Toxic Positivity and Grief—What You Need to Know

Have you ever revealed your deepest loss-of-child grief pain to someone only to have her give you an immediate comeback of super-positive or upbeat thinking they believe you should focus on? Something to get you over your slump?

What they may be guilty of is toxic positivity.

While there is no question that being positive and grateful is good for the brain and good for you physically and emotionally, it sometimes does more harm than good when you're mired deeply in child-loss grief, and your heart is bled out and raw.

Thinking back—

Do you remember a time when someone responded in a nauseatingly positive way when all you wanted to do was share your heart's pain and have a listening heart hear it?

How did it make you feel?

I remember a lot of overly upbeat sentiments shared with me after after my daughter's death. Things like:

"Oh, you can have more babies."

"Just forget it and move on." ("It?" This one came from an obstetrician friend.)

"You should try again for a girl!" (When I stood in the post office line with my two sons and the stranger in front of me thought she had the right to encourage or motivate me with that comment.)

And I remember the effect these toxic words and advice had.

Shock.

Shame.

Embarrassment.

A sense of lacking, or being inadequate.

Betrayed.

Devastated.

Misunderstood.

Anger.

The emotion list could go on and on.

Instead of being encouraging, most responses made me retreat into myself, believe people couldn't relate to my pain, didn't want to relate to it, and were too eager to have me get back to life and living.

My pain made them uncomfortable.

So I really shouldn't share it.

Biggest Culprits—

Unfortunately, and embarrassingly, Christians are often the biggest culprits of toxic positivity. They're too quick to recite Bible passages meant to encourage the griever. To help them put their grief in God's perspective. (As if the griever were ignorant about all those passages.)

While their hearts might be in the right place, often their mouths aren't. They aren't listening with their hearts.

Or their timing is all off.

But now comes the hard question: Are you guilty of doing that to someone?

I know I am.

Yes, there are many, many Bible passage exhorting us to lift one another up, but there's also that big one that tells us we need to "weep with those who weep."

To weep with a grieving person, we need to listen deeply. And hold. And then, when the griever's heart is receptive, encourage them with more upbeat words and thinking.

We need to walk alongside them, not rush ahead, drag them forward, or get behind them and push.

But I don't want us to get way ahead of ourselves here, I want to take time to explore this, so we can really learn and heighten our sensitivities and hone our responses to broken, hurting hearts.

What's ahead—

Next week, you'll want to head over to my author and mentor website. That's where I'm going to take the entire month of February Saturdays to cover this new, hot topic, which you may have heard about. In those weekly blog posts, we'll:

Define toxic positivity.

Provide examples of it.

Give you ways to deal with and respond to it. (If you're the damaged griever.)

Help you develop good handholding and empathy skills. (If you're the loving friend.)

Discuss the benefits of positivity and how to incorporate that into your life—at the right time.

Toxic positivity definition—

But I do want to leave you with something to think about today, so let's get started with the current definition of toxic positivity.

"Toxic positivity is promoting the ideal or goal that, no matter the circumstances, one should always and only maintain a positive, happy or optimistic mindset."

In other words, "Happy, happy, happy!" at all times, and in all things.

Is there anything wrong with this thinking?

Well, no, and yes.

And that's what we're going to be exploring this month, in small, helpful, bite-size increments. Helpful for the griever, and the one the griever seeks support and empathy from.

It's going to be a great month of learning.

Hope you can join me!

Invitation—

For this week, meditate on the toxic positivity definition. Se where your thoughts take you on this. Maybe jot down times you've experienced toxic positivity from a well-meaning friend, or when you think you've been guilting of it. Maybe you'll find you need to do some forgiving, or apologizing at some future point.

On a side note: After a bout with COVID right at the beginning of the New Year, it's good to be teaching and mentoring again!

Blessings,

Andrea

"I pray that you may prosper in all things and be in health, just as your soul prospers" (3 John 2).

Andrea Arthur Owan, M.S., A.T., R., is a fitness pro, speaker, award-winning inspirational writer, memoirist, and senior-ordained chaplain (IFOC). She helps people thrive physically, emotionally, and spiritually, and recover from grief, loss and trauma.

The Pain of Losing a Grandchild: Does it Compare with Your Child's Pain?

Grandparents suffer when a grandchild dies. But does their pain compare with their grieving child's pain?

Losing a child sucks the life out of you. Your heart’s crushed beyond repair. You have no strength for life, and you don’t care if life goes on without you or not. Most of the time it seems as thought it would be easier—and more merciful—if it did go on without you. Crawling into the grave with your child seems like a better, more bearable option.

