Thankful, Yet Real: A New Perspective on Gratitude

Thanksgiving usually prompts us to pause and reflect on what we’re thankful for. But this year, gratitude is hitting me a little differently. I’ve always considered myself a grateful person—gratitude has been part of my DNA for as long as I can remember. It’s as natural to me as breathing; I just do it. Recently, though, I’ve realized my understanding of gratitude might’ve been a bit… off.

A few weeks ago, I attended a workshop in Nashville led by acclaimed authors Jedidiah Jenkins (To Shake the Sleeping Self, Like Streams to the Ocean, and Mother Nature) and Ruthie Lindsey (There I Am: The Journey from Hopelessness to Healing—A Memoir). It was part writing retreat, part “let’s get in touch with your body and spirit” situation. Honestly, I signed up for the writing part. The embodiment stuff? I thought, “Eh, couldn’t hurt, might help.” But by the end of the weekend, that woo-woo stuff taught me a thing or two about myself—and my views on gratitude were forever changed.

Here’s the deal: gratitude has been messing with me for a while. Anytime something negative popped up, my wiring kicked in with, ‘I should be thankful,’ so I’d push those feelings aside. No need to dwell—just focus on the good stuff, count my blessings, and move on. Society has a way of pushing this narrative too, always reminding us of comparative suffering: “At least you’re not facing this!” The old mantra of “sweep it under the rug” paired nicely with “out of sight, out of mind” for years. But, as Ruthie wisely pointed out, when you sweep stuff under the rug, you're actually sweeping it right into your nervous system. Yikes.

She compared it to leaving too many tabs open on your computer—just switching from one thing to the next without ever closing any of them. Eventually, the system’s gonna crash.

That hit me hard. I realized I wasn’t just leaving a few tabs open; my resourceful self had created an entire folder titled “Gratitude,” and that’s where I filed all my hard feelings. I mean, who needs a therapist when you have a solid filing system, right?

We all have our stories, and within them are two parts: what happened and how we dealt with it. Our toolboxes are filled with different ways of processing things, and this weekend had me taking inventory of my toolbox. I discovered I had so many incredible tools in my arsenal, but a few of them came with outdated instructions. Gratitude, in particular, needed a serious revision.

For as long as I can remember, I used gratitude to bury any negative feelings. The moment something difficult came up, shame would kick in—'How dare you feel this way when someone else has it worse?'—and I'd quickly shut down whatever I was feeling. I was always looking outward, never inward, and, well, that approach didn’t do much for my emotional well-being.

My therapist, Lou-Anne, introduced me to the life-changing concept that “two things can be true.” Sounds easy enough, right? Not for me. My brain was locked into all-or-nothing mode, so this idea flipped my whole perspective. It became a game-changer, especially when I took another look at my “gratitude folder.”

Fun Fact: It turns out you can feel grateful and sad. Angry and grateful? Who knew? For years, I’d been denying myself that freedom. I’d gotten so used to having a million tabs open that I mistook them for my computer wallpaper! But once I finally started to feel the emotions I’d buried under layers of gratitude, the tears came—good, cathartic ones. I closed a lot of those tabs that had been open way too long, and trust me, my system feels a lot lighter now!

So this Thanksgiving, I’m embracing a new kind of gratitude. I can still be thankful, but I can also feel the hard stuff—whether that’s pain, frustration, or sadness. Gratitude isn’t about ignoring the tough stuff; it’s about holding space for everything.