To you wives who are constantly complaining and see only the dark

The words of Gordon B. Hinckley, “To you wives who are constantly complaining and see only the dark side of life, and feel that you are unloved and unwanted, look into your own hearts and minds. If there is something wrong, turn about. Put a smile on your faces. Make yourselves more attractive. Brighten your outlook,” are both a call to reflection and a plea for transformation. They remind us that the heart is often the wellspring of our reality: when bitterness and despair take root within, the world itself seems darkened. Yet when one chooses to lift their spirit, to wear a smile, and to see with eyes of gratitude, even heavy burdens may grow lighter.

At the core of this teaching lies the principle of self-examination. Too often, we look outward to blame others—our partners, our circumstances, our fate—for the sorrows we feel. Hinckley’s counsel urges us instead to first look inward, to our own hearts and minds, and ask if our perspective has become clouded. For the world we see is shaped by the lens through which we gaze. A bitter heart will find bitterness everywhere; a grateful heart will discover light even in shadows. Thus, the first step toward joy is not demanding change from others, but cultivating transformation within ourselves.

The smile, in this context, becomes both symbol and medicine. To put a smile on your face is not merely to feign happiness, but to act as though hope were still alive until it begins to stir again. The ancients believed that the body and soul are intertwined: that posture, expression, and even the tone of voice could summon courage or sink one into despair. By choosing to brighten your outlook, you do not deny life’s struggles, but you deny them the power to define your entire being. The smile then becomes an act of resilience, a refusal to surrender to darkness.

History offers us vivid examples. Consider Eleanor Roosevelt, who endured betrayal in her marriage and deep personal loneliness. She could have withdrawn into bitterness, but instead she chose to brighten her outlook, to put forth kindness, energy, and courage. Her smile and presence became a source of comfort to millions during the Great Depression and World War II. By turning inward to find strength and then radiating it outward, she reshaped her life and gave light to countless others. She lived the truth Hinckley expressed: that the transformation of outlook can transform destiny itself.

It is important also to see this teaching not as a condemnation, but as an invitation. To those who feel unloved and unwanted, Hinckley offers a path forward: change your approach, not by pleading for affection, but by cultivating warmth, kindness, and radiance within yourself. Love attracts love; joy invites joy. If you feel rejected, do not collapse into complaint, but rise into resilience. The smile you wear may be the bridge that draws others back into your life. In this, there is not only wisdom, but empowerment.

The lesson for us all, not only for wives, is timeless: we shape much of our destiny by the spirit we carry. If we live in complaint and negativity, the world will echo it back to us. But if we choose to brighten our outlook, if we choose gratitude, kindness, and resilience, we draw light into our lives and into the lives of others. This is not an easy path, but it is a noble one, for it requires humility, self-awareness, and courage.

To practice this wisdom, begin each day with conscious gratitude. When you feel neglected, search your heart and ask: “What light can I give, even now?” Put on a smile, not as pretense, but as a declaration of resilience. Speak words that uplift rather than wound. Choose actions that build love instead of resentment. Over time, these small acts shift the very fabric of life.

So remember, O seekers of tomorrow: if you feel unwanted and unloved, do not surrender to despair. Look within, turn about, and let your face shine with a smile. For a brightened outlook not only heals the self, but calls forth love, joy, and hope from all around you. In this way, you do not merely endure life—you transform it.