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What's happening: With Thanksgiving around the corner and surgery a few weeks away, I've been thinking about gratitude - but not in that "just be thankful!" way that makes you want to scream.
What you'll find here: How to hold space for both the hard stuff AND the good stuff, plus a framework for gratitude that doesn't dismiss your very real struggles.
The real talk: You can be grateful for what you have AND terrified about what's ahead. Those feelings aren't mutually exclusive - they're just... human.
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Hey {{first_name}},
For a long time, when someone would tell me to "just be grateful" or when I'd try to do gratitude exercises, I'd get angry. Like, genuinely frustrated. Because it felt like all my real pain, sadness, worry, and fear was being cast aside. Diminished. Invalidated.
Those feelings? They matter. They're justified. They're real human emotions that deserve space.
When it comes to my health problems, I keep defaulting to "at least you have insurance so you can afford this." Which, yes, is true! But the deeper truth is that I'm scared. I'm dealing with health issues I didn't expect to face in my 30s - or ever, really. And it's terrifying to navigate them.
That fear is real. And brushing it aside with a "welp, at least I'm insured" mindset? That's not gratitude. That's toxic positivity wearing a gratitude costume.
So how do I find genuine gratitude without dismissing the hard stuff? I'm still figuring it out, pero here's what I’m leaning on:
The difference is in one tiny word: "and" versus "but."
With toxic positivity, you say: "This year has been hard, BUT at least I have my health/job/family."
With genuine gratitude, you say: "This year has been hard, AND I'm grateful for the people who've shown up for me."
You see the difference? One invalidates your experience. The other holds space for both truths at once.
The other night, I had worked an 11-hour day. By choice, I should add - I've been feeling this internal pressure to deliver and have been grinding to meet some personally ambitious goals (yes, I'm working on this in therapy to reset healthy boundaries).
By 8:45 PM, I was drained. Burnt out. Ready to throw my laptop across the room in exhaustion. My dogs were whining for attention as I tried to wrap up some final tasks, and I could feel my irritation rising.
Then I looked at the clock. 8:45 PM. I really should have logged off hours ago.
I looked at my dogs and thought: I'm so lucky to have them, and sadly they won't be here forever. I'm gonna kick myself later for not giving them more love and attention now.
So I shut my laptop. Just... closed it mid-task. And I curled up on the couch with my pups. I told them I loved them and that I was so happy to be their momma.
Did it magically fix my burnout? No. I was still exhausted. But I felt better. That pocket of peace - that moment of choosing what actually mattered - it helped bring me back a little. It reminded me that even in the chaos, there are these small, beautiful moments worth noticing.
On days when life gets overwhelming (which, let's be honest, feels too often lately), I let myself sit in the ick. Whatever it may be - sadness, grief, anger, fear. I don't rush through it or try to "positive think" my way out of it.
But afterward? I take time to list out some of the good.
It starts kind of general: "I'm so thankful to be employed and insured right now." But then it gets more specific, more grounded in the actual moments that made up my day: "I'm glad I spent 15 minutes tossing the ball with my dog today. He looked so happy. And I felt good being outdoors and focused on his joy."
Those specific moments - that's where real gratitude lives. Not in the big, performative declarations, but in noticing the small things. The dogs who remind you to log off work. The body that's carrying you through hard things, even when it's also the source of some of those hard things. The friend who shows up without being asked.
Lately, I've been doing something I didn't expect: praying. I'm not big on religion (long story for another day), but maybe 1-2 times a week, I light a candle and make a little plea to the universe/god/whatever higher power might be listening.
It's part of my family's Catholic upbringing, mixed with some cultural beliefs in the supernatural. But lighting that candle? It's become this powerful symbol. A physical representation that my gratitude is present, even when everything feels uncertain.
I ask for what I need, yes. But I also ask for continued [fill in the blank]. Continued health. Continued support. Continued strength. It reminds me of what I already have and would like to keep having. Instead of just focusing on what's missing or what's hard, I'm reminded of what is present.
And honestly? It feels good. Almost like someone is looking out, you know?
🌻 Finding Gratitude Without the Toxic Positivity
Use "and" instead of "but"
"I had a really difficult week at work AND I'm proud of how I showed up for that presentation." You're not dismissing the difficulty - you're making space for both experiences to be true.
Process the ick.
Don't rush to gratitude when you're in pain. Let yourself feel the hard stuff fully. Not feeling grateful right now doesn't mean you're ungrateful - it means life got hard and you need to process.
Get specific
Instead of "I'm grateful for my friends," try "I'm grateful that Laila stayed with me for two hours when I needed support." The specificity makes it real.
Find your ritual
Whether it's lighting a candle, journaling, or a quiet moment with your morning coffee, create a small practice that grounds you. Mine involves a candle and a few minutes of talking to the universe. Yours might look completely different.
Notice the pockets of peace
Even on overwhelming days, there are usually small moments worth savoring. Your dog's happy face. The way the light hits your room. A text from someone who loves you. These aren't distractions from the hard stuff - they're proof that both can exist at once.
As I head into Thanksgiving week and my surgery recovery in December, I'm practicing this gentler form of gratitude. I'm grateful for my support system AND I'm scared about the surgery. I'm thankful for my body's resilience AND I'm frustrated by its limitations. I appreciate having insurance AND I'm overwhelmed by all the medical appointments.
All of it can be true at once.
Because here's what I keep coming back to: gratitude isn't about pretending the hard parts don't exist. It's about refusing to let the hard parts be the only story. It's about finding those pockets of peace - however small - and letting them coexist with the chaos.
What's one pocket of peace or gratitude you've found recently, even amidst the chaos? What are you learning about holding both the hard feelings and the appreciation?
If you're comfortable sharing, reply and tell me. I promise I won't respond with "at least" or "but" - just genuine recognition that life is beautifully complicated and we're all doing our best.
¿Qué dijo? / What did she say?
Pero - But