For much of my life, I’ve embraced pessimism like a trusty blanket, convincing myself that optimism was merely a trait of the naive. I figured being constantly on guard against potential disasters was the best way to avoid being blindsided. Where an optimistic soul might see a cloudy sky as a sign of beneficial rain, I would envision impending chaos: a leaky roof costing a fortune and a flooded backyard due to a mainline break. That’s just how I rolled—always expecting the worst.
But this year marked a shift.
My journey towards a more positive outlook began when a group of inspiring women writers invited me to set some writing goals at the start of January. Although hesitant, I agreed, knowing that articulating my dreams felt risky; after all, what if the universe decided to snatch them away?
During our gathering, we discussed themes to guide our yearly objectives, encouraging us to step outside our comfort zones. The first thought that crossed my mind was “Determined Optimism,” a concept that felt both daunting and oddly necessary. However, the term “determined” seemed to overshadow the lightness of “optimism,” making it sound overly serious—too forced. Just like that, my ingrained pessimism squashed my attempts at positivity.
For weeks, I floundered without a theme, spiraling into panic about my productivity and future potential. But amidst this turmoil, a tiny seed of optimism had taken root. I started to realize just how much my negative mindset affected my 11-year-old son, Max.
When he’d express disappointment over a drawing that didn’t meet his expectations, he’d lament, “It’s terrible!” even though I saw beauty in his creation. If we were running late for a movie or his math test didn’t yield the grade he hoped for, he’d spiral into worst-case scenarios: missing the movie entirely or failing math for the year. Hearing my own dark thoughts echoed by him was gut-wrenching.
One afternoon, as we drove home from school, Max sighed, “I don’t think I did well on my quiz today.” I felt my heart sink, knowing all too well where that kind of thinking could lead. But then, he surprised me. “But you know what?” he continued, his tone shifting. “I’ll do better on the next one.”
I glanced at him through the rearview mirror, feeling a surge of hope. “That’s true,” I replied, encouraged by his newfound perspective.
He smiled, revealing his resolution to focus on the positive this year. “I decided to think more about good things,” he said. “During art class, I chipped my camera lens when I fell off the play set, but my teacher didn’t get upset. She said we could make something creative out of it, and that made me feel better.”
In that moment, I was taken aback by how he viewed the situation. While I was worrying about potential costs and injuries, Max was thrilled to discover new possibilities. It dawned on me that my tendency to dwell on negatives prevented me from appreciating the silver linings in life.
Max’s optimistic outlook inspired me, and I realized that dreaming is a far healthier approach than worrying. This year, I’m embracing optimism wholeheartedly. I’ll be sitting in a cozy corner, diligently working on my writing goals, feeling empowered by this shift in mindset. After all, I can do this. I can feel it in my bones.
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Summary
In this heartfelt reflection, Claire Thompson shares her journey from pessimism to optimism, sparked by her son Max’s uplifting perspective on life. Through anecdotes of their experiences, she recognizes the impact of her negative outlook on her child’s mindset and learns to embrace a more hopeful attitude, ultimately fostering a nurturing environment for creativity and dreams.