I say “thank you” every day.
Sometimes out loud. Sometimes quietly in my head while washing dishes or folding laundry or walking to my car.
I know I’m lucky.
I know.

I have love in my life.
A roof over my head.
Opportunities others are still praying for.
I have people who check in. A body that works most days. Food in the fridge. A life that, on paper looks whole.
And still.
This is really fucking hard.

That part. Saying it out loud, feels like a betrayal.
Like I’m being ungrateful. Like I’ve forgotten how far I’ve come.
Like I’m insulting the very things I used to beg the universe for.
And so I catch myself. Softening the truth, dressing it up.
“I’m just tired.”
“It’s just a season.”
“I have nothing to complain about.”

As if struggle requires permission.
As if you have to earn the right to be overwhelmed.
As if having something good means you’re no longer allowed to feel anything hard.
But here’s what I’m learning, slowly:
Gratitude doesn’t cancel out pain.
Joy doesn’t erase exhaustion.
Because both things can be real at the same time.
Gratitude and grief.
Love and loneliness.
Full hands and a tired heart.

And saying this is hard doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten the good.
It just means I’m human.
A human who is grateful.
A human who is overwhelmed.
A human who’s trying to hold both things without feeling guilty for either.

I don’t want to trade lives with anyone.
But some days, I want a pause button.
Some days, I want someone else to carry it all. Even just for an hour.
Some days, the weight of keeping it together feels heavier than whatever blessings are stacked beside it.

And I know perspective matters.
I know others have it worse.
But knowing that doesn’t refill my energy tank. It doesn’t cancel out the stress, or the tears, or the pressure to be fine when I’m unraveling quietly under the surface.

So, here’s my truth, raw and unpolished:
Yes, I am lucky.
Yes, I am grateful.
And yes, this is still really fucking hard.

And maybe that’s okay to say.
Maybe naming it is the first kind of softness I can offer myself.
Maybe the strongest thing I can do today is admit that I’m not strong all the time.
And that doesn’t make me ungrateful.
It just makes me honest.