Toxic Positivity
When I started writing this piece on toxic positivity based on my own experiences, I also began asking about it on social media. One thing I learned as I listened to stories is how often positivity is used as a weapon against marginalized people. People described their experiences of pointing out racism, ableism, sexism, and homophobia, only to hear the toxic responses of:
I’m sure that’s not what was meant.
I can’t imagine such a nice person doing that.
Are you sure it’s not you?
Well, he doesn’t know God so let’s give him some grace.
My friend Jamie rightfully referred to this as “weaponized grace” when they described the rage they felt at being told to respond to unaddressed direct racism with grace.
My own understanding of toxic positivity began with my youngest daughter. When she was three months old, we found cysts all over her kidneys and it was scary and new and I couldn’t tell people about it without crying. Folks didn’t know how to react, so their instinct was often a version of, “Well, at least it’s not [insert something deemed worse than kidney cysts].”
I started qualifying my situation with, “I guess I’m thankful that it’s not [all of those other things},” but I remember how good it felt to go to therapy and finally have someone say, “It’s okay to have a hard time with what it is right now.”
The response of pointing to the bright side and trying to find silver linings when someone experiences harm or is hurting is called toxic positivity. Toxic positivity attempts to use a positive spin to avoid, dismiss, or mask real pain. Toxic positivity is something we do to ourselves and each other, and it has infiltrated our pandemic lives.
Toxic Positivity and Faith
There have been a number of times over the years where I drop some bad news to friends or family and the immediate response is, “Wow. Ok. I’ll be praying!” and the conversation moves on. The idea that prayer will offer the ultimate comfort also gets muddled with the concept that “God has a plan,” “Things happen for a reason,” and “God wouldn’t put more on your plate than what you could handle!” Often what I’m looking for when I share my pain with others is support. I don’t want my struggles taken to someone else’s quiet time tomorrow, I want my pain to be seen right now. Talk of God’s sovereign plan only minimizes the struggle, or worse, acts as if the struggle was something God designed for me to have in the first place.
Support, therapy, medication, crying, venting, journaling, meditation, and all of it are healthy ways to navigate struggle. Prayer can be healthy too if it brings the comfort and relief that someone is looking for, but suggesting that prayer will replace the need for other kinds of support bypasses the hurt and pain that people are walking in.
Toxic Positivity and Work
Most teachers have become professionals at masking their emotions for hours at a time in order to prioritize supporting the needs of their students. I may have fought with my own children over breakfast, spilled coffee on my shirt on the way to work, or gotten my period right as the entrance bell rang, but I show up with a smile for my students because I have to. Turning off and tuning in to the needs of others is part of the job in a way I imagine it must be for therapists, counselors, social workers, and so many other jobs that involve supporting and meeting the needs of others. It can be toxic, however, when space isn’t held for what struggle looks like within these systems. How are employees given space to debrief a difficult moment with a student, client, or patient? There’s a difference between being met with, “It could have been a lot worse!” and being met with, “Wow, let’s take a minute, sit down, and talk this through.”
Another place I see toxic positivity in the workplace is related to recognition. What are employees recognized for and what is the language around that recognition? I have seen recognition for perfect attendance, putting in hundreds of extra hours, and going “above and beyond.” The message sent by an organization with this kind of recognition is that they value attendance over health, achievement over balance, and performance over boundaries. Often in the recognition, I will hear a reference to co-workers being a “family” or someone will say, “that’s just what we do here!” as a note of dedication. Having close friends at work is great, but the sense of having to show up for co-workers in the way we show up for family is when the environment becomes toxic.
I have yet to see employees recognized for taking care of their mental health needs or managing a healthy work-life balance. Let’s recognize when someone says “no” to an extra project because they know they’ll be stretched too thin. Let’s recognize the woman who manages to pump enough milk throughout the day to support her breastfed infant, while still getting her job done. Let’s recognize employers and employees that foster a sense of inclusivity and affirmation of those around them.
Toxic Positivity and the Pandemic
I recently re-watched the 1994 movie Speed where passengers on a bus are held hostage by a bomb that is set to detonate if the bus slows down to below 50 miles per hour. There’s a scene in the movie where one passenger says, “I shouldn’t be here, I have a family.” and everyone starts to argue about whose life has more worth. It reminded me of the pandemic trauma cloud we have all been living in and how toxic positivity has surfaced with everyone comparing pandemic life and trying to say who has it worse. We say, “Work has been difficult,” and are met with, “You should be grateful to have a job.” Someone tests positive for COVID-19 and has a rough couple of weeks (or long-haul recovery), but in the midst of that difficulty they are met with, “Well, did you have to be hospitalized?” and “Be thankful you survived.” Let’s face it, it’s hard to hold space for one person’s suffering in the midst of suffering everywhere. We struggle through a moment, a day or a week, but then look around and see the struggle our neighbor is having. We try to tell ourselves, “They seem to have it much worse, so I should be grateful that my struggle is merely what it is,” yet somehow that doesn’t help us or our neighbor. Here’s the thing though- acknowledging your own pain or someone else’s pain does not diminish the pain of others. Validating one person’s experience does not invalidate the experience of someone else.
Final Thoughts on Toxic Positivity
There is something about this pandemic though that has taught us how to carry each other the right way in the midst of pain. A couple weeks ago, I reached out to a few friends to pull in support on a really tough day. That day support showed up in a friend that listened even if it meant hearing me cry. Support showed up in a family member that said, “There might be a bright side, but you’re allowed to wallow in today. Today sucks. You don’t have to move on from that until you’re ready.” Support showed up in a text from a neighbor that said, “Do you want to hear my possible silver lining, or I’m good just listening to you vent.” Support showed up in someone that I felt safe enough with to say, “My relationship with prayer is a little complicated right now. Can you do it for me for a while?”
“Absolutely,” my friend replied. “Always.”
After that horrible day, I woke up the next day full of positivity. Not because it was forced or suggested, but because I had been supported and cared for with such tenderness that I felt ready to be positive again.
So let’s hold space for each other. Let’s hold space for pain, grief, anger, anxiety, depression, struggle, tears, and all of it. What I imagine we will find is that by holding space for one another without pushing the silver linings or bright sides, we will each feel supported enough to discover those things on our own.
