Making Meaning in Hard Seasons (Without Toxic Positivity)

There are seasons of life that don’t lend themselves to easy reframes.

Loss, relational rupture, illness, divorce, family estrangement, chronic stress, unrealized dreams—these experiences don’t often come with a neat lesson attached. And yet, when we’re in the middle of them, we often get a lot of:

“Everything happens for a reason.”

“There’s a lesson in this.”
“Try to focus on the positives.”

These statements are usually well-intentioned attempts to soothe and to make pain more bearable. But when you’re actually living inside a hard season, they can land flat—or worse, leave you feeling like you’re doing your suffering wrong.



This post isn’t about forcing optimism. It’s about how meaning is made honestly—through grief, reflection, and discernment—rather than bypassed. 

When Advice Rushes In Before Grief Has Landed 

When something painful happens, many people feel an unspoken pressure to “get perspective” quickly. To find the silver lining. To prove resilience.

But meaning-making doesn’t work that way.

Sometimes things don’t happen for a reason. Sometimes they just happen—and they hurt because they collide with what we value, what we hoped for, or what we needed.

What does help is having a process that allows you to fully feel what’s painful, unfair, or disorienting—without rushing yourself toward acceptance or growth. This is a process that creates space: to reflect, to metabolize, and eventually, to decide what (if anything) you want to take forward from the experience.

When people are pushed toward positivity too soon, it can create a secondary layer of pain:

Why am I still so upset? Why can’t I just move on?



“Just moving on” isn’t resilience. That’s suppression. 

Toxic Positivity vs. Resilient Meaning-Making 

There’s an important difference between toxic positivity and a resilient mindset.

Toxic positivity:

• Skips over grief
• Treats pain as a mindset problem
• Implies that feeling bad is a personal failure
• Often leads to shame when optimism doesn’t “work”

Resilient meaning-making, on the other hand:

• Makes room for grief and anger
• Doesn’t require you to feel better before moving forward
• Is grounded in values rather than outcomes
• Allows insight to emerge alongside pain, not instead of it

The goal isn’t to feel better as quickly as possible. But over time, honest processing is often how people begin to feel steadier, more integrated, and more like themselves again. 

Why the Pain Often Points to What You Value 

One of the most powerful reframes is this:

The depth of your pain often reflects the depth of what you value.

People don’t grieve randomly.

• Family conflict hurts deeply when you value closeness and belonging.
• Divorce can devastate someone who values partnership and shared life.
• Career loss often wounds a sense of purpose or contribution.
• Estrangement can feel unbearable when you value continuity or care.

Sometimes we’re also grieving things we never had:

• An emotionally safe parent
• A functional family system
• A child we weren’t able to have
• A sense of ease or security others seem to take for granted

That grief is real. And naming it matters. It helps shift the story from “What’s wrong with me?” to “Of course this hurts—this matters to me.” 

Making Room for What Hurts (Including What Can’t Be Fixed) 

Before meaning can be made, grief needs room.

That often means naming:

• What you lost
• What feels unfair
• What you miss
• What will not be possible
• What is off the table, at least for now

This step is deeply validating—and often avoided.

There’s something stabilizing about acknowledging what cannot be changed. It prevents you from quietly fighting reality or expending energy trying to fix what isn’t fixable.

At the same time, this clarity can also illuminate places where something isn’t truly impossible—just deeply uncomfortable, risky, or requiring a different path than the one you imagined. This is often where discernment enters: distinguishing between a genuine “no” and a painful but possible “this would require me creating a third path.” 

An Example: Navigating the Holidays After Loss 

Consider someone who has lost a loved one.

As the holidays approach, they may feel tempted to skip everything—to opt out entirely because it all feels too painful.

Avoidance makes sense. The grief can feel unbearable.

But meaning-making might involve slowing down and asking:

• What will be missing this year?
• What traditions were tied to this person?
• What still matters to me about this season?
• What could stay the same?
• What needs to change?
• Is there a way to acknowledge the loss rather than pretend it isn’t there?

For some, that might mean creating a new ritual. For others, simplifying plans. For others still, choosing to show up in a different way.

The point isn’t to manufacture joy. It’s to engage with intention rather than disappearing from your own life. 

Meaning Isn’t Always Found — Sometimes It’s Chosen 

There’s a phrase I’ve heard that resonates deeply: “Don’t waste adversity.”

That doesn’t mean adversity is good. It doesn’t mean we should be grateful for harm. And it doesn’t mean growth is guaranteed. It means refusing to let suffering be the only thing the chapter contains.

Sometimes meaning isn’t something you discover. It’s something you decide to cultivate—by staying engaged, by reflecting honestly, by choosing how you respond to the ground shifting. 

On “Lost Years” and Honest Growth  

Many people carry a quiet grief about lost time—years spent in relationships, roles, or patterns that slowly erased them.

I sometimes talk about a stretch of my own life as “lost years.” Not because nothing happened, but because I wasn’t myself. I felt diminished, disconnected, and trapped in ways I didn’t want to fully face. It was painful, embarrassing, and disorienting.

What mattered wasn’t that those years happened for a reason. What mattered was how I eventually responded to them. I had to look unflinchingly at my own patterns. I had to grieve choices I wished I’d made differently. I had to tolerate a lot of discomfort and self-honesty.

That process—not the suffering itself—is what shaped who I am now.



I’m careful sharing this because growth stories can accidentally sound like a performance standard. That’s not the point. Growth isn’t linear, visible, or impressive most of the time. It’s often quiet, internal, and earned through hard work and sustained reflection. 

Meaning-Making as a Practice (Not a Personality Trait) 

Meaning-making isn’t about positive thinking or grit. It’s a practice.

It often involves:

• Naming your values
• Fully acknowledging pain with both gentleness and firmness
• Asking how you want to engage from here
• Choosing intention over autopilot

This isn’t a checklist or a “fix.” It’s how we can choose to orient ourselves. You don’t need to rush this. And you don’t need to do it alone.

Final Thoughts

Resilience isn’t cheerfulness. Meaning isn’t denial. And growth doesn’t erase grief.

Sometimes the most resilient thing you can do is stay present, honest, and engaged—even while things are still hard. 

Want support with follow-through or getting unstuck? 

If you’re navigating a difficult season and want support that honors both your pain and your capacity to move forward, therapy and coaching can be a place to do that work with depth and care. Explore my free resources or connect and explore therapy and coaching options. You don’t have to rush the process—and you don’t have to carry it alone.