Thanksgiving was a tough one for my family this year. Our dog was put to sleep a couple of nights before. My father-in-law passed away last month. My father has terminal cancer. And the list goes on from there. Sounds like I had more than enough justification to consume an entire pecan pie along with the stuffing and marshmallow-smothered sweet potatoes. In the past, I probably would have done just that. I would have let myself get caught up in the "woe is me -- I so deserve to comfort myself with anything and everything" and I would have fallen into a downward spiral of sugar and despair. But I didn't do that this time.

Instead, I felt my feelings and just enjoyed my food.

Much to my own surprise, I was and still am feeling quite grateful. Grateful for all that I have, grateful for the worries that I don't have and unbelievably grateful that I can actually FEEL my feelings.

I couldn't always do this so well. I was taught to be strong and strong meant not showing your pain. Strong meant holding it together. Somewhere along the road to strong-ness I stopped feeling some of my feelings and buried them in comfort food or just about anything else that could distract me from the pain. Strong served me well until strong ended up eventually breaking me down...

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