5 Dangers of Gratitude and a Positive Attitude
When I was a child, I was very
well-behaved. I listened to my teachers and earned good grades. I got along
well with other children and followed all the rules. I obeyed my parents and
did helpful things around the house. I rarely got in trouble except for one
thing: My parents complained about my bad attitude.
At ten years old, I had no idea what
an attitude was or how I was supposed to change it. This complaint ruined my
perfect behavior, so I was determined to correct it.
Eventually I figured out the unspoken
family rule: Thou shalt be cheerful.
Looking back, I can see that the pain
and secrets under the weight of my father’s sexual abuse were leaking out
through my “bad attitude.” I had to endure the abuse and then conceal my
feelings about it. The message was, “No matter what’s happening, smile about it
because frowns make others uncomfortable.”
I knew that to be acceptable, I had
to have a good attitude. I took this lesson into adulthood and ingested all the
books and articles I could find on positive thinking. It was almost a
religion—in fact, my church taught it too, except they put a twist on it: “Thou
shalt be cheerful, lest God think you’re ungrateful and take away what little
you have”.
This coping method that helped me
survive as a child followed me in big and small ways into my adult years. It
kept me vulnerable to abuse and perpetuated it.
I learned
to have a positive attitude about everything—things that I should have run
from. I accepted circumstances without questioning them. Instead of making improvements
to my life, I improved the way Iperceived my
life.
My optimism helped me to cope with
the powerlessness I felt, but it blinded me from examining things
realistically. It tied me to an abusive marriage for twenty-one years
while I convinced myself I was happy. I actively searched for good qualities in
my husband and overlooked the fact that he was abusing me and my children.
This false grasp of reality also kept
me serving in an abusive church for many years. I looked the other way while I
was disregarded and dismissed.
One of
those times, I was serving in a demanding role under the associate pastor, who
claimed to be my friend. It was a position outside of my comfort and talents,
but she convinced me that it would be good for my growth. The truth was that it
was what she needed, not what I needed.
After years of serving dutifully in
that role, I was dismissed without a word from my “friend”. She sent a message
through someone else that she was finished with me. No explanation or
appreciation.
Did I allow myself to get mad at this
pastor-friend? Did I confront her dismissive behavior? Did I recognize
that I deserved to be appreciated? Did I set appropriate boundaries? Not at
all.
I put on my happy face and told
myself that this was a good occasion to stop taking myself so seriously. It was
a character-building opportunity that would “humble” me so I was ready for the
next position. My positive spin actually made me think I should be grateful for
the abuse.
For me, there were several dangers of
gratitude and a positive attitude:
§
My positive spin was a form of
denial. It blinded me to the reality of circumstances. I accepted situations
that were harmful instead of changing them or moving away from them. My
positive thinking didn’t produce a positive experience; it condemned me to a
negative one.
§
I believed it was more virtuous to
“grin and bear it”. My smile “proved” that I was stronger than the situation.
In reality, the only thing that was getting stronger was the hold that abuse
and abusers had on me.
§
Under the guise of “looking for the
good”, I believed that abuse was character building and something to be
thankful for. The truth is that abuse is self-esteem robbing and soul crushing.
It doesn’t build anything; abuse tears down.
§
My positive attitude invalided my
pain. As long as I insisted on viewing everything optimistically, I discounted
my painful experiences and dismissed my real feelings.
§
It conflicted with the normal
grieving process of my losses and prevented me from expressing my sadness, pain
and anger. When a positive attitude is used to offer hope, that’s helpful to
the grieving process, but not when it demands constant cheerfulness.
I finally recognized my power and
gave myself permission to see the truth. Doing that required me to face the
dysfunctional values I’d adopted to endure my abusive past.
I’m no
longer a powerless child, unable to improve my life. I’m an empowered adult who
actually is optimistic and grateful. But now, I see things
realistically. I can imagine an even better future, knowing I’m empowered to
improve the things I don’t like.
I still think of the glass as
half-full, but now I question what I can do to fill the glass instead of just
assuming that half-full is all there ever will be.
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