LAYLA:
The key to dealing with Denial is similar to what was said of Despair: allow the state to serve its purpose but then move on. After all, Denial is a natural part of life- it’s a human instinct to shield ourselves when reality crashes in too sharply. But when we cling to it, when we stretch it beyond its practicality, it starts to erode rather than protect (even if it feels comforting in the moment).  
And that’s exactly the catch: because it feels so good, it’s easy to stay. We make a home in it, get comfortable, ignore that inner voice trying to wake us- to show us that we’re isolating ourselves- existing not in reality, but in an imagined sanctuary.
To be honest, I’m not someone who tends towards outright Denial. Fantasy and projection perhaps- they can be more subtle ways of experiencing it, easier to overlook. But blatant Denial? I’d rather know the truth, no matter how painful. I want to be hit with it, potently, squarely, but once. Then I can begin to deal with it.
Difficult childhood experiences taught me that Denial is not an escape but a postponement- the darkness of life will find us. And the longer we try to avoid it, the greater the intensity when it finally catches up.
Personally, the main thing I was in denial about for a long time was my bisexuality. It took years to really accept it, to stop brushing it off as “just a phase” and actually let it be part of who I am.

PATRIZIA:
I loved reading the chapter that Whyte dedicates to Denial, described as a state of being that is “ever present and unavoidable in a human life” and as “the crossroads between perception and readiness”.
Denial is the momentary shield that has allowed me to gradually adjust to the loss of my loved ones which, if taken in all at once, would have crushed mind and soul. In me, denial has somehow found a way of coexisting with acceptance. Like a true friend, it resurfaces when I most feel their absence and lets me believe, for a moment, that I would still see them smiling at me if I knocked on their door.
Whyte says that denial is a “beautiful skin shed” which should be “left to be seen”, not hidden in shame, to comfort others by openly sharing this very human experience. It is a comforting way of reframing this feeling and I believe it to be right: denial is not a burrow where weakness hides, but a merciful emotion whose purpose is to serve those who experience life with empathy and intensity.

BRUNELLA:
Among all our psychological defences, denial is perhaps the most intricate: an involuntary, almost automatic refusal to accept a reality that is too distressing, too destabilising to bear.
I have often thought that denial kept my mother going when she was confronted with the shattering news of the premature, unexpected and unbearable death of her youngest child Franco. A denial that lasted years, that gave her just enough shelter, just enough time to slowly absorb what could not be absorbed all at once, to interiorise such a loss without falling into madness.
I, on the other hand, responded with something slightly different: negation. I was fully aware of my brother’s death- yet I refused it inwardly, taking refuge in fantasy. I told myself he was still at the University of Siena, that one day he would come home and that I would be able to hug him again.
Neither my mother nor I went to our beloved Franco’s funeral.
There is a subtle distinction between denial and negation. The first operates unconsciously, a refusal to acknowledge a painful aspect of reality. The second is more deliberate: it recognises the reality, yet rejects it nonetheless. Both, however, reveal a fracture in our capacity to hold reality as it is.
Faced with profoundly destabilising events- such as the Covid-19 pandemic or the unfolding climate crisis- we have seen the rise of “deniers”. The anxiety caused by an epidemic and the fear of ecological catastrophe has activated denial not only as an individual defence, but as a collective one.
As Whyte observes: “Denial is an ever present and even splendid thing when seen in the light of its merciful and elemental powers to cradle and hold an identity until it is ready to move on.” And he concludes: “To live in denial is to be in very good company. Denial is the crossroads between perception and readiness, to deny denial is to invite powers into our lives we have not yet readied ourselves to meet.”