Joy as Resistance: Choosing Light in Dark Seasons
We've been taught that joy is inappropriate timing.
That it's somehow disrespectful to feel lightness when the world (or our own lives) feel heavy. That the responsible thing to do is to wade through the darkness with our heads down, grinding through until we've "earned" the right to smile again.
But what if that's backwards?
Joy Isn't Denial
Here's what joy as resistance isn't: it's not pretending everything is fine. It's not slapping a positive mindset sticker over genuine pain. It's not toxic positivity telling you to "just be grateful" when you're struggling to breathe under the weight of real problems.
Joy as resistance is something entirely different.
It's the deliberate choice to not let the hard things take everything from you. It's protecting small pockets of aliveness even when circumstances are trying to flatten you. It's saying, "This situation gets my attention and my effort, but it doesn't get my entire humanity."
What Resistance Actually Looks Like
In my conversation with Rachel Beauregard on the Little Birdie podcast, she said something that rewired my brain: "Joy will not exist if you are trying to circumvent suffering."
Joy doesn't show up after you've solved all your problems. It shows up in the middle of them, if you make space for it.
Rachel's life as a touring vocalist, parent, and creative navigating career transitions isn't free from challenge. But she's learned that waiting for the "right time" to experience joy is just another way of letting the hard stuff win.
So what does this look like practically?
It's taking five minutes to play with your dog when your inbox is exploding
It's putting on a song that makes you feel alive, even when you're exhausted
It's laughing with a friend when you're in the middle of a hard season
It's noticing a beautiful sunset on a terrible day and letting yourself feel it
These aren't distractions from the work. They're what keep you human enough to do the work.
The Radical Part
The reason this is resistance (not escapism) is because systems of oppression, personal trauma, and overwhelming circumstances all benefit from your depletion. They want you too tired to imagine anything better. Too ground down to protect your sense of wonder. Too depleted to remember what being alive actually feels like.
Joy disrupts that.
When you choose joy in the middle of difficulty, you're reclaiming a part of yourself that the hard stuff was trying to take. You're saying that you're more than your problems, more than your pain, more than the circumstances trying to define you.
You're saying: I'm still here. I'm still alive. And I refuse to wait for permission to feel it.
Permission Granted
If you've been waiting for things to get better before you let yourself experience joy, consider this your permission slip.
Not to bypass the real work of processing, healing, or changing what needs to change. But to stop treating joy like something you're not allowed to touch until you've earned it through suffering.
You don't earn joy. You choose it. Even, especially, when it feels rebellious to do so.
That's not irresponsible. That's survival.
