When You Grieve Differently

Close your eyes.
Feel the weight of your body, the ground beneath you, the quiet support that is always there.

Take a deep breath in…
Hold it for a moment.
And let it go.

You’re allowed to grieve in your own language.
Whether that means silence or searching for meaning, moving or remembering, reaching for others or pulling inward.
Even if it doesn’t match theirs.

You don’t have to explain it.
You don’t have to justify it.
You don’t have to grieve in a way that makes sense to anyone but you.

Now, bring to mind someone else in grief.
Someone you love.
Maybe they sit in silence, their pain a quiet storm you can’t quite reach.
Maybe they stay busy, filling every space with movement to avoid the stillness.
Maybe they keep talking, searching for connection in words.
Maybe they don’t know what to say at all.

Can you see their pain—even if it doesn’t look like yours?
Can you hold space for your way and theirs—at the same time?

Breathe in: I honor how I feel.
Breathe out: I allow them to do the same.

You don’t have to grieve the same way to stay close.
You don’t have to understand completely to be there.
You just have to be willing to meet each other where you are.

One more breath.
You’re doing better than you think.
And so are they.