In the span of a few months, I lost my aunt to cancer. Then I watched my dog, my companion, my comfort, die from the same disease. We discovered our home was full of toxic mold that had been making me sick for who knows how long, and we were told we had to leave. And then LA caught fire, and I couldn’t breathe. Literally. The smoke was choking my asthma, and I was already gasping from everything else.

And in the middle of all that, someone told me to “stay positive.”

I wanted to scream.

When the floor drops out

I’d always believed life was a protective space. That if I worked hard, stayed kind, kept faith, things would ultimately work out. I didn’t expect everything to be perfect, but I trusted there was a floor beneath me.

Then the rug got pulled out.

I got sad. Really sad. Confused. I didn’t know what to believe anymore. The rules I’d lived by, stay positive, trust the process, keep moving forward, felt like they’d been written for a different life. An easier one.

The difference between toxic positivity and faith

But here’s what I learned: There’s a difference between toxic positivity and faith.

Toxic positivity says, “Just stay positive!” when you’re standing in the wreckage. It’s dismissive. It’s a band-aid on a wound that needs stitches.

Faith is different. Faith is saying, “I don’t know how this gets better, but I’m choosing to believe it will,” even when you have zero evidence. Even when it feels like you’re lying to yourself.

That’s what I held onto. Not because I felt it. Not because I had proof. But because it was the only way I could keep going.

What faith actually looked like

Here’s what that actually looked like:

Some days, faith was just getting out of bed. Taking my supplements. Packing another box. Answering one more email about the move.

Some days, it was letting myself cry without trying to “fix” my mood or spiritually bypass my way out of grief.

Some days, it was setting boundaries with people who wanted to drain my energy with their own drama when I had nothing left to give. (And yes, even in crisis, there are people who will make it about them. You’re allowed to protect yourself.)

Some days, it was praying prayers that felt hollow, talking to God when I wasn’t sure if he would answer, just because the act of reaching out kept me tethered to something beyond the pain. And some days, I really believed. Really felt it. And knew I was not alone in the journey and was still protected in the chaos.

I didn’t “think positive.” I survived. And faith wasn’t a feeling, it was a decision I made every single day, sometimes every single hour.

If you’re in it right now

So if you’re in it right now, if life has thrown everything and the kitchen sink at you, here’s what I want you to know:

You don’t have to be positive. You don’t have to smile through it or find the lesson or be grateful for the growth. You’re allowed to be sad, angry, confused, exhausted.

But if you can find even the tiniest thread of belief that this won’t last forever, that somehow, some way, you’ll get through, hold onto that. Not because it feels good. Because it’s true.

Things did get better for me. Slowly. Not all at once. Not in the timeline I wanted. But they did.

And I’m still here. So are you.

That counts for something.