Alignment Through Gratitude: Stepping Into What Matters Most
- The Broken & Beautiful
- Feb 27
- 3 min read
I grew up in a small coal mining town in Eastern Kentucky where everyone knew everybody. I learned early how to stay small. How not to draw attention. How to survive by blending in. I did not have language for it then, but my response to being different was to disappear. Do not rock the boat. Do not speak up. Be just enough of myself.
Hiding myself eventually became an identity. I learned how to live as an outcast without ever challenging it. I learned how to play the role of the misunderstood one, even the victim, because it felt safer than risking alignment with who I actually was.
Part of that disconnect came from growing up with a non-verbal autistic brother. I can say this now without flinching. I was ashamed. Not of him, but of what being associated with him reflected back to me at that age. I did not have the emotional tools to process it, and instead of compassion, I chose distance. I have since learned to extend grace to that younger version of myself who was overwhelmed and unequipped.
Comfort Is Not Alignment
At twenty one, I left my hometown and moved to Richmond, Virginia. After years of chasing direction, I found creative work that gave me a sense of contribution and belonging. For a season, I was aligned. Then gradually, I was not.
Over the next twelve years, my passions dulled. Old habits returned. I buried myself, my dreams, and the parts of me that required courage. It was not dramatic. It was efficient. Comfortable.
Head down. Time passing. Life continuing without my participation.
Choosing Gratitude as Practice
Now in the latter part of my forties, the truth about time is undeniable. It moves fast. It does not wait. My dad used to snap his fingers and say "it is gone just like that." I understand him now. That clarity changed me.
The day I decided to live was the day I chose gratitude. Not as a mood. As a practice. Not because life suddenly improved, but because I remembered what life felt like when gratitude was present. I reached for it deliberately.
I marked my body with it as a reminder, knowing full well I would not always live up to it.
Since receiving this tattoo, I have failed at gratitude for extended periods of time more than once.
Living Upright Again
Still, when gratitude becomes a consistent orientation, alignment follows. Not instantly, but inevitably. Struggles remain, but they lose authority. Shame surfaces, but it no longer defines the landscape. Gratitude provides something solid to stand on when everything else wavers.
Life feels slower now. Clearer. I am doing things I once hoped for without forcing them. Growth feels organic again.
The world has not changed. I have.
I still wrestle with anxiety and depression. I still have days when bitterness feels familiar and inviting. My former self is always nearby. That awareness keeps me honest.
Gratitude is not denial. It is alignment.
I accept my seasons of shame. I am grateful for what they taught me.
I am grateful for the people still walking beside me.
And I am grateful that I still have time to live fully.
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