When our efforts to feel better become another way of turning away from ourselves.
Most of us have been encouraged, at one time or another, to look on the bright side.
To focus on what's going well. To practice gratitude. To choose thoughts that help us feel more hopeful, optimistic, and empowered.
If you'd prefer to watch the YouTube video on this same topic, you can find it here.
And there's real value in these practices. Our thoughts influence how we experience the world, and consciously shifting our perspective can sometimes help us find possibilities we might otherwise overlook.
But there's an important distinction that often gets lost in conversations about positive thinking.
Are we choosing a different perspective because it genuinely supports us? Or are we using it to avoid something we don't want to feel?
Because while those two things might look similar from the outside, they can create very different experiences within us.
When Positive Thinking Becomes Emotional Avoidance
Imagine something doesn't go the way you hoped, and you feel disappointed.
Almost immediately, another part of you steps in with a reminder:
I should be grateful for what I have. Things could be so much worse.
Or perhaps someone has disrespected you or crossed a boundary, and you feel angry.
But before you've had much opportunity to acknowledge that anger, you remind yourself:
Only hurt people hurt people. They must be suffering. I should have compassion.
Neither gratitude nor compassion is inherently misplaced in these situations. Both can be meaningful and genuinely supportive ways of relating to life.
But notice what happens when we reach for them before we've made any room for what we're actually experiencing.
Our disappointment is still there. Our anger is still there.
And now, layered on top of those feelings, is the suggestion that we shouldn't be having them in the first place.
We may begin to relate to our own emotional experience as something that needs to be corrected, replaced, or transcended.
And what began as an attempt to feel better can quietly become another form of self-rejection.
The Nervous System Connection
Our emotions aren't simply ideas we have about our experiences. They're also physiological events, involving changes in our nervous system, bodily sensations, attention, and impulses.
When something feels threatening, disappointing, or overwhelming, our bodies may respond before we've had time to make sense of what's happening.
We might notice tightness in the chest, heat in the face, a knot in the stomach, or a sudden sense of shutting down.
These responses aren't necessarily signs that something has gone wrong. They're part of how our systems register and respond to life.
And while changing our thoughts can sometimes help us feel differently, it doesn't always immediately change what's happening physiologically.
This is especially relevant for people who have experienced chronic stress or trauma. Our nervous systems can become particularly sensitive to certain situations, and the resulting reactions may not respond to reassurance or positive thinking alone.
So when we tell ourselves that we shouldn't feel angry, afraid, jealous, or disappointed, we may inadvertently add another layer of tension to an already difficult experience.
Not only are we having the original feeling, but we're also struggling against the fact that we're having it.
Over time, this habit of resisting our internal experience can make it harder to recognize what we need and respond to ourselves with care.
Emotional Honesty, Not Emotional Perfection
I think one of the more subtle distortions in modern self-development is the idea that we're supposed to condition ourselves out of certain aspects of being human.
That if we do enough inner work, become conscious enough, or learn to manage our thoughts effectively enough, we'll eventually stop experiencing the emotions we find uncomfortable.
But I'm not sure that's a particularly helpful measure of growth.
Anger, disappointment, jealousy, fear, grief, and insecurity are all part of the human experience.
And while we may want to change how we respond to these feelings, we don't necessarily need to eliminate them in order to become healthier, happier, or more grounded.
In fact, our efforts to get rid of them can sometimes create the very internal conflict we're trying to resolve.
What if emotional well-being has less to do with maintaining a particular emotional state and more to do with developing the capacity to be with the full range of our experience?
That doesn't mean indulging every emotion, believing every thought, or acting on every impulse.
It means learning to recognize what's happening within us without immediately turning against it.
We can acknowledge anger without acting aggressively.
We can make room for jealousy without allowing it to dictate our choices.
We can feel disappointed and still recognize the things we're grateful for.
These experiences don't have to cancel one another out.
We have the capacity to hold more than one truth at a time.
A Different Way to Respond to Difficult Feelings
So what might this look like in practice?
The next time you notice something uncomfortable arising, see if you can resist the urge to immediately reframe it, explain it away, or make yourself feel differently.
Instead, begin by noticing what's happening.
Perhaps there's a tightening in your throat, a heaviness in your chest, or a restless feeling in your stomach.
You don't need to know exactly what the sensation means. You don't even need to identify the emotion right away.
Simply notice that something is happening within you.
And then, if it feels manageable, experiment with bringing a little understanding and care to that experience.
You might silently acknowledge:
I'm noticing something in me feels upset.
Of course this is difficult.
It's okay that this is here.
These aren't affirmations intended to make the feeling disappear.
They're ways of beginning to relate to your experience differently.
Rather than meeting discomfort with correction or rejection, you're practicing meeting it with presence and support.
And that shift matters.
Because when we no longer have to spend so much energy fighting what we're feeling, we may find that we have more room to understand it, respond to it, and eventually move forward.
A Note About Turning Inward
For some people, noticing bodily sensations and emotions feels relatively accessible.
For others, particularly those with histories of chronic stress or trauma, turning inward can feel overwhelming or confusing.
Internal sensations may feel unusually intense, difficult to interpret, or barely noticeable at all.
If that's your experience, there's no need to force yourself to stay with uncomfortable feelings.
You might begin by noticing something in your environment instead—the colors around you, the support of the chair beneath you, or a sound in the distance.
You can move between your inner experience and the world around you, allowing your attention to settle wherever it feels most manageable.
The intention isn't to push through discomfort. It's to develop a relationship with yourself that feels increasingly supportive.
Making Room for Both
One of the things I appreciate about this approach is that it doesn't require us to abandon positive thinking.
We can still practice gratitude.
We can still look for possibilities.
We can still choose perspectives that help us feel hopeful, empowered, and connected to what matters.
But we don't have to use those practices to override the parts of ourselves that are struggling.
We can acknowledge disappointment and feel grateful.
We can understand someone else's suffering and recognize that their behavior hurt us.
We can make room for fear and move toward something meaningful.
In fact, when we're no longer trying to force ourselves into a particular emotional state, positive perspectives may become more genuinely available to us.
Not because we've successfully eliminated everything uncomfortable, but because we've made enough room for our experience that we no longer need to fight with ourselves about it.
And perhaps that's a more useful understanding of emotional freedom.
Not the freedom to feel good all the time.
But the freedom to experience the full range of being human without constantly turning against ourselves.
Explore This Work More Deeply
If this perspective resonates, I invite you to explore The Keystone Method and Withness Training, where we practice developing a more secure, supportive relationship with ourselves—not by trying to eliminate difficult experiences, but by learning how to meet them differently.
Watch my free recorded class to explore the foundations of this approach.
Or learn more about The Keystone Method + Withness Training if you're ready to begin practicing.