In 2014, about a year before my son Charles died by suicide, we were sitting on the deck outside of our home in Virginia. He had just posted a rap video online. He was so proud of it, and I think with the video, he was trying to send me a sideways message that I missed.
I feel alone and scared
I turn on the light
And nothing’s ever there.
This world is desolate and cold
Go to school, Charles.
Do what you’re told and
Hope that your cycle of reality never gets old
Cuz one day everything you know in love
Will collapse and fold.
(From “Hell on Earth” by Charles Aubrey Rogers)
I asked Charles, “Why are all your raps so depressing? Can’t you write something more lighthearted?”—as if I could wash away his darkness and push him into the light.
That question shamed him for his pain, demonstrating a complete lack of understanding of the rap genre and what it meant to him. I had essentially and unintentionally communicated that the darkness in his soul was too ugly to put on display.
Missing Clues to Depression
I thought my words could inject happiness and cajole him out of all that unnecessary depression. Immediately, I knew I’d said the wrong thing and regret seized my heart. It still stings as I write this, although I have forgiven myself for it.
Up until then, my 19-year-old son had shared none of his written rap lyrics with me. I’d only heard his album, watched his video, and seen some song titles. After his death, I would read his “rap diaries” and include some in my first book, Diary of a Broken Mind.
Charles’ raps were poetry from the soul, and I now recognize these deeply personal expressions as his therapy. After his death, these songs answered so many questions about the “why?” surrounding his suicide.
Had I seen all of my son’s lyrics in 2014, I would have been alarmed by all the pain that stained every word, and my instinct would have been to insist on professional help.
Or to cheer him up.
Why Can Positivity Be Toxic?
Charles didn’t want cheering up or help, at least not the traditional kind. A tortured creative soul, he was never able to follow a path he didn’t carve himself.
I do think he wanted to talk, and he wanted me to know.
Most of all, he wanted to be heard.
I now believe that video he posted was his litmus test to see how I’d react. Sadly, I didn’t pass the test. And I was never aware of my son’s thoughts of suicide until after his shocking death.
Many times, when people confess their pain, they get pat responses about how they can “cheer up” – as if their despair is singularly a matter of having the wrong attitude. No wonder many people hesitate to share their suicidal thoughts with others.
Our first instinct, whether it’s with our children, relatives, friends, or co-workers is to try to push our loved one out of their distress and into the light with rah-rah expressions and solutions. This is called toxic positivity.
What is Toxic Positivity?
Toxic positivity is the belief that people should maintain a positive mindset no matter how dire or difficult a situation. Happiness – or at least hope – is the only acceptable emotion. It’s as though we’re asking people to mask their struggles so the people around them don’t have to feel uncomfortable.
We might say things like…
- “It will get better.”
- “Look for the silver lining.”
- “You have so much to live for!”
- “Focus on the positive.”
- “Don’t cry. Just be strong.”
- “Be grateful for all you have.”
- “Think happy thoughts!”
- “If you want to be happy, try cutting out sugar. It did wonders for me!”
- “You’d be less depressed if you exercised more. You should try it.”
- “You should __________.” (Any phrase that starts this way is usually the wrong thing to say)
These well-intentioned phrases often come from a place of fear and discomfort. But instead of lifting someone up, they shut the conversation down, invalidating the feelings that person has so bravely shared.
Pain Doesn’t Disappear When Ignored
Instead of rushing to “fix” someone, we must meet them where they are—whether that’s in sadness, despair, or thoughts of dying by suicide. Listening without judgment and sitting with someone in their pain is one of the greatest gifts we can give.
Stacey Freedenthal refers to this as “brave listening” in her book Loving Someone with Suicidal Thoughts:
Brave listening is resisting the temptation to change the subject, give advice, lecture, offer reassurance, or convince the person to think or feel differently. It’s focusing on the person’s needs, not on your own wish to feel less helpless, worried, and stressed as you listen.
Along the same lines, a young woman who has struggled with suicidal thoughts shared this with me:
“I just truly wish that someone could just sit with me in those moments, when I utter those exhausting words, ‘I’m struggling, I want to die.’ Not talk me out of it, not give platitudes, not give advice, not tell me how good life can be… just sit with me, in that space. Just hold on to me while I work through it.”
Her words are a powerful reminder. People don’t need us to fill the silence with solutions or optimism.
They need our presence. They need time to process. They need to feel heard.
The Power of Listening
You might worry that listening to someone in pain will drag you down, or that you won’t know what to say. Never underestimate the power of sitting with someone in their pain or tragedy without trying to sugarcoat or fix.
I once led a suicide prevention training at North Carolina State University. Afterward, a faculty member said, “Thanks to your training, I was able to ask a student about suicide today. While I was nervous, it felt strangely empowering.”
Empathy and connection are empowering—for both the giver and the receiver. When you offer someone the space to share their darkest thoughts, without judgment, interruption, or rah-rah phrases, you create room for hope, healing, growth, resilience, and life.
Listen More, Lecture Less
It might feel counterintuitive to listen without offering solutions or encouragement, but adopting this approach can deepen your relationships. It allows the person to be heard and discover their own solutions. And it builds trust, helping your loved ones feel safe turning to you for support.
I wish I had offered my son Charles the gift of silence that day when I commented on his rap video, instead of defaulting to my “mom-fixer” mode. I could have asked him—genuinely and with curiosity—about the feelings that inspired his song. Then, I could have listened, really listened, giving him space to process and respond in his own time.
It was a missed opportunity to strengthen our bond, to let him feel seen and heard. More importantly, it might have opened the door for him to confide in me later.
I no longer blame myself for doing what so many parents instinctively do. By sharing my story, I hope to highlight the power of simply being present with someone in their pain—without trying to fix it or make the person happy or get the person to think positively.
