Psychological Flexibility
In my time as a psychotherapist—having seen clients, gone through my own therapy, and undergone training in Acceptance and Commitment Therapy (ACT)—one concept that continually surfaces when it comes to resilience and navigating hardships is psychological flexibility.
Put simply, psychological flexibility is the ability to see things and make decisions with openness and adaptability. Research has shown that this kind of flexibility contributes significantly to well-being, maturity, and resilience. From my own experience, I couldn’t agree more.
Now, psychological flexibility doesn’t mean being wishy-washy, indecisive, or drifting aimlessly through life. Though, if I put on my “psychologically flexible hat,” I might say that even drifting could have its merits—depending on the situation. And that’s the point: psychological flexibility allows us to see multiple perspectives, recognise that life is full of choices and shifting circumstances, and accept that change is constant, with countless possible outcomes.
One good example is the common advice to “think positive.” That’s quite one-sided, isn’t it? There are also benefits to thinking negatively—it helps us anticipate risks and prepare for what could go wrong, which is equally important. My take is: yes, think negatively, but also balance it by seeing what could be positive. After all, you’re the captain of your ship. You need to see the entire map, understand the terrain and conditions, and then chart your course toward your destination as wisely as you can.
Another example comes from a podcast I recently heard celebrating Nvidia CEO Jensen Huang’s mindset of embracing self-criticism and suffering in the pursuit of growth and excellence. My psychologically flexible hat went on again: yes, suffering can be meaningful when we do something important and challenging—but we don’t always have to suffer. If there’s an easier or happier way that achieves the same result (or even a better, more sustainable one), why not take it? Being flexible means recognising when struggle is necessary and when it isn’t. Sometimes the hard path makes sense; other times, it doesn’t. And even suffering can be viewed through a flexible lens—appreciating the impermanence of life and the fact that hardship, too, can pass.
Ultimately, psychological flexibility opens up a wider realm of human experience. It reveals more choices, perspectives, and possibilities—allowing us to choose what aligns with our values and makes the most sense for us at that time.
A final example: let’s apply psychological flexibility to self-esteem. Some people see themselves in a negative light—“I’m just an introvert; no one likes me.” That might feel valid. After all, if you don’t reach out, it’s no surprise that connection can feel lacking. But a psychologically flexible view would also see the other side: being quiet has its benefits. Not everything needs to be said. Silence can be restful—and even powerful. Maybe it’s simply not your crowd. You might even recall times when you did connect—when your energy and curiosity flowed easily. Or notice how others appreciate your calm presence because it brings them peace. You might also realise that introversion isn’t fixed; perhaps, in time, you’ll find a balance between introversion and extroversion. And interestingly, even extroverts can feel lonely or misunderstood at times.
With psychological flexibility, we begin to see the landscape of our thoughts and experiences more clearly. We become wiser, gentler with ourselves, and more at peace.
So there you go—a simple concept, yet one that can profoundly change the way we experience life, helping us build resilience and cultivate lasting mental well-being.
If you could apply psychological flexibility to any aspect of your life right now, what new insights might you discover? And how might that shift your sense of well-being and resilience?
