Finding Gratitude in the Hard Stuff

Learning to say thank you — even when life looks different than you imagined.

Gratitude — it’s one of my favorite words.

There’s so much to be grateful for. It doesn’t take much to think about your people — the ones who show up for you, root for you, and believe in you when you have trouble believing in yourself.

This Thanksgiving, I’ve been thinking a lot about that. About how gratitude doesn’t always show up in the easy moments. Sometimes, it finds you right in the middle of the hard ones.

I’m grateful for my husband. For my family. For old and new colleagues who’ve supported me. For friends who make me laugh until I cry. And for every single dog that’s ever brightened my day.

Over the past few weeks, I’ve returned to work after surgery — finally engaging my mind again, reconnecting with purpose, and feeling that spark that comes from doing what I love. I’ve started working out again, too — slowly rebuilding my strength, my rhythm, and my confidence.

It hasn’t been easy. Relearning how to run after they removed muscle tissue from my inner thigh in my latest procedure has tested every ounce of patience I have. But I’m grateful I can run. I’m grateful I have legs that carry me forward, one step at a time.

This morning, I ran the Turkey Trot — the farthest and fastest I’ve gone since surgery. It wasn’t about the pace (though, yes, I’m that competitive person who shows up at the family 5K in a Boston Marathon jacket). It was about celebrating what my body can do. About honoring the joy that still lives inside movement.

Healing is teaching me to own what it looks like — including a swollen face that reminds me daily of what I’ve overcome. It’s not easy, but I’m grateful I can still laugh, still smile, still show up fully as myself.

And mostly, I’m grateful for the simplest things — the ones that don’t make headlines but make a life.
For the breath in my lungs, steady and strong.
For the sunrise that insists on showing up, even after the darkest night.
For my husband — whose strength has carried me through more than he knows.
For the people who make me feel seen and loved, just as I am.
For the courage to walk into an office with a still-swollen face — and realize that the people who matter don’t see imperfection; they see perseverance.
For the strength to keep moving toward the light, even when the road twists and the view looks different than I imagined.

Because gratitude doesn’t erase the hard things — it reframes them. It softens the edges. It reminds us that even in the dark, there’s always something worth noticing, something worth loving, something worth saying thank you for.

A note from me to you

If this season feels complicated — if you’re somewhere between healing and hoping — I hope you pause to find one small thing to be grateful for.

It doesn’t have to be big. Maybe it’s a slice of apple pie, a text from a friend, or the simple fact that your heart keeps beating, quietly and determinedly, through it all.

Gratitude isn’t about pretending everything is perfect. It’s about realizing that you’re still here — still growing, still learning, still capable of joy.

So wherever you are right now, I hope you take a deep breath and remember: light always finds its way in.

Happy Thanksgiving, friends — I’m grateful for you.

With love and light,
Nicky