I can already feel the world around us coming to life with Thanksgiving messages of gratitude. Social media filled with curated posts of smiling families, gratitude jars, and reflections on silver linings. There’s a lot of pressure to feel grateful — which only adds to the guilt we feel for the complex emotions we have — in spite of loving our child with everything in our hearts.
For many parents of children with disabilities, the simple truth is that gratitude doesn’t come easy when daily life is hard. Many of us struggle to reconcile grief that comes in unexpected, relentless waves. Attending the traditional Thanksgiving feast can stir up feelings of grief as you hear about the milestones that cousins your child’s age are experiencing – getting a driver’s license or college acceptance letters – or that others are planning weddings or having children of their own. Can you help but quietly think about the things that will never be?
If you’re feeling overwhelmed, exhausted, or already disconnected this Thanksgiving season, you are not alone. You’re doing the best you can in circumstances that others will never understand. And it’s just too exhausting to try and explain it to anyone.
So here’s your permission slip:
You do not have to feel grateful this Thanksgiving.
You do not have to write a list, post a photo, or find the silver lining in a year that may have been exhausting, isolating, or just plain hard.
You are allowed to feel what you feel.
Maybe this year brought new diagnoses, returning IEP battles, or new layers of grief. Maybe you’re navigating behaviors that leave you depleted, or systems that don’t see your child clearly. Maybe you’re just tired – bone-deep tired – and the idea of “thankfulness” feels like one more thing to do.
You are not ungrateful.
You are surviving.
You are showing up.
You are doing the impossible, every single day.
Gratitude is not a moral obligation. It’s not a measure of your worth or your love for your child. It’s not a requirement for being a “good parent.” If it comes naturally, welcome it. If it doesn’t, let it go. Remember that you can also postpone your gratitude and enjoy it when it shows up in small, unexpected ways.
This Thanksgiving, maybe your only goal is to rest. Or to cry. Or to say no to the gathering that feels too loud, too complicated, too much. Protect your peace. Resist the urge to explain your actions. Maybe your act of gratitude is to thank yourself and give yourself permission to feel whatever you feel.
We see you. We honor your truth. And we’re grateful—for your honesty, your resilience, and your fierce, quiet love.
With respect and solidarity – KC