The Shadow Side of a Positive Mindset: Why Positivity Isn’t the Same as Living Well
A desert plant growing with some leaves green and also some brown and dying.
This morning I attended my monthly Tammy’s Table group, a meeting of business owners who come together to talk about everything from strategy and success to the more personal sides of leadership and life (because, really, they are the same thing in different clothes).
This month’s topic was mindset.
And, as it turns out, having a trauma therapist with a background in Positive Psychology and Wellbeing in the room might have made things a little interesting.
What started as a conversation about positivity and motivation soon deepened into something far richer and more uncomfortable. We began exploring the shadow side of mindset, the side that doesn’t get much airtime in the world of business coaching and personal development.
And I have to say, it was powerful. The bravery in that room was palpable. People began to understand how their “stay positive” mindset can sometimes become a layer of performance, another mask to hold up when life feels heavy. At best, it keeps us moving; at worst, it prevents authentic and valuable processing of the human experience.
When Positivity Becomes Pressurising
A positive mindset can be a beautiful thing. It helps us orient toward possibility, hold hope when life feels heavy, and find gratitude in the small things. But when positivity becomes compulsory, the only acceptable emotion, it starts to chafe.
We hear it in familiar lines like, “Just look on the bright side,” “Everything happens for a reason,” and “You just have to be grateful.”
These phrases often come from a place of care, yet they can quietly silence us. They suggest that to be “well” is to be unaffected rather than alive.
Brené Brown writes that we live in a culture that has become “comfort-obsessed.” We reach for silver linings and quick reframes not because we are bad people, but because we are deeply uncomfortable with pain, both our own and other people’s. But, as she reminds us, we cannot selectively numb emotions. When we numb sadness, anger or fear, we also numb joy, love and gratitude.
Developing distress tolerance, the ability to stay present with discomfort without rushing to fix or avoid it, is one of the most profound forms of emotional maturity. It allows us to remain open, connected and real even when things feel hard. Without it, positivity becomes a defence rather than a strength.
Toxic positivity isn’t just unrealistic; it’s disconnecting. It can create a quiet loneliness, especially for those of us who learnt early on that big feelings were unsafe.
I often invite people (and remind myself) to tune in to their own internal compass. Notice where your “positivity” comes from. Does it genuinely reflect hope and balance, or might it be something you learnt to do in order to stay safe?
For me, I can trace mine right back to childhood. I was, in many ways, the keeper of my mother’s emotional wellbeing. If I wasn’t okay, she wasn’t okay. My sadness or anger would trigger her distress, and instead of comfort, I’d hear, “Stop your crying or I’ll give you something to cry about.”
I wasn’t allowed to express when something she said or did hurt me, not as a child, and not as an adult. Every problem became a battle, something to survive rather than something to work through together.
And as complex and sad as my feelings are about her death, there’s a strange sort of growth that has happened in her absence. My own wellbeing, my ability to express frustration, anger, sadness and disappointment, finally has the space to breathe. The way I worded this at Tammy’s Table this morning was, “I’m giving myself permission to be a grumpy bitch.”
It’s deeply liberating. It’s the permission to be fully human; to feel what’s real, rather than perform what’s acceptable.
So, as you read this, I wonder: what did you learn about emotions growing up? Were you allowed to cry, to be angry, to say, “That hurt”? Or did you learn, like so many of us, to stay small, agreeable, or relentlessly “fine”?
Understanding these patterns doesn’t mean blaming anyone. It’s about compassion for ourselves and for the parts of us that learnt to survive by staying positive, polite and pleasing. Those parts served a purpose once. But they don’t have to run the show forever.
Because real resilience isn’t built on constant positivity. It’s built on our capacity to feel everything, to stay connected to ourselves, and to honour the full, messy, magnificent range of being human.
The Meaning in the Mess
In Positive Psychology, the PERMAH+ framework reminds us that wellbeing is more than happiness. It includes Positive Emotion, Engagement, Relationships, Meaning, Accomplishment and Health, plus broader social and environmental wellbeing.
