If one more person tells me to “just be grateful,” I might scream.
It’s not that I don’t believe in gratitude. I do. But the way it’s often packaged: forced smiles, toxic positivity, and a guilt trip about your blessings, feels more like performance than healing.
This post is about a different kind of gratitude. One that makes room for honesty. And still helps you breathe.
When Gratitude Feels Like Gaslighting
Let’s be real: some days, gratitude lists feel like lies. You know those moments when you’re anxious, burnt out, or grieving, and someone says “but at least…” as if naming one good thing should cancel out everything else?
That’s not gratitude. That’s emotional bypassing.
Real gratitude doesn’t erase hard things. It holds them, while gently reminding you that more than one feeling can be true.
The Gratitude Practice That Doesn’t Feel Fake
I’ve discovered a practice that truly helps me shift my perspective: Instead of crafting a list of five random things, I focus on one powerful statement:
“Today, I’m grateful for [insert truth]… and here’s how I can better appreciate it.”
Example:
“Today, I’m grateful for my supportive friends; they remind me of the connections I cherish, even when I’m feeling a bit disconnected..”
or
“I’m grateful for this slow morning as it provides a gentle reminder to pause, even if my mind feels busy.”
It’s real. It’s layered. It doesn’t pretend.
Gratitude for the Ambivert Brain
Our nervous systems are complex. As ambiverts, we’re always toggling social to silent, strong to soft. So it makes sense that our gratitude might feel layered too.
Try being grateful for things like:
- Clarity, even if it came after a breakdown
- Your ability to reset, even if it takes a day of silence
- That one friend who gets it, even if you only talk once a month
Gratitude isn’t supposed to guilt you into joy. It’s supposed to ground you in what’s still true, even when life feels messy.
So if you’ve ever felt weird about practicing gratitude, that’s okay. Maybe you just needed a version that made room for you.
No fluff. No force. Just honest thanks, in your own voice.