Cherophobia is the fear of happiness.

We hear jokes in movies and on television all the time about how a relationship went sour because one or both parties were miserable and afraid to be happy. It’s a good punchline.

It’s also a legitimate problem for some people.

I do wonder if “fear” might be too strong a term, or perhaps too simplistic. There’s paranoia, sure; mistrust of happiness might be a better descriptor instead. In some cases, yes, that mistrust could be extreme and insurmountable.

Happiness is scary when it’s a great unknown. Pain and abuse and trauma may be awful, but at least it’s familiar. There’s an upside down comfort to that. If someone has managed to find some stability in their life, where historically all they’ve known is great instability, they’ll fight boorishly against anything that threatens their current day-to-day stable life, even if underneath the surface they’re still living in crisis mode inside.

For some, it’s a matter of fearing the pain that comes with processing trauma. I speak from experience when I say that that part sucks, I won’t sugarcoat it, but it is necessary for healing and finding peace and happiness. However, some people are “stuck” in survival mode or in a base level stasis and fear rocking the boat. They’re worried they’ll drown in the water and never get to happiness anyway, so they don’t see the point in trying.

For others, they’ve overly leaned into their pathology as their identity; their anxiety or depression or PTSD, or something specific relating to their trauma, consumes their perspective of who they are. Sometimes there’s even the thought that it’s just an unavoidable reality. “Well, I’m anxious, that’s just who I am, I can’t change that.” Processing and healing from trauma, or taking steps to receive effective support for their mental health, that would lead to finding happiness, could also mean feeling unmoored. “Who am I if I’m not (insert unhappy identifying feature here)?”

For still others, like myself, it’s both of these factors and probably even more. Here’s an unpopular opinion for you:

It’s okay to be afraid to be happy. It’s okay not to trust it. It’s understandable to feel like it’s not worth the risk, or that you don’t deserve it, or that it’s not meant for you. That hot-button word “deserve” is legitimately something I continue to struggle with, eight years and counting into my work in therapy. I still have a REALLY hard time believing in my core that I deserve to be happy, that I deserve anything good at all. But, I do (see, it even gave me pause just to type those words there!). You do too. (That was not so hard to type — it’s not other people’s happiness I’m afraid of, it’s my own. There’s a reason I named my blog “Journeys in the Dark” besides the subtle nod to The Lord of the Rings.)

The only effective solution I have found that helps combat cherophobia — or, if not officially a phobia, a distrust or rejection of happiness as a possibility for your life — is to engage people you trust in reminding you that it is, in fact, possible for you, and you do, in fact, deserve to be happy. Ask your loved ones for help. …Or just read this blog post, I will help you!

Happiness is possible for you. You deserve to be happy.

I know it’s scary — but, rock the boat. Do the work. Get to the other side. Take as long as you need; I’ll be here waiting for you.