As the months in 2020 continue to roll by, it seems each week there’s some new unbelievable and terrible thing going on. I don’t mean to be all doom and gloom, of course, good things are happening too. Babies are being born, people are getting married, dogs are still cute. Lately though, when I’m online, the thing that has driven me the craziest is toxic positivity. And when it’s coming from me, the eternally cup-half-full archetype, it’s really bad.
Ruthe Bader Ginsburg & me
Today is the first Monday in October – 27 years ago, Ruth Bader Ginsburg took her seat on the Supreme Court bench for the first time. Just about two weeks ago, Judge Ruth Bader Ginsburg passed away after an incredible life where she paved the way in women’s rights. And it sucked. As if mourning the loss of this irreplaceable icon was not enough, there, of course, has been talk about a replacement before the 2020 election, now less than a month away. The nominee – Judge Amy Coney Barrett.
Since the moment RBG passed, a pit formed in my stomach at the possibility of who would fill her shoes. Amy, a woman who benefited greatly from the lifelong mission of Justice Ginsburg’s work, now stands with the potential to destroy much of that legacy for women to follow. As a young woman and just as an American, I am worried for myself and for those around me who stand to be most impacted.
To make matters worse, and to get to the point of why I am speaking about the Supreme Court in an article about toxic positivity, Amy Coney Barrett is a Kappa Delta, just like me.
A surprise sorority girl
I know I don’t tend to fit the sorority girl stereotype – but I really loved my time in Greek Life. When my mom passed away, my sorority sisters piled in the car, drove hours, and stayed the night in the nastiest motel in town, just to be by my side. They taught me to be a better leader and pushed me to become active in my local community through on-campus and philanthropic initiatives. Not every sorority woman has the experience I have had, but I am forever thankful for the lessons I learned and for the friendships I fostered.
Anyway, when the news came out, women from across the country were torn on their feelings about the nomination. The alumna groups I belong to on Facebook were ablaze. Women of all ages in heated discussions about right and wrong. And I could handle that. I don’t like it when someone disagrees with me, especially over the rights of myself and the ones I love. But at least it’s a standpoint. What I hate even more is toxic positivity.
Toxic positivity
In the middle of heated debates and passionate arguments, I would see a comment like this.
“I’m rooting for everyone.” “I’m here to support ALL of my sisters!” “I think we should support ALL women!”
At first, these sound nice, right? What’s wrong with longing to support everyone? Well, as the saying goes, “if you don’t stand for something, you’ll fall for everything.”
You simply can’t support everyone – because some people are bad. They’re bad and shitty. So how can you support them AND the people they’re mistreating? An easy example – “I support everyone! Hitler and all of the millions of people he killed!” or, more recently, “I support ALL my sisters – Judge Amy Coney Barrett and all of the sisters who stand to have their rights taken away … by her.” Absolute insanity.
The sentiment sounds nice, it really does. And sometimes, it does work. If I was saying ALL women meaning trans-women, women of color, women regardless of their race, sexuality, religion … you get it. That makes sense. That I understand. But to insert yourself into a battle between what to many is the battle of a lifetime, good versus evil, and say, “I support everyone!” – it just doesn’t add up.
Toxic positivity and how it’s not making you nicer
I truly feel the people who say these things sit there and think; look how nice I am. I am so nice that I have enough love in my heart to be above arguments and disagreements. I have enough love to love everyone, to not have an opinion, to not have a voice.
It doesn’t make you nice. In fact, I think it makes you one of the worst kinds of people. Like people who say they won’t vote because it doesn’t impact them. It’s a privilege to sit idly by and not have an opinion. To not feel a pit in your stomach and flames in your blood – because you know none of these issues will impact you. Knowing that no matter who takes that seat, no matter who is elected – your life will continue on just the same. That is a privilege.
Most people have privilege to some extent, it is the way of the world. Your privilege doesn’t necessarily make you a bad person. What does is burying your head in the sand. Ignoring it. Pretending it’s not real. Refusing to use that privilege to amplify the voices of those without it.
Toxic positivity and how it’s not making you happier
When my mom died, I wanted people to marvel at me. I wanted them to think, “Wow, how does she do it?” To be honest, I think a lot of people did. I was a bulldozer. Three weeks after her death I was back to work, out and about in the world even though a whole part of mine was gone.
Over time, I realized that forcing myself to be positive did not equate to happiness. There are so many places where fake it ’till you make it is great advice. This isn’t one of them.
In 2020, we’re all trying our best. Everywhere you look, it’s been a hard year. People have lost their loved ones and their livelihoods. Just last week, the company I adored working for announced major layoffs after over seven months of furlough for thousands of employees. Unfortunately, after years of hard work, I was one in 28,000 let go. And it sucks. It’s heartbreaking to leave a job you loved and even harder to see friends go through the same experience all around you.
My first thought was to go into it, positivity blazing. I am, truly at heart, a blindly optimistic person. And while that is authentic to me, so is knowing that with that positivity sometimes needs to come pain.
Being any other of the rainbow of emotions is what leads to true happiness again. Allowing ourselves to feel sad, allowing ourselves to fall apart and not be okay. It’s important.
For months this year, I wanted to write. I wanted to design something, be creative. Really, just feel the typical motivation and purpose that drives my day-to-day. Every time I even tried to think about opening my computer, the task felt daunting. There was a day when I truly felt like I hated the sunshine pouring through my window, and I thought, who have I become? But I was still the same person, just sad, and anxious, and scared. And even then, we are all still enough.
