Why Our Brains Choose Negativity and How to Choose Differently
Learning to question the stories we tell ourselves and grow in the messiness of being human.
The Weight of Negativity Bias
Have you ever noticed how much louder the negative chatter in your brain can be than the positive? There’s actually a name for this: negativity bias.
The negativity bias is our brain’s natural tendency to focus more on negative events, emotions, and stories than positive ones. From an evolutionary perspective, this bias helped keep us alive by being hyper-aware of threats. But in our modern lives, it often works against us.
It’s easier to lean into negativity than positivity because of how our brains are wired for survival. From an evolutionary perspective, our ancestors had to pay close attention to threats, like predators, poisonous plants, or dangerous situations. Missing a positive opportunity (like not noticing ripe fruit) wasn’t as life-threatening as missing a potential danger (like ignoring the sound of rustling in the bushes that could be a tiger).
Over time, this hardwiring created a neural pathway that:
• Remembers negative experiences more vividly than positive ones. (Think about how one harsh comment can stick with you for years, while a dozen compliments fade quickly.)
• Scans for danger automatically, meaning we notice what’s wrong before what’s right.
• Amplifies negative emotions, because they were once signals for survival.
In today’s world, we’re usually not running from predators, but our nervous systems haven’t updated the software. Instead of saber-toothed tigers, the “threats” our brain locks onto might be criticism, competition, financial worries, body image, or fear of failure.
Positivity, on the other hand, requires intention and practice. It takes more effort to savor the good, notice what’s working, or reframe a situation with compassion. That’s why practices like gratitude journaling, mindfulness, and self-compassion are so powerful, they help retrain the brain to balance the scales.
I’ve recently caught myself doing this more often than I’d like. When I don’t have the full story, I start filling in the blanks, and rarely with uplifting affirmations. Instead, my mind seems to grab the most critical, scarcity-driven narratives. Anyone else resonate with this?
Most recently, this has surfaced around my work. When I see similarities in offerings, business taglines, or retreat ideas, my mind jumps straight to inadequacy. That voice whispers:
“You’re not unique enough. You’re invisible. There’s not enough to go around.” And of course, this only fuels feelings of scarcity and unworthiness.
So what am I doing to help ease this suffering?
I’m working on limiting my attachment to my thoughts. As Byron Katie says:
“Don’t believe everything you think.”
Who Is Byron Katie?
Byron Katie is a teacher and author best known for her method of self-inquiry called The Work. After experiencing years of deep depression, she discovered a simple yet profound way of questioning her stressful thoughts. From there, she developed a process that has now touched millions of people worldwide. Her approach isn’t about forcing positive thinking but about gently dismantling the stories our minds create and finding peace with what is real and true.
Vicarious Trauma and Renewal
I just returned from a 2-day Nurse Renewal Retreat, a quarterly offering the state of Washington (funded by hospitals, which still amazes me). At these retreats, I teach on mindfulness, self-compassion, communication, and vicarious trauma. This work feels deeply aligned because I, too, have lived and moved through the vicarious traumas experienced with patient facing nursing. The weight of bearing witness to suffering, loss, and crisis leaves its imprint, and I know firsthand how important it is to have practices to support our nervous systems.
At this retreat, I also taught about Byron Katie’s Four Questions. Her process of self-inquiry is one of the simplest and most profound tools I’ve found to shift negative thought loops and soften the stories we create in our minds. Here are her four questions:
1. Is it true?
2. Can you absolutely know that it’s true?
3. How do you react, what happens, when you believe that thought?
4. Who would you be without the thought?
When I pause long enough to ask these questions, the grip of my negative story begins to loosen.
The Power of Self-Compassion
Alongside Katie’s work, I’ve been deeply influenced by the research of Dr. Kristin Neff, one of the leading voices on self-compassion. She speaks about two forms: fierce self-compassion and tender self-compassion. Fierce self-compassion is about protecting, advocating, and saying “no” when we need to.Tender self-compassion is about soothing, nurturing, and allowing ourselves to be held with kindness.
As I move through my perimenopause years, I notice myself leaning more into the tender side of compassion, softening judgment around my emotions, releasing shame about the changes in my body and moods, and allowing myself to rest instead of push. I call this time in my life, My Emotional Era. Yet, there’s also fierceness here: advocating for my needs, giving voice to my experience, and hopefully empowering other women to rise into their own power during this profound and transitional phase of life.
Walking the Walk
I come to this not as an expert, but as someone who practices Ayurveda, yoga, and the ongoing lessons of being human. Everything I offer, whether it’s seasonal cleanses, bodywork rituals, or even auricular seeds (now available at Sacred Juniper for insomnia support), I have tried on myself first.
Being human is not easy, nor perfect in any sort of way. It’s in the messiness that growth is born. We will all fuck up, we will all make mistakes, and it’s often in those very moments that the deepest lessons take root. For me, the practice is not about eliminating the messiness, but about learning to meet it with honesty, compassion, and a willingness to keep showing up.
An Invitation to You
I’ll leave you with this question:
Do you have a practice that helps you shift out of negativity bias?
I’d love to hear from you, because I too am still learning, still growing, still practicing.
And like you, I’m moving through the messiness one step, one thought, one practice at a time.