Grief: A Marathon, Not a Sprint.
Grief is a strange companion. It’s something we all meet at some point, yet it never feels quite the same twice.
Maybe it’s the loss of a loved one, the end of a relationship, or even the closing of a chapter in your life - like leaving a job you thought was forever or saying goodbye to a dream you once had. No matter the shape it takes, grief always feels intensely personal.
Grief is about learning to carry the weight differently over time, and not about ‘getting over’ something or someone. It’s not a mountain you climb once and then leave behind. For me, it’s always felt more like a river you learn to swim alongside - it’s sometimes calm, sometimes roaring, and sometimes hiding beneath the water.
Grief can be messy, and it has no schedule and no rulebook. It shows up suddenly - sometimes in a rush, sometimes lingering quietly in the background. You might be going about your day when suddenly, a familiar smell drifts past and you’re transported back to a moment you thought you’d tucked away. Or maybe it’s a song on the radio that pulls at something deep inside you, catching your breath and making your chest ache.
If you’ve ever felt pressure to “move on” or “stay strong,” I want to challenge that with something far kinder because grief doesn’t follow a clock. There is no “right” way to grieve, no neat stages to tick off like boxes on a to-do list. Sometimes, trying to fit your feelings into a neat narrative only adds to the weight you’re already carrying.
Here are some thoughts I hold gently in my heart, in case they resonate with yours:
Feel it all. Sadness, anger, confusion, relief. These feelings aren’t enemies to be fought off or locked away. They are the language grief speaks, and I invite you to allow yourself to feel without judgment or shame.
Reach out for connection. Grief can feel isolating. Find those who will listen without rushing you or telling you how to feel. Sometimes, being heard is enough to soften the sharp edges.
Be patient with yourself. Healing isn’t forgetting. It’s making room for loss in your life while still seeking joy, meaning, and love. It’s living with the ache and learning to dance with it instead of fighting it.
Honour your own path. Some find comfort in rituals - lighting candles, writing letters, creating art. Others find peace in quiet moments of reflection or in nature. There is no one way to grieve, only your way. Do it your way.
If you’re supporting someone in grief, remember that the greatest gift is often just your presence. You don’t need to fix or advise. You don’t need answers. You just need to be there, and be steady, patient, and kind.
Grief may never fully leave us. Over time, it can teach us about the depths of love we carry, the strength we didn’t know we had, and the quiet resilience in simply showing up for ourselves and each other.
So if you’re walking this path right now, I see the courage it takes to face each day with an open heart.
And I want you to hold onto this truth: you are not defined by your grief, but by how you live with it - with tenderness, honesty, and the slow, steady reclaiming of your life.
