“Grief is not a formula — it’s a fingerprint.”
You may be tempted to measure your grief.
To compare it. To judge it. To wonder if you're doing it wrong because someone else is doing it differently.
But grief is as unique as love itself.
Some people cry daily. Others go numb for months. Some keep busy. Others can’t get out of bed.
There is no timeline. No perfect arc. No stage you’re required to pass through.
The only 'right' way to grieve is the way that honors where you are.
You don’t have to explain it. You don’t have to justify it.
Grief isn’t something you master — it’s something you walk with. And each step is sacred, even if no one else understands your path.
Let yourself be exactly as you are. Raw. Restless. Quiet. Angry. Still. Laughing at strange moments. Silent when others expect words.
It’s not just okay. It’s holy.
Sit comfortably and take three deep breaths. Repeat silently: 'I am allowed to grieve in my own way.' Let your breath move slowly, without pressure or performance. Let this be your permission slip to be exactly where you are.
Write a note to yourself today titled: 'This is what my grief looks like.' List three honest truths about how you feel or what you've been doing lately. Then write: 'And that is enough.'
Tina M. “I thought I wasn’t grieving 'right' because I wasn’t crying much. But when I stopped judging it, I realized how deep it went. My silence was still grief. My stillness was sacred too.”
Grief isn’t a contest — it’s a communion with love, in your language.