“Toxic positivity” has become one of the most popular psychological labels of recent years. Looking on the bright side when something goes wrong, trying to pull ourselves together when we feel low, or believing that something good will eventually come out of everything we experience can all, at times, be placed under the same heading. Yet I find myself somewhat reluctant to declare positivity itself “toxic” quite so quickly. There is something I have gradually noticed about myself. In the face of life’s difficulties, looking for the better side of things has become almost instinctive. I do not know how much of this is part of my character and how much is a coping strategy I have developed over time. What I do know is that, at some point, I began choosing it consciously. If I cannot change what has happened, I can change the way I look at it. Perhaps that is not always the most realistic perspective. But it may not always be the least useful one either.
Psychology has, in fact, been exploring for decades the possibility that people may distort their perceptions of themselves and their futures slightly in a positive direction. In 1988, Shelley Taylor and Jonathon Brown introduced the concept of “positive illusions”, suggesting that psychological well-being does not necessarily require us to perceive reality with perfect accuracy. People tend to evaluate themselves somewhat more positively, perceive their sense of control as slightly greater than it actually is, and remain a little more optimistic about the future than reality alone might justify. Taylor and Brown argued that, under certain circumstances, these small illusions may do more than simply make us feel better; they may also help us cope with stress and maintain psychological adjustment.
When the idea was first proposed, it was rather provocative. For a long time, one of the presumed markers of psychological health was the ability to perceive reality accurately. Taylor and Brown introduced another possibility: perhaps psychological well-being does not always mean seeing everything exactly as it is, but also being able to see certain realities in a way that allows us to live with them.
Research conducted by Taylor and colleagues with people facing cancer, for example, has shown that individuals confronted with a serious threat can develop positive beliefs about their future, their sense of control and their circumstances. Such cognitive adaptations have been associated with psychological well-being and have become an important part of the literature exploring how people adjust to threatening experiences. Of course, this idea is far from uncontested. Taylor and Brown’s positive-illusions framework has subsequently been challenged, with critics arguing that the evidence does not establish that positive illusions directly cause better psychological health. I think this distinction matters. The argument is not that the more unrealistic a story we tell ourselves, the better we will be. The more interesting possibility is that the human mind does not always need to carry the full weight of reality all at once in order to function — and perhaps, in some circumstances, it functions better when it does not.
This is where the distinction between different psychological processes becomes important. Vaillant’s concept of suppression does not mean pretending that something has not happened. Rather, it refers to the capacity to temporarily move a distressing thought or feeling away from the centre of conscious attention and continue with life. A person can remain aware of what they are experiencing while allowing themselves some distance from it, deciding when and how they will confront it. Vaillant considered suppression among the more mature defence mechanisms, suggesting that, when used effectively, it can help regulate the emotional burden of stress without severing a person’s connection to reality. Thinking about this has changed the way I see toxic positivity, too. Perhaps, in some circumstances, “looking on the bright side” is not an attempt to deny reality, but a way of creating enough distance to bear it.
When someone experiences a profound loss, for instance, they may initially tell themselves, “At least they are no longer suffering.” The sentence does not erase the loss. It simply gives the mind permission not to carry its entire weight in a single moment. The pain may return later — and it probably will. But perhaps, by then, the person has had enough space to breathe, to stand up, and to keep going. This is the part of toxic positivity that interests me most. Perhaps, for some people, positivity is not a way of escaping reality but a way of remaining within it.
I have noticed this in my own life, too. When something negative happens, my mind almost instinctively searches for another possibility — not necessarily to make what happened seem better than it was, but to find a perspective from which I can continue living with it. At some point, I realised that this had become a choice. If I cannot change what happened, I can change the way I look at it. Perhaps that is not always the most realistic way of thinking. But perhaps a person does not always need to carry the full weight of reality all at once.And perhaps this is why we should be careful not to place all defence mechanisms in the same category. Some may distance us from reality; others may, paradoxically, help us remain within it. One of the most interesting aspects of Vaillant’s decades-long work on psychological defences is precisely this: psychological maturity does not necessarily mean never needing a defence mechanism. It may instead involve knowing which defence is serving us, under what circumstances, and to what extent.
So when does positivity become toxic?I think this is where the real question begins. Because there is an important difference between positive thinking and feeling that we have to think positively. A 2026 scoping review bringing together 59 studies on toxic positivity found that the concept still does not have clearly established boundaries as a psychological construct. Across the literature, it has been described in terms including emotional suppression, invalidation of negative emotions, unrealistic optimism and the performance of an inauthentic form of happiness. The review also considers self-protection — the need to psychologically protect oneself — as one possible source of toxic positivity. This distinction matters to me. Because perhaps there is a significant difference between whether a thought is positive and why we need that thought.
“I can get through this” is not the same as “I should not be upset because everything will be fine.” The first can create a sense of agency. The second may, over time, make it harder to acknowledge the emotion itself. The same form of positivity can act as a buffer in one situation and a wall in another. Perhaps the most useful way to understand toxic positivity, then, is not to ask how positive a thought is, but what the positivity is doing. If a thought gives someone enough breathing room to continue through a difficult experience without denying what they are going through, perhaps labelling it simply as “toxic” is too easy. But if a person no longer allows themselves to feel sadness, anger, grief or fear, replacing those emotions with a compulsory optimism, then the same mechanism can become something else entirely.
Positivity can be protective when it acts as a buffer between a person and the full emotional force of reality. It can become toxic when it begins to replace reality itself. Perhaps psychological resilience is not about turning everything into something good. Perhaps it is about acknowledging what is bad without allowing it to become the entirety of our story. Sometimes, hope is not a denial of reality. It is a way of continuing to live alongside it. And perhaps healthy positivity is not believing that life will always be beautiful. It is remembering, even when it is not, that this is not all that life is.
Kaynakça
- Taylor, S. E., & Brown, J. D. (1988). Illusion and well-being: A social psychological perspective on mental health. Psychological Bulletin, 103(2), 193–210. https://doi.org/10.1037/0033-2909.103.2.193
- Vaillant, G. E. (1976). Natural history of male psychological health: V. The relation of choice of ego mechanisms of defense to adult adjustment. Archives of General Psychiatry, 33(5), 535–545. https://doi.org/10.1001/archpsyc.1976.01770050003001
- Vaillant, G. E. (1992). Ego mechanisms of defense: A guide for clinicians and researchers. American Psychiatric Press.
- Premlal, P., & Jose, J. (2026). Toxic positivity: A scoping review. [Journal details to be verified].