When Positivity Turns Toxic

Disclaimer:

If you’ve ever caught yourself wondering whether you’re being too happy or too hopeful while the world around you seems to be falling apart, this post is for you. On the other hand, if you find yourself more often weighed down by negative emotions and puzzled by how others seem so much happier, this might not be the most helpful read right now. And that’s okay. 

During a group conversation about “thriving,” someone shared something quite heavy, and it really shifted the way our discussion continued. Another person later summed up what many were probably feeling: “It’s hard to think about relationally thriving when everyone around me seems to be just surviving these days.” That comment stayed with me. Yes. I’ve been there. When life feels overwhelming, conversations about well-being and thriving can seem distant… almost out of touch. In the midst of burnout, depression, and heavy anxieties, the real battle is simply getting through each day, especially against the backdrop of harsh realities like political turmoil, societal disruptions, and the growing threats to higher education.

Positivity, of course, can be a gift. It helps us notice what’s good, keep moving forward in hard times, and spark hope for others. But positivity also has its limits. When it skips over pain, it risks becoming hollow, or even harmful. That’s when it shifts into toxic positivity.

So, here is the question: 

How do we catch ourselves when our well-intended cheer sounds tone-deaf? 

How do we hold space for one another in the fullness of our emotions? The joy and the sorrow…. the flourishing and the surviving? 

How can we offer honest and genuine encouragement that uplifts, without downplaying the gravity of struggles one might be facing? 

What do we do with a realization that, after trying “all the right things”, your positivity is still unwelcome by someone whom you’re trying to love well?

What Toxic Positivity Really Is

Toxic positivity isn’t just “being optimistic.” It’s what happens when we use optimism to deny reality. It sounds like:

• “Just look on the bright side,” when someone is grieving.

• “Don’t be so negative,” when someone is hurting.

• “Everything happens for a reason,” when someone is struggling with injustice.

It’s an unwillingness to sit with discomfort or admit that the world can be unfair and deeply painful. It’s an eagerness to jump into cheers and pep talks without hearing out what the person is going through. For the person on the receiving end, it can feel jarring, or even offensive… like someone shining a flashlight in your eyes while you’re trying to sleep, or blasting disco music in the middle of a quiet meditation.

What It’s Not

On the other hand, positivity doesn’t have to be toxic. Healthy, grounded, and sincere positivity is about connection and resilience. It shows up when we genuinely and mindfully seek to:

• Reframe challenges without pretending they don’t exist.

• Look toward goals rather than only focusing on obstacles.

• Find small moments of gratitude even in the midst of disappointment.

• Offer hugs, smiles, or humor when they might genuinely help lighten the load.

This kind of positivity doesn’t dismiss pain. It acknowledges it, then offers a little extra light to help someone through. It’s not so much about saying or doing the right things, but about the intention behind them.

What Can We Learn from Social Psychology

Positivity shines through our intentionality toward serving and loving others. Sincere positivity becomes powerful when it is practiced with a clear goal and a genuine desire to meet the person where they are, engaging with them with gentleness and humility. Wisdom and discernment play a key role in seeing the person and the situation fully before figuring out what to say or do. It takes what I call “purposeful encoding” — a process that involves carefully tuning into the situation, noticing the nuances of words and emotions at play, sensing what the person across from you might need, and considering what form of support would truly serve them best. Some of this happens so quickly that it feels intuitive and automatic. Others may feel more laborious and regulated. 

Dr. Kruglanski and colleagues (2000) talked about two distinct ways in which people tend to regulate themselves when it comes to pursuing goals:

1. Assessment Mode – “Am I doing the right thing?”

Thinkers think. People in assessment mode are focused on evaluating, comparing, and judging. They ask questions like: Is this the best option? Is my progress good enough? Am I on the right track? This mode emphasizes accuracy, reflection, and careful consideration. It helps you make better choices. Too much of it can get you stuck in overthinking, self-criticism, or constant comparison.

2. Locomotion Mode – “Just do it.”

Doers do. People in locomotion mode are focused on movement, progress, and action. They prioritize starting and continuing rather than stopping to evaluate. This mode emphasizes momentum and forward motion. It helps you actually get things done. It can lead to rushing ahead without enough reflection, sometimes making poor decisions.

Both modes are important. Too much assessment can lead to paralysis, and too much locomotion can lead to reckless action. People naturally lean more toward one or the other, but the best outcomes usually come from balancing the two – knowing when to pause and reflect, and when to move forward decisively. This framework helps explain differences in personality, decision-making, leadership styles, and even how teams and organizations operate. 

When deciding how to respond to someone with genuine care, it helps to balance these two modes. Without locomotion, you may wait too long and miss the moment to offer support. Without assessment, you may rush into cheerfulness that feels tone deaf, unless your compassion is so natural that you instinctively listen, hold space, and meet the person where they are. That, after all, is the deepest goal.

I don’t know about you, but for me, often the hardest part is simply slowing down. 

I am learning that, when my friends are hurting, sometimes the kindest thing is not to lift them up, but to be with them as they are. Listening without fixing, or even sharing silence if that is what you have to give. Slow down. Listen. Wait. And wait a little longer.

And here’s another important reminder: you can’t give what you don’t have. If you’re feeling drained, you don’t need to put on a mask of cheer. Real care comes from a place of authenticity, not obligation.

Here’s the Real Challenge

Even sincere positivity can miss the mark, depending on timing and context. Maybe you misread what someone needs because you did not have enough background. Maybe your cheerful tone feels dismissive because something painful just happened that you were unaware of. Maybe your friend simply wanted a listening ear, not a question or a solution.

Or maybe they are simply not in a place to take in any positivity at all.

What feels soothing to you might feel overwhelming or even off-putting to someone else. Positivity is like taste. What delights one person might feel too sour, too bitter, or simply too much for another.

And that is okay.

Maybe you were not meant to have a breakthrough moment with that person, or to make them feel better right away. Maybe your effort to bring light into their life was not supposed to work this time.

And that is okay too.

A Closing Reflection

Positivity becomes life-giving when it is honest, gentle, and grounded in humility and love. It is not about imposing your light on others but about offering it quietly, as a humble gesture of care that honors their readiness to receive. Without agape love, the kind that listens first, respects another’s pain, and seeks to serve rather than fix, positivity loses its depth and connection.

Perhaps that is what it means to practice sincere positivity: to see what is hard, to hold it with compassion, and to still choose to share whatever light you have.

Recommended Reading:

Kruglanski, A. W., Thompson, E. P., Higgins, E. T., Atash, M. N., Pierro, A., Shah, J. Y., & Spiegel, S. (2000). To “do the right thing” or to “just do it”: Locomotion and assessment as distinct self-regulatory imperatives. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 79(5), 793–815. https://doi.org/10.1037/0022-3514.79.5.793