We experience grief for much of our lives, even when we don’t recognize it as grief.
Think about it. We experience a little grief when our favorite childhood toy breaks, when we lose something important, or even when we misplace our keys and become frustrated. These moments may seem insignificant in the grand scheme of life, but they represent something we’ve lost, even if only temporarily.
As we grow older, grief takes on a different meaning. It becomes more complicated and, at times, more difficult to understand. We experience it when we lose loved ones, when relationships end, when friendships fade, or when life doesn’t turn out the way we imagined.
But one thing I’ve come to recognize is that grief is not linear, and it is rarely something we simply get over.
Grief has a way of changing us. Sometimes it’s obvious. Other times, it’s subtle. It can change how we see the world, how we interact with others, how we approach relationships, and even how we see ourselves. We may become more guarded, more reflective, or less willing to let people get close to us. Sometimes, we don’t even realize how much we’ve changed until we look back and recognize the person we used to be.
What’s particularly interesting about grief is that our default response is often to ignore it.
We convince ourselves that we’re fine. We keep going to work, maintain our relationships, fulfill our responsibilities, and carry on with our daily lives. We bury ourselves in distractions, convince ourselves that time will heal everything, or simply avoid discussing what hurts.
Sometimes, we become so accustomed to functioning with our grief that we forget we’re even carrying it. But ignoring grief doesn’t mean it disappears. It can resurface when we least expect it. A familiar song, a particular smell, a place we once visited, or even an ordinary conversation can bring back emotions we thought we’d left behind.
That’s the complicated nature of grief. We can feel as though we’ve made peace with something one day and find ourselves struggling with it all over again the next.
And that’s okay.
Grief doesn’t follow a schedule. It doesn’t have a predetermined timeline, nor does it look the same for everyone. Healing doesn’t necessarily mean returning to who we were before our loss. Sometimes, it means learning to live with the parts of ourselves that have changed.
So, here I am: naked, afraid, and exposed.
This journey has changed me in ways I’m still trying to understand. It has challenged how I see myself, how I navigate life, and how I understand the world around me. There are days when I feel strong and others when I feel completely vulnerable. I’m learning that both can exist at the same time.
I’m sharing this not because I have all the answers or because I’ve figured out how to navigate grief, but because I know I’m not the only one experiencing it.
Perhaps you, too, are trying to make sense of a loss, struggling with a change in your life, or simply trying to understand the person you’ve become along the way.
I want to create a space where we can have these conversations. A space where vulnerability isn’t a weakness, where we don’t have to pretend we’re okay, and where we can acknowledge the things that have changed us.
Perhaps the most important thing we can do is stop treating grief as something we must overcome as quickly as possible and start recognizing it as a part of being human.
We don’t have to let grief define our lives, but we also shouldn’t have to pretend it isn’t part of them.
This is my journey. I’m still figuring it out, but I’m willing to share it. And if you’re navigating something similar, perhaps we can figure it out together.