Be positive, she says

She stares at the mirror,

smiling,

her head held high,

and sees only beauty in her reflection.

She appreciates it,

then goes on her way.

Be positive, she says,

as her boss's sharp words

drain the patience from her.

She takes it all in,

calms her breathing,

puts on an award-winning smile,

apologizes,

and returns to work.

Be positive, she says,

as her fellow employees isolate her,

their whispers carrying easily

through the thin walls of her cubicle.

She brushes it aside,

pretends not to notice.

Be positive, she says,

as she learns difficult truths.

She enters her car;

it breaks down in the middle of the road.

She's late for an important meeting.

She's exhausted,

yet she smiles.

It isn't as bright as the last one,

nor as effortless as the first.

She repeats her usual mantra...

be positive...

but this time

she strains to believe it.

The car is towed.

She walks home.

Be positive.

She steps through her front door,

trying to preserve what little joy remains.

She opens the refrigerator.

Nothing.

Too tired to cry,

too weary to think,

she simply goes to bed.

Be positive.

She wakes up

and repeats the cycle.

Then, one evening,

she meets with friends.

She laughs.

She makes memories.

She tries her best to participate,

to be present,

to feel what everyone else seems to feel so naturally.

Be positive,

she keeps chanting.

Weeks turn into months.

She survives every disappointment,

every humiliation,

every lonely dinner,

every restless night,

with the same familiar words.

Be positive.

Until one day,

those around her are left asking questions

they never thought to ask before.

She was smiling, wasn't she?

She laughed with us, didn't she?

She said she was fine.

Positivity was never meant

to be armour worn until it cuts into the skin.

It was never meant

to silence grief,

to shame exhaustion,

to disguise suffering as gratitude.

Positivity does not mean

walking through life untouched by pain.

It means allowing yourself to acknowledge the pain,

to speak of it,

to ask for help when the burden grows too heavy,

and to understand that hope is not the denial of darkness.

Sometimes,

the bravest words are not

I can handle it.

Sometimes,

they are,

I am hurting.

And perhaps true positivity begins there......

not in pretending the storm does not exist,

but in believing

that no one should have to weather it alone.