Good Vibes Only? Please. Let Me Cry in Peace.

Nothing says “healing” like being told to look on the bright side, right? Gee, thanks, Captain Obvious. Why didn’t I think of that? (Insert exaggerated eye roll here.)

Welcome to the world of toxic positivity—that cheery little land where it’s “good vibes only” and “everything happens for a reason.” Except instead of comfort, these lines feel like a slap in the face when you’re drowning in grief.

Today I want to break down why toxic positivity is harmful, how it differs from healthy positivity, and what I actually do to keep positivity in my life without wanting to throat-punch someone holding a motivational poster.

Greatest Hits of Toxic Positivity (aka, Things That Made Me Want to Throw Hands)

“Everything happens for a reason.”

I’ll admit it. I used to say this. A lot. It was my go-to when life felt messy, or when I needed to excuse myself after frustrating someone else. But then I experienced the greatest pain of my life—the loss of my son, Dakota. And I can say with absolute certainty: those words will never leave my mouth again.

Yes, technically, there was a “reason.” A tiny cut in the adrenal gland. That was the reason. But knowing that didn’t make it easier. In fact, it made it worse. It made Dakota’s death even more senseless.

The “At Least” Olympics

When my mom passed, I heard it all:

• At least she’s not in pain anymore.

• At least she waited until the family could say goodbye.

• At least you had a few more months with her.

Guess what? None of those “at leasts” helped. Yes, she wasn’t in pain, but that also meant I couldn’t hug her, hear her voice, or share one more laugh. There is no silver lining big enough to patch that hole.

“Just be grateful.”

Luckily, no one has said this to me in the depths of grief, because frankly, if they had, I might’ve introduced their throat to my fist. Hard.

“You’re so strong.”

This one nearly broke me. I heard it over and over after losing Dakota:

• You’re so strong.

• I don’t know how you do it.

• I wish I was as strong as you.

No. Stop. I didn’t ask for my strength to be tested. And trust me, you don’t wish to be as strong as I’ve had to become—because that would mean going through this kind of pain. And I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.

“You’re so strong” isn’t supportive. It’s patronizing. And it made me want to scream.

Why Toxic Positivity is Harmful

Here’s the thing:

• It shames people for having normal, human feelings.

• It makes sadness, grief, and anger feel like failure.

• It shuts down authentic connection.

And it’s everywhere—especially online.

Scroll Instagram and you’ll find plenty of “wake up at 5 a.m. and journal your way out of grief” advice. No thanks. If emotional suppression worked, therapy wouldn’t be a billion-dollar industry, and half the population wouldn’t be crying in the grocery store aisle.

Toxic positivity isn’t compassion. It’s someone’s discomfort with your feelings, dressed up as a pep talk.

The Difference: Healthy Positivity vs. Fake Cheerleading

Healthy positivity acknowledges reality and still finds hope.

• Example: “I’m here with you. We’ll get through this together.”(I told my daughter this the day we lost Dakota. I didn’t know if I believed it myself, but she needed to hear it.)

Toxic positivity ignores the hard stuff. Healthy positivity embraces it.

For me, healthy positivity has looked like:

• Camping this summer and reconnecting with nature.

• Writing this blog—where I can dump my emotions, stir them around with sarcasm, and maybe make someone else laugh through their tears.

• Laughing at my husband’s ridiculous antics (trust me, there’s never a shortage).

  
  

Wrapping It Up

Positivity doesn’t mean ignoring pain. It means choosing hope without denying reality.

So no—I don’t want your good vibes only. I’ll take my good vibes with a splash of dark humor and a side of ugly crying, thank you very much.