There is a strange place in post-traumatic growth–after most of the hard work is done–that gratitude may start to settle into. Not gratitude just for having survived it. Or, having recovered from it. Gratitude for having experienced it. That emotion sitting in that way is jarring when it first comes. There isn’t a language for it. We’re so content to just be okay, we never anticipated the possibility of finding deep utility in all of it.
Go With That 