But what about the grandparents pain? The mother or father of the son whose child has died? The grandmother and grandfather who also harbored hopes and dreams for their grandchild, looked forward to spoiling, encouraging, teaching and loving their once-removed progeny? What about them and their pain?

It’s a delicate act, grieving your grandchild, grieving for your child that’s lost their offspring. Should the grief attention be divided equally? What about the anger you—as a grandparent—feel about the loss?

Do you really understand what your child is going through when they’ve lost theirs?

My friend and fellow memoir writer, Mary Lou Forier, shares a beautiful account of her experience with being a grieving grandparent in her recently-published family memoir TALLAK! immigrant.

In the book, she recounts the matriarch, Ellen, Forier’s great-grandmother, loss of several grandchildren. Then Forier reminisces about her own pain.

“My own granddaughter Kaera died of leukemia when she was two years old. I stood by as my son and his wife struggled with weeks in the hospital, then home for a week, then back to the hospital for the next treatment. Kaera’s leukemia did not go into remission, treatment decisions mounted: increase dosage? consider bone marrow transplant? experiment? And finally, the hardest decision of all…stop. Just stop. My pain seemed multiplied, watching the heartbreak of my son and his wife, and feeling the heartbreak of losing my grandchild, but a grandmother’s pain is complex; my son lived, his child died. The grief belonged to him; to claim it for myself felt like trivializing his. In 1879, the death of a child was much more common than in 2012. We supposed, today, that because it was more commonplace, it was easier for the survivors to accept, and their grief was less than we feel today. I disagree. We grieved the same, Ellen and me.”

When I first read this passage during our memoir writers critique group session, I was overwhelmed by Mary Lou’s wisdom and grace in the face of her own pain. The selflessness of her attitude and actions. As a mother who has lost a child, I applaud her.

When you lose a child, shouldering and surviving through your own pain is difficult enough without feeling as though you’re obliged to share it with your own parents, even though you know their hearts are broken too.

Mary Lou got it. She’d never known the suffocating, crushing pain of losing a child herself, so she didn’t pretend she did.

If she had tried to make her pain equal to theirs, I think she would have robbed them of their parental grieving rights, to allow them to fully submerge in the ablution of grief, so they could be restored—body, mind and spirit.

To all of you grieving grandparents, I hear your heart. You are not forgotten. Your pain is real, and deep, and valid.

But know that it is different.

And cling to the truth that God hears your broken heart and grieves with you.

Andrea

For more encouragement and help in living your best life—physically, emotionally and spiritually, head to my author website It’s your place for spiritual inspiration, hope and healthier living!

Know the Signs and Symptoms of Chronic Depression (aka Dysthymia or Persistent Depressive Disorder)

It’s a holiday picture of a young woman, her husband, and their grinning three-year old son. At first glance, the woman in the picture looks happy. Her hair is well groomed, her makeup expertly applied, her clothing stylish and flattering. And she wears a big smile.

But a close inspection of her blue eyes reveals a dull haze. A kind of fatigue or flatness.

Lifelessness.

Nearly everything about her belies her hidden grief.

But it’s the eyes that give away what’s going on in her mind and heart. Her eyes—the window to what’s going on in her soul.

A picture of depression—

I know that picture well. Twenty-five years ago, those eyes were mine. They stare out from a family picture of Chris, me, and our older son Parker taken around Thanksgiving.

But few people recognized my grief and depression. They thought I was doing just fine. At least the ones I didn’t expose my heart to did.

I evidently did a good job of hiding it. On one occasion, when I was sitting in the back of the room waiting to be called to the podium to speak to a cycling group on training and injury prevention, an acquaintance I hadn’t seen in several years approached me to say hi. He quickly looked me over and said, “Well, it looks as though life has been treating you well!”

I just smiled, nodded and engaged him in a brief chat before I spoke to the group, without saying a word about my recent loss. He left thinking life for me was pretty good and blessed.

I must have put on an exceptionally happy face. A camouflage.

The face of depression—

Mine was just one of the many faces of depression, which was kick-started by the grief I experienced after the death of my daughter.  

So many think it must be easy to spot a depressed person. And sometimes it is. For many, their outward demeanor changes. They don’t want to go out, engage, be social. They prefer to sit around at home alone, binge watching television and snacking, or spending most of their time in bed, never changing out of their rumpled pajamas.

But don’t let yourself be fooled. Depression doesn’t always put on the face you expect.

While my outside might have been smiling and put together, my inside felt numb.

