25/02/2026
I used to believe grief made people uncomfortable… so I tried to make mine smaller.
Smaller, quieter, more acceptable.
On the podcast, I said something I don’t think we say out loud enough.
Grief doesn’t end.
It changes shape, it integrates, and it softens in some places and stays sharp in others.
But it doesn’t disappear.
For years I thought healing meant getting over it, getting back to who I was before, becoming the “strong one” again.
What I’ve learned, through losing my dad, losing friends, losing my health, losing versions of myself… is that grief isn’t something we conquer.
It’s something we learn to live beside.
When we stop fighting it, when we stop trying to rush it, when we allow joy to exist without guilt, something shifts.
Not because the pain vanishes, but because we stop abandoning ourselves inside it.
On the podcast we spoke about invisible grief, the kind people carry while still functioning, chronic illness, childhood trauma, ancestral weight, and loss that never had a funeral.
The world celebrates resilience.
But it rarely honours the quiet courage of staying.
If you’re carrying something no one else can see…
you’re not broken.
You’re holding a story that deserves gentleness.
Grief isn’t something you get over.
It’s something you learn to carry without dropping yourself in the process.
If you’re in that space right now, surviving quietly, trying to make sense of a life that didn’t turn out the way you thought, you’re not alone in it.
Nothing about you is wrong for still feeling it.
The full conversation is waiting in the comments.
If you’re carrying invisible grief and want support, you’re welcome to reach out privately.