—————-
If you are talking to your kids, this 44 second video offers an example of what to resist saying: Listen to Your Kids: Ditch the Toxic Positivity!
© 2025 AnneMoss Rogers. All Rights Reserved. Written for Speaking of Suicide.
What is stated above is highly credible. However, the listener may need someone or even others, to listen to them, because they can feel as though a significant weight of pain, is transferring to them. It can also be important to discuss possible reasons, for the vulnerable person’s emotional pain and how they previously coped with different types of it, when it wasn’t overwhelming. In other words, explore the person’s own perspective on what does and doesn’t help and why. Before ending conversations, it can be important to lift the mood, by asking what still gives them joy and hope if anything. For example, there are no instant ‘cures’ for devastating bereavements, because those who have left us cannot come back. Deep pain about those may need to be shared and not avoided. However, before ending discussions about intense pain, it could help if they read something or play music which they have brought along, to prove what helps lift their mood or even enter a state of tranquillity. It could be sharing an early memory, about one of the happiest times with that person. I heard someone say, the person who has died, “cannot return but I see them in every flower they loved and hear them in every child’s laughter”. Part of coping and surviving, is about discovering how and when to focus on different feelings, ranging from pain to joy and having ways to make sense of it.
AnneMoss,
This is a beautiful testimony to you and your amazing son. Shalom, Michael Robin
Thank you Michael. I appreciate your taking the time to comment
AnneMoss – thank you for this message. It’s so many people’s go-to response to try and fix a situation by being positive, and what an important reminder that listening well and not offering solutions, might be what is most needed. (And love the picture of Charles you shared.)
It’s no longer my go-to. And I still find it hard to resist defaulting to it. I have learned to be quiet and ask questions instead. So I do think it’s our natural inclination. But I have learned it’s not the most effective.
I don’t think it’s helpful to call positivity toxic. Although I understand the writer’s point, actually, when all the listening and understanding has been done, the only answer for anybody is to adopt a more positive attitude – whether people want to hear that or not is another matter.
Anonymous,
I’m intrigued by your take on positivity. With respect, I disagree that “the only answer for anybody is to adopt a more positive attitude.” For me, when I was severely depressed and suicidal in my 20s, there were other answers, such as connection, authenticity, psychotherapy, and medication. Whenever someone with good intentions intoned me to be positive, that created disconnection and inauthenticity, which worsened my feelings of despair.
I urge you to consider the ways that positivity can indeed be toxic. If someone were drowning in a swimming pool, would you shout at them to think positively, or would you throw them a lifeline and hold onto it for dear life? The analogy isn’t 100% applicable, because you also wouldn’t merely listen to someone drowning, but the point is that you’d reach out to the person, connect with them, and not tell them to change their attitude.
I think sometimes people mix up optimism with toxic positivity. A person who is in a place of despair needs to be heard first. There is a kind of release and relief when one talks about their pain and it allows that person to find more optimism. That doesn’t happen when someone dismisses your pain.
It was my natural inclination to say “look at the silver lining.” I found out the hard way and through a lot of experience that it helps to allow someone to feel heard first before offering solutions they have heard or aren’t looking for.
I still want to say, “Oh you are not ugly!” when someone says they are. Instead I say, “What makes you think you are ugly?” I get more information then. I might say at some point, “for the record, I don’t find you ugly at all but I do want to understand why you feel that way.” That’s another way to go about it. Thanks for your point of view.
It is very important that we move away from telling or urging people to adopt a more positive attitude. And it does matter and “whether people want to hear that or not is another matter,” is itself a contentious view. It is not “another matter,” it is “the only matter” that we need to be aware of. When people are in pain, it is about them and not ourselves. So even if we feel that something should be said, we need to put this aside and be with the person who is sitting there before us., allowing them to get out the thoughts that are in their mind and the feelings that can often be isolating for the person. Telling a person to be positive or looking for a silver lining simply acts as a deterrent and will close the person down. And it can also lead to a person to feel foolish and ashamed for harboring these thoughts and emotions.
Heath- I know you have experience from both sides of this as a survivor of suicide loss and one who has experienced the thoughts. So your perspective is important.
This is a great point. –> “So even if we feel that something should be said, we need to put this aside and be with the person who is sitting there before us., allowing them to get out the thoughts that are in their mind and the feelings that can often be isolating for the person.” Then you mention focusing on THEM which Dr. Freedenthal often emphasizes. Keep the focus on them and don’t make it about you. She mentions this in our documentary, “After your child’s suicide attempt.”
It might be by the end of the conversation when we have listened and empathized that we might ask open-ended questions like “When you have felt this way before, what helped you get through it?” In other words, we still focus on them.
We are curious and not accusing. We are concerned but not judging. And we might, through our open-ended questions, allow them to think of other ways that work for them, other people, or reasons to live.
So instead of saying, “What about your sister? How would this make her feel?” which is a shaming approach. You might say, “You mentioned your sister a minute ago. Tell me more about her.” So you are taking what they said and asking for more detail with the side effect of reminding that person of who is important in their life.
But it’s important to allow them to come to that conclusion. ASIST training does a good job of helping people with a kind of motivational interviewing technique in these situations.
It’s our natural inclination to want to propose easy fixes. It just helps the other person process their feelings when we stay silent and allow that person to feel heard. And it can take the power away from dark thoughts once they are uttered and not isolated in one’s head and allowed to fester and take up more thinking room.
Thank you! I often think positive thoughts will do the tick yet I know they don’t. We all want to heard!! Sharing with my group-Embracing Faith and Mental illness.
Thank you, Maree. I appreciate that.