Ok listen, I am not a pessimist. Im not a storm cloud in leggings. I am a REALIST! I prepare for the worst and hope for the best. That’s not negativity, that is wearing an emotional seatbelt! That’s survival!
So, when I share something that is weighing heavily on my heart, or something that is causing me anxiety, and some aggressively cheerful optimist pops up like a golden retriever hopped up on motivational posters? I want to punch them in their happy positive face!
“Don’t worry! Everything will work itself out!”
Will it Becky? Will it really? Based on what? Your crystal ball and essential oils?
Cause here’s the thing, when someone is super optimistic, it doesn’t make me calmer. It doesn’t reassure me. It doesn’t lift my spirits or realign my chakras or whatever the fuck it’s intended to do. No. It makes me feel like my feeling got run over by a freaking semi truck of toxic positivity. It makes my feelings feel fictional. As if my concerns are just adorable little dramatic flourishes instead of, you know, legit thoughts based on actual patterns and trauma.
What I need is to feel validated. I need support. I need somebody to say “Yeah, that could go wrong. Let’s be mildly concerned together.”
A little shared worry is comforting. It is affirming. It tells me I am not alone.
I am not asking for people to spiral into a pit of dread with me. I just want some acknowledgement that my feelings are fair. A smidge of realism. Because when I bring up a concern or talk about something big that could go wrong, and somebody responds with straight up unshakeable optimism, what I hear is: “Your feelings are unnecessary. You are overreacting”.
And that, my friends, is when I want to punch a fucking optimist.
So to all the optimists in my life: I love you. I appreciate you. I admire your ability to believe the world is one giant inspirational poster, but please, for the sake of my sanity - ust worry with me for like 15 seconds! You have no idea how calming that would be.
And here’s to the realists: the planners, the preparers, the people who carry Band-Aids “just in case” and know where the exits are. You're my people! We’re not negative. We’re not dramatic. We’re the reason other people get to float through life with their optimism intact.
And honestly? You’re welcome.
So, when I share something that is weighing heavily on my heart, or something that is causing me anxiety, and some aggressively cheerful optimist pops up like a golden retriever hopped up on motivational posters? I want to punch them in their happy positive face!
“Don’t worry! Everything will work itself out!”
Will it Becky? Will it really? Based on what? Your crystal ball and essential oils?
Cause here’s the thing, when someone is super optimistic, it doesn’t make me calmer. It doesn’t reassure me. It doesn’t lift my spirits or realign my chakras or whatever the fuck it’s intended to do. No. It makes me feel like my feeling got run over by a freaking semi truck of toxic positivity. It makes my feelings feel fictional. As if my concerns are just adorable little dramatic flourishes instead of, you know, legit thoughts based on actual patterns and trauma.
What I need is to feel validated. I need support. I need somebody to say “Yeah, that could go wrong. Let’s be mildly concerned together.”
A little shared worry is comforting. It is affirming. It tells me I am not alone.
I am not asking for people to spiral into a pit of dread with me. I just want some acknowledgement that my feelings are fair. A smidge of realism. Because when I bring up a concern or talk about something big that could go wrong, and somebody responds with straight up unshakeable optimism, what I hear is: “Your feelings are unnecessary. You are overreacting”.
And that, my friends, is when I want to punch a fucking optimist.
So to all the optimists in my life: I love you. I appreciate you. I admire your ability to believe the world is one giant inspirational poster, but please, for the sake of my sanity - ust worry with me for like 15 seconds! You have no idea how calming that would be.
And here’s to the realists: the planners, the preparers, the people who carry Band-Aids “just in case” and know where the exits are. You're my people! We’re not negative. We’re not dramatic. We’re the reason other people get to float through life with their optimism intact.
And honestly? You’re welcome.