Why Positive Thinking Wasn’t Enough and the Real Work Behind Healing
Updated: 6 days ago
Written by Lakhvir Kaur, Author, Life Coach & Speaker
Lakhvir Kaur is an author, life coach, and speaker for Christian's Against Poverty. She is the author of Hope to Fly and Depth of Willpower, and creator of the Hope to Fly course, which helps people discover themselves and live with purpose.
I prayed every day. I read the books. I kept a smile on my face and told myself to stay positive, and inside I still felt completely empty. It took me years to understand that the emptiness wasn’t proof I was failing. It was the part of me that had never been allowed to speak.
Why do we feel empty?
I grew up going to the gurdwara. I bowed my head, made my offerings, and tried to be a good person. When I asked my mother why we went, she gave me the answer she had been given, “We go so that we can become good people.” She loved me, and she shared what she knew. But the deeper questions in my heart never got an answer, at home or at school.
So I searched everywhere. If someone told me to recite a particular prayer, I recited it. If someone told me to get up at three in the morning to pray, I got up at three in the morning. I went to fortune tellers. I had my palm read. The more I searched, the more confused I became. It felt like walking around a great circle, covering the same ground again and again and never moving forward.
I want to say this clearly, I was not rejecting God. I was looking for Him. I just didn’t know where to find Him.
Then life fell apart. By the age of 24, I had lost both of my parents. Before I had learned to grieve, my marriage broke down, and I was separated from my son. I was raising my young daughter on my own, the mortgage was getting harder to pay, and every burden seemed to arrive at once. I fell into a deep depression.
Smiling while falling apart
In my community, mental health was something you kept hidden. You didn’t talk about it because you would be misunderstood or judged. I know now that I was far from the only one. A University of Manchester study of South Asians in the UK found that these communities use mental health services less than any other ethnic group in the country, and it names stigma as a major reason.
So on the outside, I looked strong. I smiled. I laughed. I took my daughter out to play and tried to protect her from seeing how much I was hurting. Inside, I was like wood being eaten away from within. From the outside, it looks solid. Inside, it is quietly crumbling.
This is where positive thinking stops working. It asks you to paint over the wood, and it never asks what is eating it.
Where positive thinking fails
I am not against hope. Hope is the reason I am still here. But there is a difference between hope and pretending, and for a long time, I confused the two.
Researchers at the University of Waterloo tested this. In a study on positive self-statements, people with low self-esteem who repeated the phrase “I’m a lovable person” ended up feeling worse, not better. The researchers suggested that when a statement feels too far from how you actually feel, your mind argues back, and the argument wins.
That was my experience exactly. Every time I told myself, “Everything is fine,” a louder voice inside me said, “No, it isn’t.” Another writer here at Brainz puts it well in why forcing optimism works against emotional healing. The problem was never that I wasn’t positive enough. I was carrying things I had never looked at honestly.
The night I stopped pretending
One night, at around two in the morning, I woke up and went into the bathroom. I looked in the mirror and could not recognise the woman looking back at me. In that moment of distress, I picked up a pair of scissors and cut off my long hair, first one side and then the other, until it rested on my shoulders. Then I cried until I had no strength left.
The next morning, I wiped my face, put my smile back on, and carried on as if nothing had happened.
Not long after, a woman asked if she could pray for me. I told her the truth, “I don’t even believe there is a God.” She asked if she could pray anyway. I said, “Go ahead. I’ve already tried every path I know. Nothing has changed.”
After she left, I fell to my knees and said the most honest prayer of my life, “If You are really there, show me the way.”
That prayer had no polish and no performance in it. It was the first time I had been completely honest with God, and it was where my healing began.
Healing starts with honesty
For years, I believed the answer was to pray more, read more, and try harder. That kind of faith is exhausting because it turns God into someone you have to impress.
What I learned is this, God wasn’t distant because of what I wasn’t doing. I felt disconnected because of what I was carrying, grief I had never let myself feel, guilt, shame, and the pressure to look fine.
So I stopped saying the words I thought I should say. Instead of “I should feel grateful” or “I should be stronger,” I started praying things like:
“God, I feel empty and I don’t know why.”
“I’m struggling to connect with You.”
“Help me find You in this season.”
Honesty opens the door. Performance keeps it shut.
The real work, day to day
Healing did not arrive in one big moment. It came through very small steps, repeated. Ten minutes of prayer. One page in a journal. One walk outside. That was how my turnaround began.
If you feel empty despite doing everything right, start by changing the question. Stop asking, “What is wrong with me?” and start asking, “What is my soul trying to tell me?” The first question looks for a fault to fix. The second one listens.
Then be honest with God. Say exactly how you feel, in your own words, not the words you think you are supposed to use. He already knows. Saying it out loud is for you.
Next, name what you are carrying. Ask quietly, “What am I holding that is blocking my connection?” It might be unforgiveness towards someone else or towards yourself, guilt, or an old disappointment with God. Listen to whatever comes up without judging it.
Finally, make room for silence. Five minutes of quiet can do more than an hour of words. This piece on cultivating silence as a spiritual practice explains why.
None of this is dramatic. That is the point. The real work is small, honest, and daily.
You are not alone
I did not heal on my own. A social worker introduced me to the woman who prayed for me. A church family prayed for me. Christians Against Poverty stood beside me when things felt impossible. People carried me when I could not carry myself.
If you are in a dark place right now, please tell someone. Talk to your general practitioner (GP), a trusted friend, or your church. In the United Kingdom, you can call Samaritans free, at any time, on 116 123. Faith and support are not rivals. God often sends help through people.
Where to go from here
I have written the whole story, including the parts that don’t fit into an article, in my book, available now as Depth of Willpower on Amazon.
If you would like to talk about your own season, you can make a coaching enquiry through my Hope to Fly website. Or, if you just want a first step, send the word 'peace' to me on Instagram at @lakhvir_coach, and I will reply to you personally.
You are not broken. You are waking up.
Read more from Lakhvir Kaur
Lakhvir Kaur, Author, Life Coach & Speaker
Lakhvir Kaur is an author, life coach, and speaker for Christians Against Poverty. She is the author of Hope to Fly and Depth of Willpower. Her Hope to Fly course helps people discover who they are, strengthen their confidence, and live with purpose. Through her writing and coaching, Lakhvir inspires others to embrace hope and create meaningful change.
