Okay, so define how you see real optimism.
Optimism is not about expecting things to go well. It’s about maintaining an ability to think clearly, stay open, and respond when faced with roadblocks, setbacks, and less-than-ideal situations. A real optimist sees setbacks as something they have the capacity to move through, even if they don’t yet know how or when. It’s the ability to say, this is difficult but I wonder how this will change or what might come from this.
What’s the biggest misconception?
The biggest misconception is that optimism is the same as positivity. Real optimism is grounded in reality—it allows for difficulty, uncertainty, even grief—and still leaves room for movement.
In our positivity-obsessed culture, we have come to believe that the goal of mental health is to eliminate stress and conflict and to try to be happy all the time. “Good vibes only”, “find your bliss”, “always look on the bright side”—these may seem like harmless slogans on a T-shirt or Instagram post, but their prevalence points to a deep desire in our culture to feel as good as possible, as often as possible.
You say in the book that optimism is not something we are born with. It’s not magic, it’s a muscle. How do we build that then?
We’re living in a moment of sustained uncertainty and constant input. And when the brain is exposed to that kind of environment, it shifts. We become more reactive, more certain in our fears, more likely to assume the worst.
What I see increasingly is not just stress—it’s disengagement. People feel overwhelmed, or they start to numb out. They stop trusting their own thinking. For instance, the brain resists affirmations if they feel disconnected from reality. Visualisation is most effective when it’s grounded in process, not just outcome. And intuition isn’t something abstract or magical; it’s your brain integrating past data and lived experience.
Like a muscle, optimism requires resistance in order to grow. If you want to become more optimistic, you need to challenge yourself to embrace the struggles and the resistance that will inevitably get in your way. This requires you to see setbacks that arise beyond your control as opportunities for learning and growth and to take risks and seek out opportunities to help you reach your goals and achieve the life you want.
How long did it take you to write this? How have you structured the book?
This book is built on over a decade of work, but I’ve been conceptually developing these ideas for about five years. The writing process took over two years.
The structure mirrors how we experience challenges. It begins with what’s happening in the brain. Then it moves into interpretation—the patterns we use to make sense of what’s happening. From there, it expands into the tools: how we interrupt those patterns, regulate ourselves, and shift from rumination to agency. And throughout, it’s grounded in science, but it’s also deeply human. It weaves together research, practical tools, client stories, and my own lived experience.
The book also revisits and gently challenges many of the tools people think they understand, like affirmations, visualisation, manifestation, and even intuition, grounding them in how the brain works so they become more usable and less performative.
It closes with a practical, science-based 33-day challenge, which helps people move from understanding these ideas to applying them. Why 33? If you can do something for 33 days, you’ll probably do it for another 33 if you stay motivated, and once you prioritise your personal wellness it’s hard not to. The tasks are straightforward, from making a ‘ta-da’ list (rather than a to-do list) to playing an adult version of I Spy, to scheduling worry time and taking part in some form of community action.
You’re a parent to young children, as am I. How do we create a spirit of optimism in our children?
I think we often try to give children certainty, but what they need is the ability to navigate uncertainty. So instead of telling them everything will be okay, we should show them how to move through situations when they aren’t okay. It means allowing them to feel disappointed or frustrated without immediately fixing it. It means helping them identify what they are feeling and then guiding them toward what they can do next. It is not so much about shaping their experiences as about shaping how they interpret those experiences. And that becomes their internal voice.
How do you show up for someone with optimism?
Most people aren’t looking to be fixed in [tough] moments. They’re looking to be met. To feel like their experience makes sense. Real optimism doesn’t rush past emotion; it makes space for it. It sounds like “that makes sense”, “of course you feel this way—this is hard”. It validates the experience without letting it become the entire story. And then, gently, it expands the frame. It’s reminding someone of what they’ve handled before or simply staying with them in the moment. It helps you stay connected to it without becoming overwhelmed by it.
How do you ground yourself? What are the habits and rituals that help you go forward?
For me, grounding is about shifting state, not just thoughts. Music is one of the fastest ways I do that. It interrupts the loop of thinking and changes my emotional state without needing to analyse it. Awe is another—moments that expand perspective, whether that’s being outside, something beautiful, or even a moment of connection. It reminds me that what I’m in is not everything. And then there are simple practices: slowing my breathing, stepping away from constant input, creating space before reacting. Because you can’t think your way out of overwhelm if your body still feels under threat.