I struggled to find joy in anything. I felt trapped and pressured. And the more I tried to be “normal” the worse it got. Eventually I spiraled down into a state of such numbness that nothing gave me joy. And I became ineffective at life.

Thankfully, I had a doctor that recognized my symptoms and encouraged me to take a medical leave of absence from my technical school teaching position to wade through the psychological and emotional healing—the rest of the grief process—I had avoided for eight months. It wasn't the first time he'd suggested it. But now I knew I really didn't have a choice, if I wanted to heal.

But if my going-through-life-looking-normal depression had continued for another two years, I would have moved into the realm of what professionals call High Functioning Depression, also known as Chronic Depressive Disorder, Dysthmia, or Persistent Depressive Disorder.

Become familiar with Chronic Depressive Disorder—

With 350 million people worldwide and 3.3 million people in the United States suffering with this serious disorder, you’re bound to know someone—a family member, co-worker, or friends—who is chronically depressed. And trying to hide it.

Due to the recent suicides of high-profile people and younger and younger children, depression is gaining more attention these days, so discussing it no longer carries the stigma it once did.

Thank goodness.

Know the signs and symptoms of High Functioning Depression—

Because sufferers can look and act so normal, and even be successful and social, recognizing and diagnosing persistent depressive disorder can be difficult.

Be especially alert this time of year—

Christmas can be a challenging time of year for anyone, but for someone who suffers from 

depression—any kind of depression—it can be particularly rough. They may be even more fragile than normal.

That’s why I’ve chosen now to provide you with this beautiful infograph my friends at BetterHelp have put together. In it they highlight:

• The definition of High Functioning Depression (HFD)
• The risk factors associated with HFD
• The 2 sides of HFD
• The signs of HFD
• The treatment options

I would encourage you to copy the infograph and post it at work, the gym, your club or any other area you think people might be helped by reading it. (For a larger version of this graphic, go to my author blog at andreaarthurowan.com.)

To learn more about depression, go to BetterHelp.

And if you think you or someone you know is suffering from persistent depressive disorder, or any kind of depression, don’t wait any longer to get help. 

You'll learn more about how online therapy with a licensed therapist can help you, and they'll walk you through the process of finding the best therapist for you, all from the convenience, comfort and privacy of your own home.

Until next week,

bring some hope to the hurting.

Blessings,

Andrea

Andrea Arthur Owan is an award-winning freelance writer, 

speaker, teacher and blogger. Her nonfiction and fiction works

have appeared in books, secular and religious magazines and newspapers, teaching manuals, devotionals and theater 

productions. She is also a certified fitness pro and licensed, 

ordained chaplain.

Coffee with the Authors: Inspirational Writers Read

Our first Coffee with the Authors: Inspirational Writers Read at Brewd—A Coffee Lounge in Tucson, AZ was a success!

On Thursday evening, July 12, award-winning inspirational writers Janis Van Keuren, Lori Conser, Andrea Arthur Owan, Bee Bloeser, and newly-released book author, David Collis, shared their stories of faith, miracles, searching for God and answers to prayer.

I shared the story about the nurse who gave me such comfort at my son Cory's chaotic birth. It's the story that Cecil Murphey included in his anthology Heavenly Company: Entertaining Angels Unaware, published by Guideposts. They also used the story on their web landing page. Read "An Angel in Scrubs" here!

Inspiring stories moved the listeners and connected them with the readers!

It was a wonderful evening of fellowship and great food in an intimate setting. The response was overwhelmingly positive, with many saying they couldn’t wait until the next Read. We experienced the truth that well-told stories have the power to move, change and connect us. It was an amazing night!

And many, MANY thanks to Kate and Phil Preble—owners of Brewd—who welcomed us and provided the delicious drinks and eats we enjoyed!

Join Us for the Next One!

We’re planning to make this a quarterly event, so if you’re located in Tucson, and interested in attending as either an inspirational, faith-based writer sharing your story or just an audience member who likes to hear good, inspiring stories that draw you closer to God, drop me a note at LinkedIn or go to my author website (andreaarthurowan.com) "Events and Speaking Engagements" page at http://andreaarthurowan.com/events-and-speaking-engagements/

Meditation Mondays Is On!

Well, after another several hours of backend work and tech chatting, the new site is up and running! It's still a bit out of sync, menu-wise, but if you want to leave a comment on the post, please click on the "Blog" to leave a comment. You won't find the actual blog on that page (it's on the first page), but you can leave a comment for me!

Go to: andreaarthurowan.com

Happy meditating!

Blessings,

Andrea