Let's Quit 'Bright-Siding'

The dark side of forcing someone to see the silver lining

I’m sure like many of you, I’ve been horrified to see the devastation of the recent wildfires in California. It’s challenging to comprehend the tremendous loss of life, homes, wildlife, livelihood, and belongings of so many people, not to mention the impact on the broader community. It’s hard to not be moved by such a disaster and to feel for everyone involved.

Evacuating without notice and fleeing for your life, to find out later that your home and everything you owned has burned down, is huge.

And I’ve also seen a lot of rhetoric of people tending to look on the bright side of things and minimize the experiences of what the people at the centre of this crisis are experiencing. They’re being told “at least you’re lucky to be alive” and “things can be replaced”. It’s something that I’ve grumpily observed in the last few years and I recently learned it’s called ‘bright-siding’ from reading this post from Gina Moffa.

I understand the intention is well-meaning. It’s an attempt to cheer someone up, to get them to look on the bright side, or in other words or get them to feel a different way than they feel. But when you’re experiencing a crisis, this can feel invalidating and disconnecting in the least, and harmful at worst.

Even though it comes from a good place, it can be quite toxic.

Beautiful dappled light peeking through or storm clouds rolling? It’s like one of those inkblot tests…

I noticed this after I received my cancer diagnosis and people were SO swift to tell me how lucky I was for getting the type of cancer that I did and it being caught at the stage it was discovered. This happened to me even before my surgery, so I didn’t know the stage and I was facing a whole lot of unknowns. But people desperately needed me to “stay positive” and fiercely told me that I was “lucky” I had this kind of cancer.

Of course I’m grateful that the cancer I had was treatable and not worse. Absolutely. And I found it so strange that that was where people’s first instinct went immediately after I shared my diagnosis. I’m not looking for sympathy for this. It’s nearly been two years since I completed my treatment and I’m cancer free¹, but I’m using it as an example of the strangeness of our inclination to do this.

Why, when people have received awful news, are we so quick to want them to look on the bright side? Why, when someone tells us that they have just learned they have cancer is it our instinct to tell them that they should consider themselves lucky?² Why, when someone’s entire house has burned down and they’ve barely escaped, would we tell them to be grateful they didn’t die?

It comes down to our own comfort. We’re uncomfortable with seeing another person in pain. We want them to feel better so we can feel better. But telling someone to look on the bright side or stay positive doesn’t change the reality of a situation. It won’t magically create a home for someone to live in, or un-burn their childhood photos, or remove a cancerous tumour.

I will note, it’s different if someone is silver lining themselves, rather than you doing it for them. If someone has just lost their home and mentions they feel lucky that they and their loved ones all escaped safely, and that their house can be replaced, that is one thing. That is true for them. If you do it for them, it can be invalidating and minimizing.

In this case, I wonder if there some social conditioning that means we feel the need to do it to ourselves. Maybe you notice you do it to yourself too (I know I do). But that aside, I try to come back to what’s true.

When another person is going through something really hard, it’s not our job to fix. We can only connect into the reality of what’s happened. And meet them there, heart to heart. When we can listen someone’s pain and truly empathize, it makes space for whatever is there to just be. And in some cases, maybe the good feelings will show up naturally anyway. It’s not on us to force them.³

Feeling our feelings, and allowing other people to have theirs, is a radical act of care we can practise with one another.

1. Gratefully! Of course! Yes, gratefully! *sweats profusely*

2. I rather think getting any kind of cancer is sort of an unlucky thing, no matter which was you spin it… or is that just me?

3. I really needed a third footnote here. Just felt wrong to leave it at only two. So here it is.