This week, we’re turning our hearts toward one of the most powerful healing practices: gratitude. Gratitude is more than just saying “thank you.” It’s a mindset, a way of noticing what is rather than what’s missing. It helps us shift from survival to presence, from scarcity to abundance, and from fear to trust. When practiced consistently, gratitude can rewire our brain, strengthen our relationships, reduce stress, and bring us closer to joy—even when life is hard. 💬 Discussion Focus - What are you grateful for that didn’t feel like a gift at the time? - How can gratitude become a daily habit instead of a seasonal thought? - What does gratitude look like when life feels overwhelming? 📝 This Week’s Journal Prompts - Today, I’m thankful for… - Someone who changed my life (and why): - A challenge I’ve grown from is: - My gratitude list (name 5 small or big things): ✨ Mindfulness Practice: Gratitude Grounding Take 3 deep breaths. Name one thing you can see, touch, hear, and feel that you’re grateful for in this moment. Let it anchor you in the now. 📚 Helpful Resources - 🎧 Podcast: The Science of Gratitude – NPR - 📖 Article: How Gratitude Changes You and Your Brain – Greater Good Magazine - 📺 Video: The Power of Gratitude | Brene Brown 👯‍♀️ This Community Is Your Circle Drop your journal reflections or a gratitude note in the Community Chat. Tag a sister and let her know you appreciate her! 💬 Reminder: Walk-ins are welcome to join our in-person group on Tuesdays, 10 AM–12 PM at the O’Dell Women’s Center in Springfield. Free parking available on Tyler Street! 📢 Bonus: This is a Union Capital Club, so joining live sessions (virtual or in person) earns you points! Sign up for Union Capital here and list Lourdes B as your Network Coordinator.

It has taken me over a week to process... There’s a kind of pain we don’t talk about enough — the pain of needing someone and realizing they’re not there. The pain of struggling mentally, and emotionally…and discovering that the people you once called “friend” don’t even think to check in. It isn’t loud. It isn’t dramatic. It’s quiet, sharp, and deeply personal. It sits in your chest like a weight you can’t put down. This Thanksgiving was one of the hardest days I’ve had in a long time. I planned a gathering — food cooked, car packed, heart open — ready to spend the holiday with someone I thought cared. But everything fell apart. The friend I was waiting for seemed uninterested, distracted, or simply unwilling to show up. Her suggestion that I should just eat at home felt like a gentle dismissal, a soft way of stepping back without saying the words. But I felt it. Every piece of it. I sat there in the kitchen, food getting cold, kids waiting, heart breaking… realizing that yet again, I was trying to hold everything together for everyone. I cried. I got angry. I felt that familiar ache of being disappointed by someone I trusted. And after all that, I told my kids, “Take the food out of the car.” We ate at home — the very thing I planned so hard to avoid because I knew what would come next: everyone leaving right after they ate. And that’s exactly what happened. What hurt even more wasn’t just Thanksgiving falling apart — it was the silence afterward. A week passed. No call. No text. No “Are you okay?” Nothing. And that silence was louder than any argument, louder than any goodbye. It told me everything I didn’t want to admit: I am not a priority in her life. Maybe I never was. And that’s the part people don’t talk about — grieving the living. Losing a friend who’s still here can hurt even more than losing someone who has passed. Because with living people, you feel the sting of rejection. You feel the questions: Was I not enough? Did I do something wrong? Did they outgrow me? Were they ever really my friends? You replay everything, trying to understand why the loyalty, love, and support you gave weren’t returned.