Optimism for Parents
Beyond the glass half-full
When you hear the word optimism, does it conjure up phrases like “glass half-full”, “good-vibes-only”, “sunny disposition” or a person that has never had a bad day? For most of us, either you consider yourself an optimist OR you are determined never to be one and are possibly irritated by the idea. That said, optimism is highly linked with mental health, so let’s break it down and learn how to cultivate it!
This week on the Raising Good Humans podcast, I’m joined by Dr. Deepika Chopra, psychologist and author of The Power of Real Optimism: A Practical, Science-Based Guide to Staying Resilient, Curious, and Open Even When Life Is Hard to help sort out what the research on true optimism actually is, and tell us how parents can help integrate strategies to support optimism for ourselves and our children.
Because definitions truly matter here, Dr. Chopra defines a true optimist as someone who is keenly and mindfully aware of the roadblocks, the setbacks, and the less-than-ideal situations in life, but sees these setbacks as temporary.
Optimism is not about happiness and it is not about achieving a struggle-free, worry-free, blissful content place. It is knowing that there will be darkness and knowing how to see through it. - Dr. Deepika Chopra
What sets optimists apart is the belief that they have the ability to overcome the difficulties in life, even if they don’t know how or when that change will occur. You not only can, but you should be truly rooted in your authentic emotion - even and especially when it is grief, loss, or anger - but at the very same time, leave room for the idea that things will change.
As our children watch how we navigate through our happy moments, through the hard spots, and through the really big struggles, they are watching how we persevere. This modeling is both an opportunity and a pressure. We can show our children the hope and optimism in working through things, in tackling challenges, and in changing our circumstances. But we can also accidentally model some of the negative thinking that many of us have lurking in our repertoire.
Dr. Chopra points out that one of the most intentional ways we can start modeling optimism is by becoming acutely aware of the language we use in our everyday lives. Most of us often use pessimistic or self-limiting language, especially the “always” and “never” phrases. “I can never get this to work.” “I always mess this up.” “Why does this never work out for me?” The language we use to narrate our struggles sends a message to our children (and to ourselves, if we are paying attention).
If you hear this type of language from your kids, don’t panic. These phrases can help teach your child that a momentary failure is simply a moment, and not a permanent, personal failure.
“You just did it yesterday, remember?”
“Everyone learns that at some point. Let’s just try to focus for a few more minutes.”
“Remember the last time you said you’d never be able to do it? And now you can. You have a history of overcoming these moments.”
“This feeling is hard, but temporary.” Or as I like to say, “Feelings come and feelings go.”
Capacity is the idea that you have a mental, emotional, and physical reserve available to meet the demands of life. In the word itself, there is a sense of optimism. Capacity implies potential. But we have to be real about our capacity. To be authentically able to take on anything, you first need to accept where you are right now. This means acknowledging low capacity. When you are running on empty (low sleep, sick, high stress), be honest with yourself. It is not the time for deep, emotionally strenuous bonding moments. It’s time for maintenance. This is something you can explain to your children. Let them know that you feel run down, that you aren’t at your best, and that it isn’t about them. You can also help tune in to their own capacity, saying things like, “You seem tired right now and it feels like we aren’t going to get this done. Let’s let your body rest and see if your battery feels more full in the morning.”
When we are feeling great, we do not expect to have that feeling forever. But for some reason, when things are not going well, remembering that feelings are temporary is much more challenging. Dr. Aliza Pressman
Humans are wired to focus on what needs to be fixed, what we are worried about, and what we need to improve. But to balance our natural focus on the negative, we must intentionally add a focus on the good. I’ve written about cynicism before, and staying hopeful in a hard world, but there are lots of ways to help notice, and hunt, for the good - including affirmations that may feel right to your kids. Dr. Chopra points out that affirmations work for kids because they truly believe in themselves. For many adults, the same cannot be said. Our brains have lots of evidence to make us doubt the affirmation we are chanting in front of the mirror, and so it can do us more harm than good.
One of my favorite aspects of optimism is the idea that there is always another day to try something. We don’t control every moment (an idea that I find comforting even though very few others agree), and we don’t need to be “right.” Instead, we can reflect on the day and try something new tomorrow. The opportunity to repair, to model self-compassion, and to start fresh is always there. To me, optimism is the practice of believing in that new chance, not pretending it’s perfect. That can convince even the greatest cynic to take the chance.
Thank you for disentangling optimism from toxic positivity. The distinction between acknowledging low capacity and pretending everything is fine felt especially grounding. I love how you normalize saying, “I’m running on empty,” and making that part of the model for kids.
What your piece stirred in me is this: optimism might not just be about believing things will get better, but about believing we can participate in that betterment. There’s a subtle shift from passive hope to active engagement. When children see us both accept reality and move toward change—even in small ways—they’re learning not just resilience but authorship. That feels powerful. Perhaps optimism is less about prediction and more about posture—how we stand in the face of uncertainty.
This hit close to home. I’m realising how often my kids are watching not what I say, but how I handle the hard stuff.
The reminder that feelings are temporary, and that capacity matters.
It feels like something I need just as much as they do.
Grateful for this perspective!.