I was sitting in a café this morning with my green tea, wedged pleasantly between the coffee machine and the door. The barista asked each person who came in some version of how are you going? Four times before I'd finished my pot, the answer came back the same: "The struggle is real."
A laugh. A nod. A flat white handed over. Next.
It's 3 November. And I couldn't stop wondering what that phrase was really carrying.
What is "the struggle is real" actually doing?
It's a clever little phrase. In five words it does several jobs at once:
It names that something is hard without having to say what.
It asks for solidarity. It invites the other person to say "same", and they usually do.
It keeps things light. A half-joke lets us admit to tiredness without being too exposed in a coffee queue.
It closes the conversation. There's nowhere for it to go next.
And November has its own flavour. For many of us in Australia and New Zealand, this is the long stretch where the year starts to feel heavy. Reports, marking, end-of-year events, budgets, Christmas creeping onto the shelves, and a body that has been running on reserves since about August. The phrase is shorthand for I'm depleted, and I suspect you are too.
That shared recognition matters. Being seen is a form of care. But there's a catch.
When the shorthand becomes the story
When we repeat a phrase often enough, it stops describing our experience and starts shaping it. "The struggle is real" is a summary of a feeling, not the feeling itself. It skips the specifics, so we never get to the part where something could shift.
There's research that helps here. Putting feelings into precise words, sometimes called affect labelling, can soften their intensity. Naming I'm overwhelmed by the number of small decisions this week gives the brain something to work with. "The struggle is real" doesn't. On the flip side, studies of co-rumination show that repeatedly talking about problems together can deepen closeness and increase distress, especially when the conversation circles rather than moves.
This is where wellbeing literacy comes in: the language we use about wellbeing is not neutral. It builds, maintains or chips away at it. A phrase said four times before 9am in one café is a small cultural signal about how we're collectively talking ourselves into the end of the year.
How do we flip it?
Not with forced positivity. The struggle often is real, and pretending otherwise is its own kind of exhaustion. The flip is about adding a next sentence, so the phrase becomes a doorway rather than a full stop.
1. Add an "and". "The struggle is real, and I've just had a decent night's sleep." "The struggle is real, and I'm taking a proper lunch break today." The "and" doesn't cancel the hard thing. It just makes room for what else is true.
2. Get specific. Swap the summary for the detail. "I'm tired because I've said yes to three extra things this month." Specific names lead to specific actions. Vague names lead to vague dread.
3. Ask the next question. If someone says it to you, try a gentle follow-up: "What's the realest bit today?" or "What's helping, even a little?" You'd be surprised how often people have an answer waiting.
4. Try a different script. A few alternatives I'm playing with:
"It's a full season, and I'm pacing myself."
"I'm running low, so I'm being choosy about where my energy goes."
"Hard week. Good tea, though."
That last one is mine. It keeps the honesty and the lightness, and adds one small thing that's going right.
5. Treat the phrase as data. As a Citizen Wellbeing Scientist, I find it useful to notice when I reach for a stock phrase. It's often a sign I haven't checked in with myself properly. The phrase becomes a prompt: what's actually going on, and what do I need?
Coach yourself
When did you last say (or think) "the struggle is real"? What were you actually feeling in that moment?
If you added an "and" to that sentence today, what would follow it?
What is the most specific name you can give to what feels hard right now?
Which conversations this week leave you feeling lighter, and which leave you circling? What's the difference?
What's one small thing that is going right that you could name out loud today?
How might you respond the next time someone says it to you, in a way that offers connection and a little movement?
What do you want the story of your November to be, and what language will help you get there?
The struggle may well be real. So is your choice of the next sentence.