Brain Tumors, Infidelity, Death… 5 Terrible Things I’m Grateful for Right Now
Gratitude is all the rage. And it should be.
Experts in science, religion, and evolution, agree it’s just plain good for your body and brain to feel grateful. Gratitude grows connectedness and empathy, the only things that matter in the face of trauma.
But that doesn’t mean you have to feel optimistic or happy or like life is fair or like your problems pale in comparison to others so you should “shut up and be grateful for what you have.”
No, you can still be a petty, angry, princess-y asshole who just wants her life to be fucking normal for a change, and still feel gratitude.
Gratefulness is a feeling and an intent, and we can have in our hearts and minds multiple feelings and intentions at any given second.
In the past three years, I’ve found gratitude (sometimes in hindsight) in some places I’ve never expected.
1. I am grateful for infidelity.
That time in 2017 when my husband cheated on me with my daughter’s best friend’s mom.
Newly medicated for generalized anxiety disorder and feeling on top of the world, I was not really expecting this to happen to me.
Finally, I thought, I was “fixed” and our problems would begin to resolve. I was doing GREAT! Everything he’d asked! And then he still fucked someone else? But now I am grateful for his infidelity.
His action unleashed a powerful, emotional, vulnerable, and passionate woman who was trapped inside an emotional round room, where I never could find the corner he kept telling me was there. His infidelity is proof that he (also) wasn’t happy, despite the gaslighting, justifications, and misdirections.
His actions spoke, and I heard: Trust your feelings, woman. This is not only your fault. Neither of you are getting your needs met. You deserve love, there is no shame in that.
2. I am grateful for being partially deaf.
That time in 2017 when I lost all hearing in my left ear.
I’m grateful that I am only deaf in one ear. That I can still hear my daughter’s laugh, my favorite songs, the many, many dad jokes coming my way, and the hum of a coffee shop when I have my laptop out in the world to work.
I live near Gallaudet University, and I am grateful that if I do lose the hearing in my right ear, I will be presented an opportunity to be part of this whole other amazing community.
Losing something means gaining something else because there is no such thing as ending up with nothing. And I sleep soundly.
3. I am grateful for STDs.
That time in 2018 when my cervical lesions wouldn’t go away, I had a hysterectomy.
When I jumped from my marital bed without my spouses’ consent — i.e. the cheated-on became the cheater-on-er — I began chasing a fantasy of escape from what had become my life. I was ashamed to admit I had failed at marriage. Afraid to admit that I was unhappy. Afraid that I couldn’t do life on my own. Ashamed of myself and everything I represented.
I thought I might as well just fuck my way into a new security blanket, and then I got some bad news: pre-non-cancer-cancer of the cervix. Probably caused by being a slut.
I’m grateful for the universe giving me a stern warning: Slow down, woman. The love and security you seek is inside you. Protect yourself so you can still be here to guide your daughter. Be a safe slut.
4. I am grateful for sudden death.
That time in 2018 when my uncle (and close friend) died suddenly at the age of 71 while having breakfast at the pancake house.
The sudden loss of someone who was central to my understanding of the world — a teacher, a mentor, a sage giver of advice — was jarring.
Just months after my husband had moved out after discovering my affair, I was grasping for support and guidance and reassurance from the few people I rely on to keep me from drowning in my pool of shame. Two weeks before we were set to meet up, he’s gone.
He told me the year prior that it was almost time. Virility. Creativity. Health. Drive. All were fading.
He believed in the universal energy that connects us all and was certain that it would all be as it always is. At first, I thought he was such an asshole for leaving me when I needed him the most.
But he left me with a gift: You know the truth, and you wanted me to say it to you. Now you must carry it inside of your mind to hear it. It is time. You are ready.
5. I am grateful for brain tumors.
That time last month when my family came for a visit and my dad was acting all fucked up and loopy and I took him to the ER and he has a brain tumor.
As of this minute, Dad is still in the neuro ICU at Georgetown University. Brain tumors are no one’s fault. You couldn’t drink less or smoke less or exercise more or take fewer risks or do anything to prevent a mass from growing on the back of your head and trying to kill you.
Brain tumors are dispassionate and can’t be taken personally. They are simply a reminder that this minute is important. This hour is important. This person in this room with this offering of love or attention or time or ideas is important.
Of course I am grateful for modern medicine and ancient medicine and optimism and my dad’s incredible, strong spirit. I am also angry at this turn of fortune, angry at this incredibly dangerous and inconsiderate brain tumor. But being angry isn’t helping.
Anger is just fear. Dad is not afraid of dying. I am not afraid of living.
I’ve never been happier, even as I shed tears writing this. Gratitude is sustaining me, and I couldn’t feel more lucky, and thankful, to be living this one life.
