I’m Going to Call It an Ironing Party: On the Limits of Positive Reframing

As a human, I’m pretty open to being coached. (I love getting feedback on how to be better. Please, tell me how to be better! ) My natural emotional set point is on the cheerful and optimistic side of the dial, and I believe in my own power to effect positive change in my life. But, that being said, even I find some of the language bandied about in the coaching world to be a bit too much. A prime example of this is the advice around positive reframing, specifically:

“It’s not that I have to; I get to.”

In this set-up, if you catch yourself thinking something along the lines of, “I have to attend a 3-hour meeting today,” you stop yourself and reframe it as, “I get to attend a 3-hour meeting today.”

Something in me bristles when I hear that. It feels too forced. And if it’s forced and unnatural, it’s not going to work.

We moved into a new house last August, and we did not bring our ironing board with us. It was an interstate move, and we actually brought quite little. It felt like a good time to pare down and consider what was really worth bringing with us into this new home, this new life. Also, at the point when we left our old house, we did not have a new house picked out yet, so we had no idea how big it was going to be, and, in fact,  we were entertaining the idea of buying a small apartment close to campus, living in it for a few years, and then buying a bigger house but keeping the apartment as a rental property. Instead, when we arrived, none of the apartments we toured spoke to us, and my husband fell in love with a huge, 4-bedroom house the second we walked into it.

One of the things I love about this house is its abundance of storage space. There is no shortage of closets. Our old house (which I also loved dearly) had exactly zero closets on the first floor. It was built in 1923. In this house, there is a separate laundry room with built-in shelves. There are two kitchen pantries. Every bedroom, every hallway, has its own closet. If push came to shove, I could live inside my bedroom closet for a few days. In other words—there’s more than enough space to store an ironing board. But I didn’t have one. So I haven’t ironed anything since August.

My mother-in-law showed me how you can actually iron clothes on top of a bed. I was grateful for that lesson, but, for better or worse, I am not that person—the person who’s going to iron kneeling on the floor, making do. And what is life, other than a grand opportunity to get to know yourself better and lean into the way of doing things that works for you?

What actually works better (for me):

So, this little ironing conundrum got me thinking about what actually works for me, in terms of setting myself up for the successful outcome I hope to have. Because it seemed like no amount of telling myself that I get to iron was going to do the trick. And what came to me is that, historically, what works well for me is to buy the right supplies. (I am a warrior with a credit card!)

Buying the right supplies is my number one way of setting myself up for success.

Now, you can’t go overboard with this strategy, or stay in the “preparation” phase forever, of course, but there’s something real about gathering what you need, whether it’s for a hobby, a creative project, or a research idea. It signals a shift.

I’ve noticed this about myself: when I buy a few new things, or take the time to clean out and organize a space, it’s usually a sign that some energy is building. A little spark of enthusiasm. It’s like I’m getting ready to show up differently—to start something, or perhaps to return to something with more intention.

I’ll never forget the hours I spent as an undergraduate in the fall I began my thesis, wandering the aisles of the Staples near my college, picking out a giant 3-ring binder (in which to store the research articles I printed out), packs of index cards (on which to write summaries of each article), and a little recipe card box to organize them (this was genuinely my system. Did I think I was living in 1979? It was 2002!). Binder clips, colorful paper for printing study recruitment flyers—I bought all of it. And I had a great time!

That mattered more than I realized at the time. It was part of how I got myself invested.

Research doesn’t have to feel dull or purely dutiful. You can lean into the parts that feel satisfying, or even a little indulgent. You can amplify what you enjoy. Sometimes that’s exactly what keeps you coming back.

Gretchen Rubin (of The Happiness Project, Better than Before, the Happier podcast) writes about this—if you want to work out more, buy yourself an exercise outfit you’ll be excited to wear. Buy yourself new running shoes, etc. In one of her books, she wrote about adopting a “writing uniform” of comfortable yoga pants and a hoodie and going out to buy five soft white T-shirts she could wear throughout the week, just to make her life comfortable and easy.

All of this is to say (and maybe you saw this coming). I drove to Target and bought myself a new ironing board. I also bought that Niagara starch spray and a stain spray while I was at it.

Image by Filip Mroz via Unsplash

Another strategy that historically has worked well for me is pairing the less-fun task with something I enjoy. In this situation, that would look like ironing while I watch a show that I like (now that I’ve finished How to Get to Heaven from Belfast, I need a new one!). But there’s something to this—ordinarily I wouldn’t take time out of the day to simply indulge, or watch a show that I like (with the exception of maybe watching something while I eat lunch)—so it feels like a treat.

As I write about this, I feel compelled to mention that Margaret Atwood  recommends ironing as a task for blocked writers because there’s something about the repetitive motion that helps unlock your brain. If you’re trying to get unlocked, or pave the way for insights, I would not iron in front of the TV.

So, here’s my plan: I’ve bought the right supplies. I’m sure I can find a new show soon (I can always fall back on watching one of my favorite podcasts on Youtube) and I’m going to call it an ironing party.

Because, even though I think there are limits to the effects of positive reframing, I do think there’s something to the research behind it. I suspect the trick, for me, is not choosing a reframe that refutes reality or feels performative (as in: “Yes! [*pumps fist*] I get to iron today!!”), but one that preserves the truth while shifting my relationship to it. Something like: “I don’t love ironing, but I am choosing to iron because I value looking presentable.” Or even a slight temporal shift—focusing on the version of me who benefits: the future me who opens her closet to a set of freshly ironed clothes and doesn’t feel the low-grade, last-minute stress of having nothing ready to wear.

What’s interesting is that psychological research does actually support this idea. A reframe that feels believable can change not only your mindset but your felt levels of physical stress. Work on cognitive reappraisal shows that when people reinterpret a situation in a way that feels credible, they experience less emotional distress and that is often accompanied by a reduced physiological stress response (i.e., reduced cortisol release and lower activity in the amygdala—the part of the brain associated with the fight-or-flight response). In other words, a good reframe doesn’t just make a situation feel better in a superficial way, it can actually help your body stand down from a stress response.

So maybe the goal isn’t to convince myself that I love ironing. It’s to find a frame that is both true and regulating, one that acknowledges reality, preserves my agency, and nudges my system just enough out of resistance and into something more workable.

Extra Tidbits:

What I’m reading: Caro Claire Burke’s Yesteryear. Oh my gosh, I can’t put it down. I also resubscribed to Sara Petersen’s Substack In Pursuit of Clean Countertops, which dissects all things tradwife. I am always so interested in everything she has to say.

What I’m eating: Roast chicken and roasted new potatoes, plus other roasted vegetables. It turns out this is a very easy meal to get on the table! (Sheet pan, avocado oil, sea salt, oven set to 425, and done!) I’m finally giving my air fryer a bit of a rest.

What I’m making time for: I really want to learn to play tennis. I’m going to try something new! I’m mentioning it here to keep myself accountable. I found a local place that offers lessons for total beginners and that’s what I’m asking for for my birthday this year.