I used to be fun. In the olden days, around the end of Reagan’s first term, I developed a knack for fun. I became fun’s dedicated student. While my peers busied themselves with banking, making a name for themselves in Hollywood, or finding a cure for cancer, I was devoted to fun. I had fun like it was my full-time job, pretty much right through to the end of the Clinton administration.

In the olden days, we didn’t have social media or dating apps. If we wanted gossip, friends, or we wanted to date, like ever, we couldn’t swipe or scroll in the privacy of our bathrooms. We had to earn our social lives. We had to cram into bars, spill beers, and shout over music. Back then, the night before Thanksgiving was the highest of holidays. We’d show up at the bar and pile our winter coats onto a single barstool. Of course, no one ever left the bar wearing the same coat they arrived in. It would take the entirety of Thanksgiving break to sort out the coat situation, but that was part of the fun ~ driving around, exchanging coats, and accidentally having more fun. Thanksgiving morning, everyone under a certain age woke up wreaking of poor choices. We were grateful.

Eventually, I traded in fun for footie pajamas. Fun couldn’t hold a candle to the love I felt for my children. I was grateful even when I stepped on a Lego in my kitchen as I prepared Thanksgiving dinner. And also when I stepped on a Lego as I set the dining room table for Thanksgiving dinner. My heart was full.

Thanksgiving tends to heighten our gratitude. There is nothing like seeing your grown and flown child rock up for Thanksgiving in desperate need of a haircut and hugs. I find, nothing, nothing, can make me more grateful than celebrating Thanksgiving during a non-election year. No amount of gratitude seems to make people, politics, and wine play nice at the dinner table.

Having said all that, here’s a truth bomb: Most of us do gratitude all wrong. If I had a dollar every time a client said to me, ‘I should be grateful,’ or ‘They should be grateful,’ or ‘I try to be grateful, but,’ I’d have my very own phallic-shaped rocket. That isn’t gratitude. That’s shame dressed in pretty clothes. It’s pop culture’s version of gratitude and it’s dangerous because it keeps us small, ashamed, resentful, and feeling unworthy.

Pop culture tells us if we have a beautiful family, a lovely home, and stainless steel appliances, we have enough. To want for more is shameful. Too often people, mostly women, silence themselves for fear of being thought of as ungrateful. We gratitude journal every night and hang the Grateful sign in the kitchen and wonder why ‘being grateful’ isn’t making us happier. Then we berate our kids about how they should be grateful. Real gratitude doesn’t ‘should’ on anyone; real gratitude doesn’t have ulterior motives.

Real gratitude is a deep and moving sense of wonder, thankfulness, and appreciation for life. Recognizing and savoring the gifts in our lives is profoundly strengthening. Developing a gratitude practice adds to our buoyancy. Real gratitude reduces anxiety and fear. Being grateful strengthens us in the face of overwhelming challenges. It can help us survive hopelessness. Developing deep gratitude, real gratitude, is a learnable skill and it’s cheap and cheerful. It only requires three steps: 1. Notice 2. Savor 3. Give thanks. That’s it.

From the bottom of my very full heart, Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours.

For more information check out T-Ann’s websites: t-annpierce.com and theconfidencetriangle.com. She’s on Insta @tannpiercecoaching and @the.confidence.triangle. Or stop by her office at Flotstone in Lake Bluff. Pumpkin pie is always welcome.