe has my back, so it’s all ok. Big difference between that and toxic positivity.