But here’s the thing: meaning doesn’t always feel good.
In fact, the most meaningful moments in our lives are often painful: grief, heartbreak, loss, failure and identity shifts. These are the moments that teach us, stretch us and invite us to live in alignment with our deeper values.
Yet when we rush to reframe everything as “positive”, we rob those experiences of their power to transform us.
Meaning asks us to slow down and sit with discomfort. It asks us to listen for what matters underneath the pain. That’s not something you can fast-track with a gratitude list; it’s something you feel your way through.
When Values Collide
Values sound noble, don’t they? They’re the compass points we say we live by. But here’s the tricky part: our values can often rub up against each other or against the values of those around us. Sometimes, it’s the expression of the same value that differs.
Take the value of connection. Two people might share this value wholeheartedly. One finds connection through stillness, quiet mornings and nourishing routines, while another finds it through clubbing, dancing, drinking and shared chaos.
Both are seeking connection, but each might secretly judge the other’s path as “wrong”.
What’s happening here is value protection. We create internal rules around what our values should look like and then defend them fiercely.
We mistake our method for our aligned value living.
In doing so, we project our version of a “good life” onto others, cutting off empathy and curiosity, the very things that help us connect.
We don’t have to accept someone else’s version for ourselves, but rejecting their version entirely is like throwing the baby out with the bathwater.
The Granular Human Work
Authenticity isn’t a trait you acquire; it’s a practice you return to, again and again, usually when it’s least convenient.
It lives in those quiet, often uncomfortable moments where you notice:
when you’re trying to sound fine instead of being honest, hoping it will somehow make it true;
when your positivity is really avoidance in disguise;
when you feel judgment rising and sense that curiosity might be the more truthful choice;
when you allow yourself (and others) to feel grief, frustration or disappointment without needing to tidy it up.
One of the most challenging parts of this work comes when we start to live from our core values. On paper, values sound straightforward. We name them, write them on a vision board, and promise to live by them. But in practice, values alignment can be deeply uncomfortable.
Take kindness, for example. When kindness is one of our core values, we tend to notice unkindness everywhere. We feel it acutely: someone not replying to an email, overlooking a message, or dismissing an idea. Our sensitivity to this isn’t wrong; it’s part of how we live our value. But it can also sting.
In that sting, something subtle happens. To protect ourselves, we start judging. We might think, “They’re rude,” or “They don’t care.” We build a story about them and then fuse to that story, holding it as truth. We feel even more hurt because we see ourselves as kind and them as not. Beneath the surface, the pain isn’t just about what they did; it’s about what that behaviour means to us. It clashes with our value and, in doing so, threatens our sense of self.
It’s tempting to believe the solution is to make them “be more kind”. But the deeper work, the aligned work, asks something harder of us.
It invites reflection:
“Instead of projecting and fusing to this idea of what they’ve done to me, how can I check in with my own value of kindness and decide, from alignment, how to respond more kindly?”
This doesn’t mean ignoring hurt or excusing behaviour. It means recognising that our values aren’t rules for others to live by; they’re guides for how we choose to show up.
The work of authenticity isn’t about being right or emotionally tidy. It’s about noticing where our values bump up against the world, feeling the discomfort that brings, and responding from integrity rather than reactivity.
It’s not glamorous, and it’s rarely easy. But it’s profoundly human, and it’s where genuine connection and peace begin.
When It Feels Safer to Stay Closed
You might be experiencing some resistance to this, possibly the quiet fear that if we start to really feel, we’ll never stop.
For those of us conditioned to keep it together, to stay capable, calm and positive, the idea of opening that door can feel like standing on the edge of a cliff. We worry that if we let sadness, anger or grief in, we’ll be swallowed by it.
