What Grief Doesn’t Tell You (But I Will)
Grief doesn’t knock, it barges in. It doesn’t ask if you’re ready, it just takes and takes and takes. It takes your breath, your focus, your joy, your sense of safety, and sometimes, it even takes your words. Ohhh… do I know, I’ve experienced it. In 2020, we lost our mother to cancer. In 2021, I gave birth to my son Jace, and he passed after only an hour of being on this earth. And not long after, the man (my then husband) I thought would be my rock, my safe space after experiencing such trauma, asked for a divorce so he could marry his mistress.
That trifecta of pain nearly destroyed me. I wasn’t living, I was merely existing. Floating through my days in a fog, smiling when I had to, holding it together in public, but completely numb on the inside. I would sometimes sit in my car before work and practice smiling, rehearsing positive statements that I would say when asked how I was doing. Unfortunately, it didn’t always work.
I remember one moment like it happened yesterday. I was at work, sitting through a PLC meeting, trying to pay attention. The presenter sounded muffled and a million miles away. I was trying my best to function like everything was normal. A colleague leaned over and quietly asked, “How are you holding up?” And without even thinking, the words slipped out of my mouth: “I’m dead inside.”
I wanted to crawl under the table. I was horrified. Embarrassed. Vulnerable in a way I wasn’t prepared for. But the truth is, that was the most honest thing I had said in weeks. Because that’s how I felt. Empty. Disconnected. Lost.
The Truth Grief Doesn’t Tell You
One thing you should know is that grief doesn’t come with a manual. It doesn’t warn you that the world will keep turning, people will keep going, and you’ll feel like you’re stuck in a life that no longer feels like your own. It doesn’t tell you that you’ll question everything: your faith, your purpose, your worth. It doesn’t tell you that even when things start to get “better,” you’ll carry the ache with you forever.
Because here’s the truth: grief never really leaves you. It just changes shape. An example I like to give my clients, it will go from carrying a boulder in your pocket to a pebble. The rock is still there, it just gets a little easier to carry with time. You learn to carry it more gently. You build a life around it, not because you’ve “moved on,” but because you’ve moved with it.
If You’re in It Right Now… First, let me say I’m sorry, but if you’re deep in grief, I want you to know something:
There’s nothing wrong with you for feeling empty.
There’s nothing wrong with you for breaking down randomly, or for feeling numb when everyone else expects you to “be okay.”
Grief is a long, unglamorous, deeply sacred journey.
You don’t have to rush it.
You don’t have to explain it.
You don’t even have to “do it right.”
You just have to honor it.
And in time, maybe… begin to honor yourself again, too.
I’m not here because I have it all figured out. I’m here because I’ve felt it all, and I’m still here. And if you are too, then I hope this space helps you feel a little less alone.
Love Jacquelyn