Optimism and Permission to Feel

I’m an optimist.

I naturally see the bright side of most situations. I always think things will be faster and easier than they are. I expect the best.

And there’s so much good stuff about this part of my personality - I’m super grateful to be an optimist.

Note that the previous sentence was the most meta-optimistic sentence you’re ever likely to read.

But.

Over the past few months I have also experienced som e marked downsides to my natural optimism and the resultant behaviors I’ve perfected over the years. As an optimist and a control-freak, I’ve taken the concept of “take captive every thought” to a new level, sometimes at the expense of allowing myself to experience the natural negative emotions that accompany a circumstance, decision, or season.

The logic goes like this:

1. A person experiencing this thing I’m experiencing could feel some negative emotions. In fact, perhaps I’m experiencing some twinge or shadow of those emotions.
2. But, I don’t see how those emotions are going to help me lead a more fulfilled, productive or happy life.
3. Plus, through the power of logic and intellect, I can talk myself into other emotions that would also be valid for a person experiencing this thing I’m experiencing and that seem more useful, positive, or at least less icky.
4. Therefore, I will choose this second set of more useful emotions rather than that first icky set.

Basically, I just say, “Hmm... this emotion seems to lead to a yucky place, so I’ll just replace it with a more positive or productive emotion.” Or I implicitly tell myself, “What’s the use in feeling this way? Nothing? Well, then, feel this other way instead.”

Now, perhaps this chain of logic makes no sense to you and you are now thinking I am a deeply bizarre and unwell person. I can live with that; I’m just being real here.

And I do believe there’s some utility in this line of reasoning. Over-indulging in negative emotions has some really negative and gross side-effects that I want nothing to do with. I don’t want to ruminate on my hurt or pain or doubt. I don’t want my negative emotions or experiences to monopolize my life. I don’t want to get stuck in the hurt. Choosing to replace something negative with something positive has its time and place (and, Lord knows, I have perfected that process). 

But I’ve also started to learn that honoring and allowing myself to feel what I actually feel, rather than what I think would be more useful or positive to feel, is pretty important. As self-helpy as it sounds, I have learned that there’s some good stuff to honoring what I’m feeling and giving it the space to just be, rather than immediately talking myself out of the efficacy of that emotion.

For example, my long-standing habit in, say, prayer or journaling times has been to talk about something hard or something I feel negative emotions about, and then in the next sentence explain why it’s not really “that bad,”or the other side of the story, or the good that could come of it or how I really ought to feel about it.

What I’m learning is to give space for the icky feelings, the bad experiences, and just to let them feel bad. I don’t always have to talk myself into making them feel ok or immediately seeing the inherent value or lesson in a tough time. It’s ok for me to admit to myself that some things are just hard. They will, eventually, become easier. They will bring their own lessons. But in the middle of it all, it’s ok if it just feels hard.

What does this look like, practically? 

Well, one new practice for me is that every morning in my journal I list out the Sweet and Tough things from the previous day. And now I don’t excuse or justify or un-justify or explain the tough things. I just let them sit in the “tough” column. I don’t try to explain the validity or invalidity of their presence in the column. I just let them be. 

Because it’s ok for something to feel hard or hurtful or icky for its season.

At least, that’s what I’m trying to tell myself.