A Good Life Doesn’t Always Feel Good
The wellness world has a problem with complicated feelings.
It wants you always grateful. Optimized. Glowing. It has journaling prompts and morning or bedtime routines for everything. What it doesn’t have is a framework for feeling sad and good at the same time. For doing well emotionally and still getting ambushed by a memory at 11 pm.
This November marks two years since I lost my husband. Two years ago, he got sick and died nine weeks later. Very rude of him, honestly. And I am not writing this from a place of crisis — I’m writing it from a place of full, complicated, sometimes-wonderful, sometimes-gut-wrenching aliveness. That distinction matters.
Gratitude Is Real Medicine. Appreciation Is Even Stronger.
I’ve been teaching the difference between gratitude and appreciation for years, because they are not the same thing and we keep using them like they are.
Gratitude is thankfulness. You can schedule it, journal it, and build a habit around it. Write down three things you’re grateful for before bed. Send a thank-you note. These aren’t small things—research backs them up. Studies out of UC Davis link gratitude practices to lower blood pressure, lower cortisol, and less anxiety and depression. Gratitude is real medicine.
Appreciation goes further.
Think about what the word means in financial terms—when an asset appreciates, it increases in value. The same is true emotionally.
Appreciation isn’t just noticing the good. It’s actively increasing its value in your life. You can cultivate it, the same way you cultivate gratitude—but when you do, you get more. The HeartMath Institute has documented for decades how the physical feeling of appreciation—the thought leading to the actual felt sense of it—directly improves heart rate variability, one of our best markers of cardiac health. More than gratitude alone. The asset appreciates.
And grief, it turns out, has a way of forcing appreciation whether you’re ready for it or not.
The Shot Glasses
A few months before my husband got sick, I took a trip to England. I brought home a little set of two shot glasses — one said “King,” one said “Queen.” I remember him smiling when I showed him.
They’re still right where I put them when I got home. On a shelf in my family room, alongside framed prints from Cape Town—where he was from—that we brought back from a trip we took together. Two photos nearby, not prominently displayed, but there. One of the two of us at a beach photo shoot. One of him with his granddaughter, taken when she visited while he was sick.
I don’t see them every moment. Only in the quiet ones, when I sweep my gaze across the room and land on all the pieces of the life we built together.
That’s year two. The acute pain does heal—and I want to say that clearly, because I know women who are in year one right now and need to hear it. The pain can heal. But the sadness doesn’t leave permanently. It just stops being constant.
This new intermittent version is, in some ways, harder to explain. You’re fine, and then a quiet moment in your own family room reminds you of everything, and there’s no warning and no logic to it.
That’s not a failure to heal. That’s just what love looks like after loss.
Grief Is Not Only About Death
On my podcast, I have a recurring segment called Midlife Plot Twist. I chose that name deliberately—because grief in midlife is not just about losing a person. It’s about all the losses that accumulate quietly and don’t get a funeral.
The body you used to have. The sleep you used to count on. A career that shifted in a direction you didn’t choose. Children who grew up and now need you differently. Parents who now need you in ways you didn’t expect. A marriage that ended. A version of yourself you can’t quite regain.
These are real losses. They deserve to be named. And they all ask the same thing: Can you grieve what’s gone while still appreciating what’s here?
Most of us were never taught how. We were taught to stay positive, count our blessings, and keep moving. Which is fine for a Tuesday. It is not a complete life philosophy. And it’s worth knowing: chronic grief and chronic stress drive cortisol, which disrupts sleep, weight, mood, and immunity. Taking care of your biology matters. So does taking care of what’s breaking your heart. Both. Always both.
Moving Forward Is Not the Same as Leaving Behind
I want to talk about something I’ve been open about lately—dating. Recently, a clip from my podcast Hotness (about sex and desire) went viral. Apparently, women in midlife talking honestly about what they actually want and need is enough to stop people’s scroll. Good. It should be.
Here’s what I’ve learned: I have met great people. And “moving forward” is not the same as “leaving behind.” You can be genuinely present with someone new and still miss what was specific and irreplaceable about one person. That’s not a contradiction.
Midlife women are not taught this. We’re usually taught myths like “be strong,” “replace the loss,” or “just get over it.”
The real version — healed and still sad sometimes, open and still missing something specific — doesn’t fit a clean narrative. But it’s the true one.
What a Good Life Actually Looks Like Up Close
Full. Complicated. Sometimes wonderful and sad in the same hour.
The women I work with spend so much energy trying to feel better—better hormones, better sleep, better mood. I’m with them on all of it. Getting your biology right is foundational.
I also want them to know: feeling your best is not the same as feeling good every moment. A good life has texture. Grief and gratitude exist in the same body. So do joy and loss, appreciation for what’s in front of you and sadness for what isn’t anymore.
Let all of it count.
The Real Appreciation Practice
Stop waiting to feel grateful only when you feel great. Start noticing—and actually feeling—whatever you feel.
The sadness that catches you in a quiet moment isn’t the opposite of appreciation. It’s proof that something mattered.
That’s not a bad life.
That’s a good one.
Dr. Liz Lyster, a Board-Certified OB/GYN with over 35 years of experience, is passionate about helping women and men in midlife boost their energy, balance their hormones, and achieve optimal health. A bestselling author, mom to two grown sons, world traveler, and new widow, Dr. Liz helps people—both in person and online— feel their best so they can do their best. Something you reclaim.
“Gratitude and grief aren’t opposites. They live in the same body, sometimes the same hour. A good life isn’t one without loss in it—it’s one where loss and appreciation both count.”
– Dr. Liz Lyster
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