Gratitude, Healing, and the Trauma-Sensitive Approach
As we gather this holiday season, you’ll hear lots of messages about gratitude — “Give thanks,” “Count your blessings,” “What are you grateful for?” While these messages can feel warm and well-meaning, the truth is: for many who have lived with trauma, the call to “be grateful” can land heavy.
At our trauma-informed music school, our goal isn’t to rush gratitude. It’s to hold space for whatever is true, to build safety, and to invite healing — not pressure. Here’s how we think about gratitude through a trauma-sensitive lens.
What Gratitude Is and Isn’t
Gratitude can mean appreciation, a quiet recognize of something good, a small “thank you” to yourself or someone else. But it isn’t:
A demand to feel cheerful, especially when you’re carrying heavy memories.
A requirement to turn your pain into polished positivity.
A reason to dismiss what happened, or bypass your healing process.
If you’ve experienced trauma, you might find the standard “gratitude list” exercise triggering — especially if your family of origin or past relationships cause pain instead of comfort. That’s okay. You are not wrong for not feeling “grateful” in the expected way.
A Trauma-Sensitive Approach to Gratitude
So what does “doing gratitude differently” look like when we’re working from a place of safety, regulation, healing and authentic connection?
1. Start with safety.
Before pushing to identify “what I’m grateful for,” check in: Am I feeling relatively grounded? Can I name one sense (e.g., “I hear the hum of my child’s music,” or “I feel the weight of this seat beneath me”)? That small check-in can stabilize the body and nervous system.
2. Respect timing and pacing.
Gratitude doesn’t have to happen in a big way. For some of us, it might begin as: “I’m grateful I made this appointment,” “I’m grateful the music teacher showed up,” or simply “I’m grateful to be alive today.” These are valid. These are powerful.
3. Offer choice, not pressure.
Invite the question “What’s one thing I notice that feels okay today?” rather than “What are you grateful for?” This subtle shift offers space rather than demands transformation. It honors your experience.
4. Use micro-moments and music as anchors.
Because we’re a music school, we know the power of a single note, a chord, a rhythm. Gratitude might show up in:
The moment a child reaches a new note.
Hearing someone say your name with kindness.
The breath between phrases in a song.
These small musical moments can be more accessible than grand declarations.
5. Acknowledge the full spectrum of feelings.
Gratitude can—and often does—coexist with grief, anger, numbness, relief, hope, doubt. Saying “I’m grateful for X” doesn’t mean you are ignoring what you lost or what you fear. It means giving yourself permission to hold more than one truth at once.
Putting It Into Practice at Home or in Class
Start with a 30-second “sound check” together: pause, listen to the room, notice one musical or ambient sound.
Prompt: “What’s one tiny thing I noticed today that made my nervous system ease just a little?”
Affirm: “I don’t have to fix everything. Not today. I just notice one thing.”
Option: After the music exercise or rehearsal, ask: “Did I feel a shift? What helped?” No expectation to respond—just invitation.
At dinner or class break: Offer a “pause” instead of “share something you’re thankful for.” The pause itself is meaningful.
Why This Matters
Trauma lives in the body. It shows up as tension, hypervigilance, dissociation, shut-down. Gratitude practices that ignore the body—or rush the mind—can inadvertently trigger more tension or shame (“I should feel thankful… why don’t I?”).
By adopting a trauma-sensitive approach we:
Protect the nervous system.
Honour lived experience.
Foster authentic connection.
Anchor gratitude in being rather than performing.
For our students and families, this means the key is not to force joy or thanksgiving. The key is connection: the key is safety. The key is music. The key is being seen and heard—even when the feelings are mixed.
