Gratitude Without a Script
I used to roll my eyes at gratitude practices
Not because I didn’t believe in them, but because they felt forced. Like one more thing I was supposed to do. So, I’d sit with my journal, staring at prompts that asked me to list three things I was grateful for. And I’d think, Really? This again?
But I kept showing up. Not perfectly. Not enthusiastically. Just consistently enough to notice something: even when I wasn’t writing, I was practicing gratitude. Quietly. Internally. In the way I softened toward myself. In the way I noticed beauty in the mundane. In the way I allowed discomfort to sit beside me without needing to fix it. I never expected to say it, but one day I did…
“I’m thankful for my trauma. It’s the reason I’ve become who I am.”
And that’s when it hit me, gratitude doesn’t need a format.
It doesn’t need bullet points or a fancy journal titled Daily Gratitude Practices. It doesn’t need to be nice-looking or profound. It just needs to be real.
Discomfort as a portal
There’s a kind of discomfort that feels like it might swallow you whole. The kind that makes you question everything—your worth, your path, your progress. I’ve sat in that discomfort. I’ve cried in it. I’ve cursed it.
Yet, I’ve also learned from it.
Discomfort, though painful, is the birthplace of transformation. It’s not a sign that something’s wrong, it’s a signal that something’s shifting. And when we allow ourselves to stay present with it, without rushing to escape, we begin to hear the quiet truths it carries.
Turning gratitude inward
So often, gratitude is directed outward — toward people, experiences, things. And while that’s beautiful, it can subtly reinforce the idea that our well-being depends on what others do for us.
But what if we turned gratitude inward?
What if we honored the parts of ourselves that kept going, even when it was hard? What if we thanked our bodies for surviving, our minds for adapting, our hearts for staying open?
That kind of gratitude is revolutionary. It’s reclaiming. It’s deep soul level healing.
Let It Be Messy
There’s no right way to practice gratitude. No perfect journal. No ideal prompt. Just your truth, in whatever form it takes.