From “I Have To” to “I Get To”: Finding Gratitude When Life Is Hard

Are you a victim of your life?

Is your life happening to you?

Or are you the director of your life—the main character in your own one-of-a-kind Choose Your Own Adventure?

I’ve been thinking about these questions a lot lately.

Because right now, life is asking a lot of me.

I am in the process of adopting my grandson. I recently lost my beloved dog. And now, my dad is dying.

There is grief here.

There is uncertainty.

There is a lot of responsibility.

There are days when life feels incredibly heavy.

And I want to be really clear: I am not writing this from some mountaintop of perfect peace, telling you to simply be grateful and everything will magically feel better.

That’s not how this works.

Sometimes life is fucking hard.

Sometimes things happen that we would never have chosen.

Sometimes we don't get to change the circumstances.

But I am discovering, again and again, that I do get to choose how I meet them.

And one of the practices that has been helping me stay grounded through this season is remarkably simple:

Gratitude.

Every day, I write down ten things I am grateful for.

Not because everything is okay.

(Because everything isn't okay.)

But because even in the middle of the hard, there is still beauty here.

There is still love here.

There is still life here.

And I don't want to miss it.

I spent a lot of years living in resentment.

There was a long list of things I had to do.

I had to cook dinner.

I had to do the dishes.

I had to put the kids to bed.

I had to work on this project.

I had to spend time with my husband.

I had to take care of everyone.

I had to keep all the balls in the air.

And underneath all those “I have tos” was a deeper story:

My life is a burden I have to carry.

It becomes very easy, when we're living from that place, to start looking outside ourselves for the thing that needs to change before we can finally be happy.

I'd be happier if my husband would change.

I'd be happier if my kids behaved differently.

I'd be happier if I had more money.

I'd be happier if I had more help.

I'd be happier if the world weren't so screwed up.

I'd be happier when I finally get the thing, accomplish the thing, fix the thing, or become the thing.

And so we wait.

We put our happiness somewhere in the future.

When this happens, then I'll be okay.

But what if we didn't have to wait?

What if there was another way to relate to the life we are already living?

One of the simplest mindset shifts I've found is changing:

“I have to…”

into:

“I get to…”

It sounds tiny.

But it can change the entire emotional landscape of an experience.

I don't have to cook dinner.

I get to nourish the people I love.

I don't have to raise these children.

I get to witness these extraordinary little humans becoming themselves.

I don't have to hold space for someone else's difficult emotions.

I get to practice love, boundaries, compassion and emotional maturity inside my relationships.

And when life gets really hard?

I don't have to pretend that I like what's happening.

But I can ask:

What do I get to do with this?

I get to walk through this difficult season.

I get to learn more about myself.

I get to discover what I'm capable of.

I get to love my grandson through a major transition in his life.

I get to be here with my dad during the final chapter of his life.

I got to love my dog deeply enough that losing him hurts this much.

And that last one matters.

Because grief is evidence of love.

Another thing I've become very aware of is how often we postpone our lives.

If I get this promotion, then I'll be happy.

If my marriage gets better, then I'll relax.

If my kids become more independent, then I'll have time for myself.

If we have more money, then I'll feel secure.

If this difficult season ends, then I'll finally be able to breathe.

But what if the future never arrives exactly the way we imagined it?

What if there is always another thing?

Another responsibility.

Another challenge.

Another season.

What if our peace cannot depend entirely on circumstances becoming exactly what we want them to be?

This doesn't mean we stop creating change.

It doesn't mean we stop setting goals, leaving unhealthy situations, asking for help, or building the lives we want.

Agency and acceptance can coexist.

We can change what we can change while learning to be present with what we cannot.

There are so many things in life we don't get to choose.

We don't choose every circumstance.

We don't choose other people's behavior.

We don't choose when someone we love dies.

We don't choose every challenge that lands on our doorstep.

But there is still a place where our agency lives.

In our attention.

In our perspective.

In our response.

In the meaning we make.

In the next small choice.

And sometimes agency doesn't look like changing your whole life.

Sometimes it looks like sitting down at the end of a difficult day and writing:

Ten things I'm grateful for.

Sometimes it looks like catching yourself saying:

“I have to…”

and gently remembering:

“I get to.”

Sometimes it looks like taking a breath and realizing:

This is not the life I would have chosen.

But it is the life I am living.

And I want to be here for it.

I want to actually experience it.

I want to notice the little things.

I want to love the people I love while they're here.

I want to savor the ordinary moments.

I want to be awake for my own life.

Because this life is not guaranteed to be easy.

But it is extraordinarily precious.

And even here—

especially here—

I get to be alive.

A Practice for This Week

For the next seven days, try this:

1. Catch the “I have to.”

Every time you notice yourself saying it, pause.

Ask:

“Can I see this as something I get to do?”

Not because you should feel grateful.

But simply to experiment with another perspective.

2. Write down ten things you're grateful for every day.

They don't have to be profound.

Tiny counts.

Actually feel each one for a few seconds.

3. When you catch yourself living in “if/then,” come back to now.

Ask:

“What is beautiful, meaningful, nourishing or available to me right now?”

And then receive it.

Because your life isn't waiting for the perfect circumstances to begin.

This is it.

This messy, beautiful, heartbreaking, hilarious, inconvenient, extraordinary life.

And we don't have to love every chapter.

But we can learn to be grateful that we're here to read it.