Look Beyond the Bright Side

By Jiner Huang ’28

Last year, I told one of my friends that I felt super bloated after eating Forbes chicken parm for what felt like the third time in two weeks. The response I received was one of knee-jerk denial: “Don’t say that, you’re a skinny queen!” I have to admit to feeling a little stumped by the remark, as it sounded, one, blatantly untrue, and two, more than a little superficial. Arguing against the “compliment” would have made me look ungrateful, but accepting the untrue statement would have invalidated my own reality. It should come as no surprise that I chose to write an article about it instead, for the trend persists far beyond post-dorm dinner quips. At Milton, we seem to feel urgently compelled to erase any smidgen of discomfort or negativity the moment it appears in our conversations. Positivity becomes performative, even toxic, when it is driven solely by our fear of appearing passive and emotionally unintelligent. When we rush to bulldoze over any mundane discomfort with forced compliments and cheer, we, in reality, prioritize our own moral image over genuine empathy.

Granted, positivity is essential to our day-to-day interactions. It is incredibly easy to fall into cycles of negativity at Milton, because there are so many things to complain about: the three in-class writing assignments in one day, the 10 pm dorm meeting, and the difficulty of coordinating open lab times are just a few examples. When our lives appear to be fraught with difficulties—no matter how trifling—positivity is what helps us keep each other afloat. But when the ability to “be supportive” is conflated with the ability to “be a cheerleader,” outward positivity becomes a measure of moral standing. Sitting silently alongside someone else’s discontent makes us feel complicit and uncaring. But the forced compliment and compulsory positive outlook, according to a 2003 article in the Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, are in fact means of emotional suppression that function as defense mechanisms to regulate the listener’s discomfort without helping the speaker process their emotions. In other words, positivity becomes toxic because we use it to protect our own self-image as supportive, uplifting people. Conversely, remaining silent or offering the underwhelming “that sucks” response feels like a social failure, and forced compliments are employed to defend against the anxiety of being perceived as passive or unsupportive.

Psychology Today defines toxic positivity as “the act of avoiding, suppressing, or rejecting negative emotions or experiences.” At Milton, however, the problem has widened in scope: this mindset is extrapolated to any non-positive emotion or expression, and we have in turn abandoned emotional neutrality altogether. We feel the need to channel positivity constantly because we treat any non-positive emotion as a problem to be solved when, in reality, it is but a normal human state to be experienced. A community as high-achieving and competitive as Milton leaves little room for neutral or low-energy states, except maybe in the chemistry classroom. Our emotional wellbeing has been fit into a binary: we are either achieving inspiring success or actively battling crisis, with nothing in between. While self-deprecation and emphatic discontent should indeed be addressed with reassurance, our more neutral non-positive observations—like bloating, tiredness, or having a bad day—should not be addressed with the same blanket response of forced cheer. Modern psychology has embraced, as an alternative to “body positivity,” the concept of “body neutrality,” which holds that our bodies do not need to be constantly praised or romanticized to be valid, because sometimes a stomach is just digesting food. The same approach, when applied to other aspects of social-emotional health, can help establish better understanding between the speaker and the listener.

Contrary to popular belief, constant and compulsory positivity makes real vulnerability much more difficult. When any expression of difficulty or negativity is greeted with a canned script that lands on “look at the bright side,” our relationships become shallow and scripted. Positivity is helpful and certainly appreciated, but only when it emerges out of emotional presence and understanding. In an age that values the convenient, efficient response more so than it does patience and compassion, empathy requires the maturity to sit with discomfort without scrambling for an immediate solution. Honesty, especially in response to emotion, is more important than ever; forced positivity is dishonest and felt by both sides. Authentic connection is what allows each of us to thrive at Milton. To continue encouraging it, we must give ourselves permission to express and respond without performing optimism, as an empathetic presence is much more human than any contrived positivity.

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Look Beyond the Bright Side
The Milton Paper