I’ll be the first to admit, some of the phrases former alcoholics use can be pretty cringe-worthy. “Trudge the happy road”, “Sobriety is a gift”, “One day at a time”.  These platitudes got under my skin in early sobriety.  I found the distillation of such a difficult, important, and painful process undermining.  The one that bothered me most, though, had to be “gratitude”.

“Yes,” I thought, “I get it. I have a car, somewhere to live, that’s awesome. I have some good people around me, that’s awesome too. Why do I suddenly have to become someone that marvels at the freaking trees to be a good sober person?”

Gratitude has become somewhat of a fluffy, hashtag-worthy word- something describing photos of sunsets, beaches, yoga poses or overused quoteables on Instagram.  It means many different things to many different people, but I’m here to share what it means to me.

Before I got sober, I was irresponsible with both myself and those around me- coworkers, friends, family members- nothing was sacred and I chased my own satisfaction above everything else.  When I expected things to be bad, they typically were- no surprise there.  When things went well, I convinced myself that I had deserved it- that it was long overdue, that I was somehow owed this.  Most of the time, anything good that happened to me felt like too little too late, and was certainly never enough.  Eerily similar to my pattern of drinking, each time I saw a little piece of the “good life”, I became obsessed with wondering and waiting for when the next piece would show up, with little to no regard for the good things already around me.

I understand now that true gratitude is impossible on a sinking ship.  When the water is rushing in around you, and someone comes along with a teacup to help you bail water- it’s pretty damn difficult to be grateful for it.

Now, gratitude has a different meaning that I can understand more fully.  Gratitude is true awe at both the expected and unexpected.  It’s appreciating that you are not owed anything by anyone but yourself.  It is quickly recognizing an uptick in your day and pausing in that moment for just a fraction of a second.

Gratitude is equal parts what it is, and what it is not.  Gratitude is not smug.  It doesn’t look at someone opening a door for you and say, “About time, someone with some manners.” It is not greedy.  It does not receive a compliment and think “Wow, that’s it?”  It’s not easy to get out of these habits.  Gratitude has taken practice for me, like learning a new language, but it’s truly changed the way I look at the world and those people around me.

I’m celebrating two years sober today.  My sponsor will be presenting me with my chip tonight, and my fiancé gifted me breakfast and flowers this morning. For these things, and for many others, I’m grateful.  Not because I feel that these are things I was owed or deserved, but because I feel that they are a supplement to my new life off of the sinking ship and on dry land.

Gratitude always starts small, but it can grow under the right circumstances.  It doesn’t have to be big, loud, or Instagram worthy- the only thing it needs to be is your own.