Let’s talk about relentless optimism.
I’ve experienced it, particularly during the worst of chemo treatment. I’m not here to knock it, because (1) it’s helpful, and (2) it serves a worthy purpose.
Here’s the thing: it’s unsustainable.
If you’re experiencing a situation where you need to be intentionally, endlessly optimistic to get through it, then you’re not exactly dealing with what’s happening.
Or it’s temporary, meaning the situation is short-lived and thus, so is the coping mechanism. That’s not a comparison or value judgment, but there can be a vast difference when you’re removed from the situation versus never being able to leave it.
For example, more often than not, processing my childhood trauma while mostly removed from the situation (parents are still living) is not as heavy a lift as living with disabilities and chronic illnesses stemming from cancer treatment. The frequency of its impact, how often I’m conscious of it, whether there are remedies or coping strategies to use. Not everything is treatable by mindset.
Relentless optimism often requires the support of others because, once again, it’s unsustainable. There will be a moment where you waver, and we’re lucky if that’s all it is. A single moment in time. Not everyone has a ride or die support system; some suffer quietly (or not so quietly) alone.
And that’s where we get into big trouble: glorifying any sustained outlook, whether it’s positive or negative. Because wishes – not reality – become the norm. It becomes the expectation of those who’ve never experienced it, putting the person who’s actually living it in a catch-22.
You can’t avoid feelings. And in some situations, you can’t control behavior (from mental health to medication-induced). It’s dangerous to project uninformed opinions on those actively living it: it becomes a contest of who knows better, and you can imagine which way the wind blows. Likely not on the person suffering.
The person living it might believe it, suppressing feelings – shame among them – and in turn, their self-confidence. Projection strips them of the right to live their own authentic experience, where they can interpret and sort through natural feelings, deal with the side effects of medication or disabilities without fear of judgment or the real-life implications of that judgment.
No one wins in that equation.
So, if you’re going to advocate for relentless optimism, be careful not to put it on a pedestal. It can be a privilege, an unrealistic option in some situations. Sometime to aim for? Absolutely.
But stop measuring character or strength based on how much or how well someone survived.
There’s room for the spectrum of feelings and stories, and honestly, people can learn benefit from both. My most vulnerable, least positive posts were the ones that enabled others experiencing the same situation to reach out. There are endless silver-lining posts out there reeking of toxic positivity; you know you’ve found people who get it when they realistically talk about both. When it validates your experience in a very real way, not one composed of dreams and wishes: the Hollywood ending.
If you learn anything from this post:
- Don’t advocate for a single method at the exclusion of others
- Assume not all experiences are the same
- “Armchair experts” can STFU