Gratitude

I don’t always say it out loud,

but I’m grateful.

Not in some big, dramatic way —

just in the quiet, steady way you feel

when you look back and realize

you survived things you thought would break you.

I’m grateful for the people who stayed,

and even the ones who left,

because they taught me something

I didn’t know I needed.

I’m grateful for the days that felt impossible

and the nights I didn’t think I’d make it through,

because somehow I did.

I’m grateful for the small things —

the ones nobody notices

but somehow keep me going:

a warm drink,

a song I forgot I loved,

a moment where my chest doesn’t feel so heavy.

And I’m grateful for myself,

even if I don’t say it enough.

For the version of me that kept trying

when it would’ve been easier to give up.

Gratitude doesn’t fix everything,

but it reminds me that not everything is broken.

And some days,

that’s enough.