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Gratitude blog

The Message You Never Sent

Most of us have someone. A teacher who said exactly the right thing at exactly the right moment. A friend who showed up when they did not have to. A parent, a colleague, a neighbour — someone whose quiet presence or single act left a mark we still carry. We think about them sometimes. We mean to say something. And then the day moves on, and we do not.

It is not indifference that stops us. It is something closer to awkwardness — a worry that it will seem strange, or too much, or that the moment has passed. So we keep the gratitude to ourselves, tucked away, and the person on the other end never knows.

What is interesting is that this gap — between feeling grateful and actually saying so — turns out to be far wider than it needs to be, and far more costly than we realise.

Researchers Amit Kumar and Nicholas Epley have spent years studying what happens when people express gratitude directly to someone who matters to them. In a 2023 study published in Psychological Science, they found that people consistently and significantly underestimate how much a message of appreciation means to the person who receives it. The writers worried their words would seem inadequate or awkward. The recipients felt genuinely moved. The gap between how the expressor imagined it would land and how it actually landed was, in the researchers’ own framing, surprisingly large. We are, it turns out, much worse at predicting the value of our own kindness than we think. (Kumar & Epley, 2018)

This matters because the thing that holds most of us back is precisely that miscalculation. We tell ourselves the message is not good enough, not timely enough, not necessary. We assume the other person probably knows. Kumar and Epley’s research suggests they very often do not — or at least, not in the way that hearing it directly would allow them to.

There is also something that happens to the person doing the expressing. Martin Seligman, one of the founders of positive psychology, included a “gratitude visit” in a landmark 2005 study — asking participants to write and personally deliver a letter of thanks to someone who had never been properly thanked. The effect on wellbeing was among the strongest of any intervention tested, with measurable impact lasting up to a month. (Seligman et al., 2005) The act of articulating what someone has meant to you, it seems, does something for the person articulating it — not just the one receiving it.

What that something is, exactly, is worth sitting with. Putting gratitude into words requires us to get specific. It is not enough to feel vaguely thankful — to send a message, you have to think about what this person did, whyit mattered, how it has stayed with you. That specificity is itself a kind of reflection. In naming what someone gave us, we also learn something about what we value, what we needed, and what has shaped us.

That moment of clarity — before the message is even written — is often where the real feeling lives. Not in the sending, but in the remembering. In the pause where you bring someone fully to mind and recognise, perhaps more consciously than you have in a while, what they mean to you.

There is a broader context worth naming here. Julianne Holt-Lunstad, a researcher at Brigham Young University, has produced some of the most cited work on social connection and health, finding that the quality of our relationships is one of the strongest predictors of long-term wellbeing — comparable in significance to more commonly discussed health factors. (Holt-Lunstad et al., 2015) We are not designed to carry our lives entirely inward. Connection — even in small, quiet expressions — is not a luxury. It is part of what keeps us well.

A short message to someone who has mattered to you is, in one sense, a small thing. In another sense, it is a thread in something much larger — a reminder that we exist in relation to other people, that those relationships have shaped us, and that saying so out loud is not embarrassing. It is honest.

My Fyrst is built on the idea that emotions are signals — not performances, not problems to manage, but information worth paying attention to. Ancient Indian philosophy mapped human emotional experience through nine distinct flavours, each one considered worthy of recognition in its own right. The feeling that surfaces when you think about someone who has genuinely mattered to you — that particular warmth, that mix of tenderness and recognition — sits close to what that tradition calls Śṛṅgāra: love and connection, in its quietest and most enduring form. Though what arrives for you may carry its own quality entirely. Emotions, as anyone who has paid close attention to them knows, rarely arrive exactly as expected.

The person you are thinking of right now — and there is probably someone — may have no idea how much that moment meant to you. The message does not have to be long or perfectly worded. It just has to be true.

That is usually enough.


Further listening

If you’d like to go deeper on what the research actually says about connection and gratitude, these two talks are worth your time.

My Fyrst is a personal practice, not therapy or clinical support. If you are going through a difficult time, please speak with a qualified mental health professional.