Every time I open my phone, I’m met with headlines that feel heavier than the last: wars, political division, natural disasters, injustice, pain. Add to that the personal struggles of daily life—raising kids, paying bills, navigating relationships, managing our own mental health—and it’s easy to feel weighed down by it all.
Maybe you’ve felt it too: that sense of helplessness, of wondering if it’s even possible to hold onto happiness when the world feels so broken.
You can choose this truth: that joy doesn’t disappear just because times are hard. It may feel buried under the noise and chaos, but it’s still there, waiting to be noticed, nurtured, and held. Finding happiness in hard times isn’t about ignoring pain or pretending everything’s okay—it’s about learning the art of holding onto joy as both an anchor and a compass.
Redefining Happiness: It’s Not About Perfection
For so long, we’ve been sold a version of happiness that feels like a finish line: if we have the right job, the perfect house, the picture-perfect family, then we’ll finally be happy. But that version of happiness is like precious china—it breaks the second life throws us curveballs (and life always does).
Happiness in a broken world isn’t about reaching perfection; it’s about collecting moments. It’s about allowing yourself to savor a laugh, a hug, a sunrise—even while hard things still exist. And the reality is: hard things will always exist.
Think of happiness less as a destination and more as a series of small sparks that light up the path, even when the road is rough. Even when the path is filled with needle-like thorns.
The Power of Gratitude in the Ordinary
One of the simplest, yet most profound, ways to hold onto joy is through gratitude. Not the Pinterest-perfect gratitude list, but the kind that’s raw and real.
Gratitude for the smell of coffee brewing in the morning.
Gratitude for the way your child’s laughter cuts through a stressful day.
Gratitude for a stranger holding the door open when your arms are full.
When the world feels overwhelming, gratitude grounds us. It reminds us that even in the middle of chaos, goodness exists. The practice doesn’t erase the hard stuff, but it balances it. Gratitude is proof that beauty and brokenness can coexist.
Protecting Your Energy: Boundaries with Negativity
Joy is harder to hold onto when you’re constantly bombarded by negativity. The truth is, we’re not designed to carry the weight of the entire world every single day.
That’s why boundaries matter.
Limit doomscrolling. Set a time boundary for when and how you consume the news. Curate your feeds. Follow accounts that uplift, inspire, and remind you of the good in the world. Choose your conversations. Not every argument is worth your energy; not every person gets access to your peace.
Protecting your energy isn’t selfish—it’s necessary. When you preserve your joy, you have more of yourself to give to the people and causes that truly matter.
Connection: Joy in Relationships
In dark times, connection is one of the greatest lifelines we have. Humans are wired for relationship, and joy often grows in the soil of togetherness.
Call a friend and laugh over something silly. Share a meal with family without phones at the table. Go for a walk with someone you love and notice how conversation flows more easily when you’re moving.
Even brief connections with strangers—a smile, a kind word, a shared laugh in the grocery store—can brighten the day. Connection reminds us we’re not alone, and that in itself is joy.
Create Joy: The Healing Power of Creativity
Joy isn’t just something you stumble upon; it’s something you can create. Creative expression—whether through writing, painting, dancing, gardening, or even cooking—gives your soul a release valve.
You don’t need to be “good” at it. You don’t need an audience. Creativity is joy made tangible. It takes what’s inside—your feelings, your fears, your hope—and turns it into something beautiful.
So write the poem, sing off-key in the kitchen, bake the cookies, doodle in the margins. The world may be heavy, but creativity makes it lighter.
Acts of Kindness: Joy Shared is Joy Multiplied
Here’s the paradox: sometimes the best way to find joy is to give it away. Acts of kindness—big or small—shift your perspective outward. They remind you that even in brokenness, goodness is alive and well.
Pay for someone’s coffee. Send a note to a friend just because. Volunteer for a cause close to your heart. Offer your time, your listening ear, your presence.
Kindness doesn’t just help the receiver—it transforms the giver. It reawakens hope and reminds you that you are part of the solution, not just a bystander to the world’s problems.
Holding Both: Joy and Pain Can Coexist
One of the greatest misconceptions about happiness is that it requires the absence of pain. But real joy is more resilient than that.
It’s possible to be grieving and still laugh.
It’s possible to be worried and still notice beauty.
It’s possible to feel the weight of the world and still choose moments of light.
Joy doesn’t deny pain—it defies it. It says, “You may be here, but you don’t get to have the final word.”
My Own Anchor
I’ll be honest—there are days I feel the heaviness pressing in. As a mom, I think about the kind of world my children are inheriting. As a woman, I feel the exhaustion of navigating so many competing roles. And as a human, I sometimes wonder if the small joys even matter.
But then I remember: joy is what carries us.
I think of the times I’ve laughed so hard with my kids that my stomach hurt. I think of the mornings when the sun painted the sky in colors too beautiful to ignore. I think of the quiet moments—tea in hand, deep breath taken—when I chose to be present.
Those moments matter. They are what make the brokenness bearable. They are what remind me not to give up.
Choosing Joy is an Act of Defiance
In a world that thrives on outrage, choosing joy is radical. It’s a rebellion against despair. It’s saying, “I will not let the darkness steal every ounce of my light.”
Joy isn’t always loud. Sometimes it’s subtle, like a candle flickering in a dark room. But even a small flame can push back the night.
When we choose joy, we don’t just survive—we model for our children, our communities, and ourselves that life is still worth celebrating, even when it’s hard.
Final Thought: Have you Been Struggling?
If you’ve been struggling to find happiness in these times, know this: you’re not alone. The world is heavy, but so are you. You carry resilience, love, and the ability to see light where others see only shadow.
Start small. Notice one moment of joy today. Hold it. Let it remind you that brokenness isn’t the whole story.
Because the art of holding onto joy isn’t about ignoring the world’s pain—it’s about refusing to let it rob you of hope.
A Note From My Heart
This message is one I live and breathe as a mom, as a woman, as someone navigating this broken world right alongside you. It’s also at the core of my book, Mom Take Center Stage—a reminder that reclaiming your joy and your voice matters, not just for you but for your family and your future. If you’re looking for deeper encouragement, strategies, and stories to help you step into your own light, you can order the book here.
