Recently I stumbled upon a thread where several women were venting about gratitude — not in a light way, but with genuine irritation. The gist was: “I’m sick of being told to be grateful.” One voice said gratitude had become overused, misused, handed out like a generic prescription whether someone is thriving or drowning. Another insisted that timing matters, that asking someone in the middle of emotional pain to “practice gratitude” is like standing over a person with a broken leg in the ER and whispering spiritual advice instead of offering actual care.
From there, the conversation spiralled into a critique of what they called New Age fluff: empty teachings, workshops full of jargon, and so-called “energy” frameworks that eventually pin everything on the individual with a subtle message of “If it’s not working, it’s your fault.” Some went as far as calling it gaslighting, spiritual bypassing dressed in incense and fabric, a kind of ideological trap that pushes people into forced positivity or strange dissociative states. The overall tone was exasperated — a firm rejection of anything that tells people to “think differently” instead of tending to their real, human, present-moment struggles.
And here’s where I slam on the brakes and say: absolutely not. Not on my watch.
Because while I totally understand the frustration with forced gratitude — Goddess knows I’ve rolled my eyes at more than one “just raise your vibration” sermon — the leap from “gratitude shouldn’t be forced” to “gratitude is harmful, suspicious, or useless”? That’s where I call full cosmic-grade BS.
Let’s get one thing straight:
Gratitude is not a substitute for medical care.
It’s not an alternative to compassion.
And it’s definitely not a spiritual sticker you slap onto an open wound.
But here’s the part no one seems to want to say out loud:
It’s also not the villain.
You don’t choose between spirituality or medicine.
Between energy work or emotional support.
Between gratitude or a casserole delivered to your door when life implodes.
This isn’t a cosmic menu where you must pick one side dish —
I’ll take the antibiotics, hold the gratitude please, thank you very much.
No.
You get the whole damn buffet.
Yes, you get to cry, get help, receive care, collapse if needed, and call your best friend to complain about literally everything. For a while.
And yes — that same day — you get to be the creatrix of your life, shaping the energy you bring to every experience, even the awful ones.
It’s like when I was recovering from surgery. I was scared, exhausted, stitched up, and moving like a half-sentient turtle.
Did I need medical care? Obviously.
Did I need tenderness, patience, and help? Absolutely.
Did I also practice gratitude every single day because it kept me sane and sovereign? Yes.
Not instead of care — alongside it.
Because my healing wasn’t just physical. It was energetic, emotional, creative.
All of it mattered.
Being a creatrix means I don’t get to play the victim of circumstances and simultaneously claim the power to shape my universe.
It’s an either-or equation.
But it’s not the one people think it is.
It’s not:
either medicine or magic
either support or sovereignty
either pain or gratitude.
It’s either creatrix or victim.
And I know which one I’m choosing, even when I’m in the ER, even when I’m in deep shock, even when the universe feels like it has dropped an anvil on my head.
(Which, let’s be honest, it occasionally does. Rude.)
Gratitude isn’t there to bypass reality.
It’s there to anchor you in your power while you walk through reality.
It’s a practice, not a performance.
An orientation, not a denial.
A daily oath you whisper to your own soul:
I’m still here. I’m still choosing. I’m still creating.
Gratitude doesn’t erase the mess.
It simply reminds you that you are more than the mess.
So let’s talk about gratitude the way I actually live it — not as a pastel affirmation plastered over a dumpster fire, but as a choice, a stance, a daily muscle I flex because I want to stay sovereign in my own energy.
Gratitude is not smiling politely at life while it throws lemons, coconuts, and the occasional flying brick at your head.
It’s saying:
Alright, universe, you chaotic genius, I see what you’re doing.
And I’m still here.
I’m still creating.
Gratitude is an action.
It’s getting up and making your bed when your heart feels like melted cheese.
It’s noticing the one beam of sunlight on the wall even when everything else feels grey.
It’s saying thank you to your body for carrying you through another round, even if all you managed today was breathing and blinking.
It’s choosing to orient yourself toward creation, even if creation looks like heating up instant soup and calling it a ritual.
If you want to explore even more ways to turn gratitude into a daily practice that fuels your sovereignty, I explore this more in my article on gratitude HERE.
You can absolutely be in pain and be grateful. I know I have been.
You can be heartbroken and be grateful.
You can be furious, sad, exhausted, lost — and still practice the tiniest spark of gratitude without betraying your own truth.
Because gratitude is not the denial of what is.
Gratitude is the declaration of who you are.
And who you are — if you’re reading this, if you resonate with my world, if you know in your bones that energy shapes reality — is a creatrix.
Not a bystander.
Not a passive receiver of fate.
A participator.
A co-weaver.
A wild, powerful, occasionally disheveled being who still has agency, even in the storm.
A sovereign of your own energy, of your life experience.
And when people bash gratitude as “toxic positivity” or “New Age nonsense,” I get it — I really do.
We’ve all met the spiritually bypassing unicorn who thinks shadow work is optional and boundaries are a myth.
But gratitude, real gratitude, isn’t bypassing.
It’s the opposite:
It’s what keeps you rooted enough to face the truth without losing yourself in it.
I don’t practice gratitude because someone told me to.
I practice it because I’ve lived enough life — enough illness, shock, trauma, plot twists, cosmic slapstick — to know that my energy always shapes my reality.
Not sometimes.
Not when it’s convenient.
Always.
So no, gratitude isn’t a band-aid.
It’s a compass.
It points me back to my power, every single time.
And here’s the part nobody ever says:
You can be on the floor in pieces and still whisper thank you — not because the pain is beautiful, but because you are.
Because even then, you are choosing.
Even then, you are creating.
Even then, you are alive.
Gratitude is not what makes life easier.
It’s what makes you unstoppable.
So here’s the only question worth asking at the end of all this cosmic chaos:
How do you choose to feel today? And are you brave enough to choose it?
Voilà.
I believe that is all for today.
I would be so happy to hear from you.
If this spoke to your heart, I’d love for you to share it with a sister, a friend, a fellow Goddess on the path.
I send, as always, love, light and gratitude.
Isaya
PS1: and yes, it seems every year around thanksgiving, I have some ideas to share about gratitude (lol!)
PS2:If you feel called to step fully into your power, to explore what it really means to be a sovereign creatrix of your own life, my retreats are designed exactly for that. In these immersive experiences, we move beyond theory — we practice, play, and embody the energy that shapes your reality. You’ll leave not just inspired, but equipped to carry your sovereignty, your creativity, and your joy back into every day, no matter what life throws at you.
More about that here: https://isayabelle.com/sacred-retreats
