Do We Deserve Joy Right Now?
Guilt, grief, and the necessity of pleasure in painful times
Let’s be real:
Sometimes joy feels… complicated.
Like a luxury we haven’t earned.
Like a betrayal of those who are suffering.
Like something we’re supposed to postpone until the world gets better.
And yet joy keeps showing up.
A perfect bite of something sweet.
A song that makes your shoulders move.
A spontaneous belly laugh with a friend.
A moment of peace that catches you off guard.
What do we do with that?
Joy Can Feel Wrong When the World Feels Wrong
There’s a kind of silent guilt that comes with being okay, or even happy, while others are not.
We ask ourselves:
Do I deserve this moment?
Am I allowed to feel good right now?
What does it say about me if I’m enjoying my life?
But here’s what I keep learning:
Joy does not erase grief.
Pleasure does not mean you’ve stopped caring.
Beauty is not betrayal.
This Isn’t About Escapism
Let’s make a distinction.
There’s a difference between numbing out and allowing in.
There’s a difference between bypassing pain and choosing to also honor delight.
You are not required to live in constant despair to prove your empathy.
You can rage and rest.
You can grieve and glow.
Joy doesn’t deny reality - it expands it.
Pleasure as a Radical Act
Audre Lorde wrote that caring for herself was an act of political warfare.
adrienne maree brown calls pleasure revolutionary.
Tricia Hersey reminds us that rest is resistance.
In systems that thrive on burnout, despair, and depletion - your aliveness is a threat.
Your joy is a disruption.
Your softness is subversive.
This is not indulgence.
This is strategy.
Joy Doesn’t Need a Justification
You do not need to earn joy.
You do not need to wait for everything to be fixed before you savor your life.
You do not need to apologize for what lights you up.
That doesn’t mean you stop caring. It means you also keep living.
Because if we abandon pleasure, we abandon part of what makes life worth fighting for.
You Deserve Joy Because You Are Alive
Not because you worked hard enough.
Not because you suffered enough.
Not because the world is perfect (it isn’t).
But because you’re here.
Because your senses work.
Because something inside you still knows how to reach for the light.
Let that be enough.
Let that be sacred.