That fear makes perfect sense. It’s protective. For many, emotional suppression once kept us safe, especially if, as children, expressing our feelings led to shame, punishment or disconnection. From a nervous system perspective, this isn’t weakness; it’s a survival pattern. Our bodies are wired to seek safety first. When expression once felt dangerous, our system learns to associate feeling with threat.
So when that resistance shows up, it’s not sabotage, and it isn’t truth, when it says, “This is stupid.” It is self-protection.
But here’s what’s also true: you’re not on the edge of a cliff. You’re sitting safely in your chair, driving your car, journalling, or talking with a friend or therapist. You’re not in danger; you’re simply meeting the parts of yourself that have been waiting to be felt.
And the beautiful paradox is that once we start this process, gently, safely, in small doses, the opposite of what we fear almost always happens.
We don’t fall apart. We come together.
Over time, we develop greater empathy, not only for others but for ourselves. Our pain starts to make sense; it finds words, shape and breath. The nervous system learns that emotions are waves, not whirlpools. They rise, crest and pass. We begin to trust that we can feel and survive.
And as that trust grows, something profound happens: we stop performing and start participating. We move away from spaces that require us to mask and toward the ones that feel congruent with who we are.
This is where our mindset work becomes real.
Because thriving, as people, workplaces and communities, isn’t about perfecting positivity. It’s about cultivating the safety and self-awareness to live from our values, even when it’s uncomfortable.
Values aren’t abstract ideals written on walls or tucked into policy documents. They are living, breathing principles tested in the smallest, most human moments, in the email that goes unanswered, the feedback that stings and the conversation we would rather avoid.
If you’re not sure what your values are or where to start exploring them, you’re not alone. Many of us were never taught to identify or reflect on them. We simply inherited beliefs about what “should” matter from family, school, culture or faith.
A great place to begin is the Personal Values Assessment. It’s a simple, free tool that helps you explore what’s important to you right now. But it’s not a one-and-done process. Values work is layered, and it deepens over time as we reflect, live, fail and learn.
Working with a therapist trained in values-based practice can help you get under the surface of those words, to explore what your values look like in action, where they came from and how they show up under stress or conflict. That’s where values shift from abstract to embodied, and where mindset moves from theory into lived integrity.
For example, if kindness is a core value, we’ll feel its edges when we experience unkindness. Maybe someone doesn’t respond to a message or treats us dismissively. It stings because it touches what we hold sacred. But instead of fusing with a story about them such as “They’re rude” or “They don’t care”, we can pause, breathe and ask ourselves:
“What value of mine is being rubbed here? And how can I respond from that value, rather than from my hurt?”
That’s the moment values stop being words and start becoming choices.
In workplaces, this looks like fostering cultures of psychological safety, where people can speak honestly about mistakes, wellbeing or uncertainty without fear of judgment. It’s where kindness, curiosity and accountability can coexist.
And, just like in our personal lives, it’s rarely tidy. Living our values asks us to build distress tolerance, to hold tension without retreating into blame, avoidance or false harmony. It’s about staying connected to what matters, even when the situation or the people around us feel challenging.
When we live and work this way, mindset becomes something far richer than “staying positive”. It becomes an ongoing practice of integrity, one that welcomes every part of being human: the messy, the brave, the contradictory and the kind.
Because the goal isn’t to be endlessly happy or polished. It’s to be aligned, to stay grounded in our values, open to our emotions, and connected to ourselves and each other.
And while we’ll fail at times (we all do), each time we honour our own compass while allowing others to hold theirs, we make space for a deeper kind of wellbeing, one built not on performance or perfection, but on presence, compassion and genuine connection.
The door we feared opening doesn’t lead to chaos.
It leads to freedom.
Learn More with SJP Wellbeing
At SJP Wellbeing, we believe authenticity is where true wellbeing begins. Whether through therapy, coaching or education, we support people to navigate the real-world tension between who they are, what they value and how they show up.
If this reflection resonates, explore our wellbeing and education programs. These are spaces designed to help you move beyond the idea of a positive mindset and into the lived experience of a wholehearted, values-aligned life.
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