Beyond Positivity: Why Hope is the Secret Weapon of Therapy

Over the past few weeks, we’ve found ourselves struggling with the heaviness of current events both domestically and abroad that can sometimes feel overwhelming. These big complex problems can paralyze us, but we’ve tried to focus on finding and supporting paths to a better future. And to be honest—that helps. Perhaps this is why we’ve found ourselves really reflecting on the centrality of hope in the healing process of therapy.

Hope helps people to face challenges, make healthier choices, and even minimize anxiety pathways in the brain. Despite being such an essential function in successful therapy, hope isn’t always easy to find because in the grips of grief, depression, anxiety, or trauma we all struggle to imagine a better future. In that darkness, a therapist can step in to help cultivate hope where none seems possible.

You would think that given our role as hope conduits, we might be well versed at talking about it, yet it feels impossible to write about hope in an earnest way without veering into the trite and saccharine. Why is the concept so laden down with cloying associations that make it feel insincere?

The treacly flavor of the word comes from the ways we often lump it in with toxic positivity and optimism—the belief that things will work out in the end without any effort on our part. There is a powerlessness inherent to these beliefs. Toxic, or tone deaf positivity can assert that things will always work out, but many people have lived experiences that tell them otherwise.

When someone has experienced deep grief, fertility challenges, depression, anxiety, or trauma, they know that not every wish is granted. While positivity and optimism have nothing to offer during suffering, that’s the very place where hope excels.

Hope is born of struggle and challenging times. You need hope on your worst days and not your best. Hope is more than simply wishing things were different or pretending things are better than they are. Instead, it acknowledges and is grounded in the reality of the moment to look toward the future.

American psychologist Charles Snyder defines hope as having three necessary components: goals, agency, and pathways. It’s these elements that distinguish hope as a gritty, tenacious choice rather than a quick sentiment of positivity. Unlike positivity or optimism which are simply attitudes, hope is a verb. Hope is the act of believing that, despite everything, tomorrow can be better than today, and that we can find the path to a better future.

Here is where therapy comes in. We meet many of our clients at the darkest times in their lives—struggling with depression, grieving the loss of a pregnancy or child, navigating serious diagnoses, processing trauma, and much more. While the act of seeking therapy is inherently hopeful—a choice to pursue a better quality of life, in these types of situations, hope can be hard to find because our present feels so permanently dark.

When someone experiences the lowest point in their life, they might struggle to envision a path forward. There’s a famous saying, “if you can’t see it, you can’t be it,” (variations by Oprah Winfrey, Marian Wright Edelman, Billie Jean King, Arnold Schwarzenegger, etc).

This is the place where a therapist can step in because their experience and distance give them insight into what the future could look like. Therapists are professional cultivators of hope. They can nourish the tiniest sparks of it against the dark, and they can carry hope for someone who cannot hold it themselves. That’s the magic of the therapeutic relationship—someone can be your hope proxy while you are still stuck in or slowly walking out of the dark.

As therapists focused on the perinatal and parenting journey, We have the benefit of having seen into the future through the clients who have come before you. Sometimes we can help you envision what that better future could look like and other times we may not know yet what the path will look like. But we have the benefit of knowing that no matter how difficult the present is, there can be something good for you in what lies ahead, even if it feels truly impossible to imagine.