Soft Life, Hard Truths

I am grateful.

I want to say that first, clearly, without defensiveness or qualification.

I am grateful for my children. I am grateful for my body. I am grateful for the life I get to live.

And still — being told to “just be grateful” made me resentful.

Not because gratitude is wrong, but because it was used to silence something real.

Gratitude Was Weaponized Against Reality

When doctors told me I would never naturally conceive, I mourned a future I thought I would never have.

There was grief there — real, embodied grief. The kind that changes how you imagine your life unfolding.

Then the universe gave me twins.

Two. At once. Fully. Completely.

And suddenly, gratitude became the only acceptable emotion.

People didn’t say it cruelly. They said it gently. Reassuringly. As if reminding me to be grateful would fix the weight I was carrying.

But gratitude doesn’t erase overwhelm.
It doesn’t regulate a nervous system.
It doesn’t create capacity where there is none.

Holding Two Truths Is Harder Than People Admit

I can be grateful and drowning.

I can love my children and feel completely in over my head.

I can recognize the miracle and still struggle with the magnitude of what it requires from me.

Those truths don’t cancel each other out — but “just be grateful” tries to collapse them into one acceptable narrative.

That collapse is what creates resentment.

Why Gratitude Didn’t Help When I Needed Support

Gratitude is reflective.
Support is practical.

What I needed wasn’t perspective — it was help. Structure. Relief. Understanding.

Being reminded of how lucky I was didn’t reduce the mental load, the exhaustion, or the constant sense of responsibility.

It just added guilt.

Guilt for feeling tired.
Guilt for feeling overwhelmed.
Guilt for not matching the narrative everyone else found comforting.

When Gratitude Becomes a Bypass

Spiritual and emotional bypassing often hides behind gratitude.

“Others have it worse.”
“You got what you wanted.”
“This is a blessing.”

Those statements shut down honest conversation.

They replace curiosity with conclusion. They skip over lived experience in favor of moral framing.

And when someone is already stretched thin, that dismissal hurts.

The Isolation of Feeling Unallowed to Struggle

One of the loneliest parts of this experience was feeling like my struggle was inappropriate.

As if hardship disqualified itself because of how my children came into the world.

I wasn’t allowed to be exhausted. I wasn’t allowed to grieve the version of myself I lost. I wasn’t allowed to say, “This is too much today.”

Because how could I complain — after everything?

That pressure didn’t make me stronger.
It made me quieter.

Resentment Grows Where Honesty Isn’t Allowed

Resentment didn’t come from my children.

It came from the suppression of my truth.

It came from swallowing hard moments instead of naming them. From performing gratitude instead of feeling supported.

Resentment grows when emotions don’t have permission to exist.

What I Needed Instead of Gratitude Reminders

I needed someone to say:

• “That sounds like a lot.”
• “Both things can be true.”
• “You don’t have to justify your exhaustion.”
• “You’re allowed to struggle and still be grateful.”

That kind of validation regulates the nervous system.
It creates safety.

Gratitude alone does not.

Learning to Reclaim Gratitude on My Own Terms

Eventually, I had to separate gratitude from obligation.

I stopped using it as a moral requirement and let it become something quieter, more personal.

Gratitude returned when it wasn’t demanded.

It showed up naturally — alongside grief, exhaustion, love, and frustration — without needing to dominate the emotional landscape.

Why I Talk About This Now

Because so many mothers are told to be grateful when what they need is support.

Because gratitude is too often used to invalidate overwhelm — especially when children are involved.

Because being honest about this doesn’t make you ungrateful.

It makes you human.

If “Just Be Grateful” Has Ever Made You Feel Small

You’re not wrong for feeling resentful.

You weren’t rejecting gratitude — you were resisting erasure.

You’re allowed to honor the miracle and acknowledge the cost.

Both truths deserve space.