15/04/2025
Grief Then vs. Now: What I Wish I Had Known
In 2013, my world shattered. My sister died suddenly, with no warning, and everything I thought I knew about life changed in an instant. The grief was immediate and all-consuming. It hit me so hard. It left me feeling numb, scared, empty, alone and completely unprepared.
I remember the feeling so clearly, this deep, unbearable sadness in my chest that I couldn’t shake. I didn’t know it was possible to miss someone so much, or to feel so lost while everything around me just kept moving. I switched to autopilot, trying to hold things together, trying to be strong for everyone else. But inside, I was breaking.
I wore the mask of someone who was “managing,” but behind it, I was overwhelmed and exhausted - exhausted from pretending, from holding back the tears, from trying to make others feel okay when I was anything but.
What I wish I had known back then is that I didn’t have to be strong all the time. I didn’t have to keep it together for everyone else. I wasn’t weak for needing help. I was grieving. I was human.
Then: The Early Days of My Grief
Grief doesn’t arrive with a manual. It comes crashing in, uninvited and all-consuming. When Sharon died, I thought it was something I had to “push through.” I thought if I just kept busy, kept moving, kept doing that daily ‘thing’, the pain would fade. I believed that time would heal me, that time would make things better. I was so wrong! I didn’t understand that grief isn’t something you “get over.” Grief doesn’t come with a clear beginning, middle, and end.
No one really prepares you for how grief lingers. How it catches you off guard. I was kind of prepared for the birthdays and for Christmas but I wasn’t so prepared for songs, in random moments that seem so ordinary until they suddenly aren’t. I was unprepared for the loneliness, even in a room full of people. And I wish more than anything that I’d felt safe enough to speak more openly about how I was actually feeling.
Now: Grief with Softer Edges
Years later, the grief can still visit, but it’s changed. It doesn’t scream at me like it used to. Sometimes it whispers, sometimes it still stings, normally when it jumps in and slaps me round the face at totally at the wrong moment, but I’ve learned to process my grief, I have learnt to say goodbye to the pain, rather than run from it.
The love I have for my sister didn’t end when her life did. It lives on in me, in the memories, in the way I show up for others, and in how I carry her forward . In a strange way, it has shaped me into someone more empathetic, more present.
🙏What I Wish I Had Known
You don’t have to do it alone. It’s okay to reach out to friends and family. It’s okay to ask for help. You are allowed to fall apart.
Grief doesn’t follow rules. There’s no timeline. There’s no checklist. There is no “right” way to grieve.
It’s okay to not be okay. Pretending you’re fine doesn’t make the pain go away - it just buries it deeper. You don’t have to rush back into life or pretend you're okay to make others comfortable.
Joy and grief can coexist. Laughing again doesn’t mean you’ve forgotten. Living your life doesn’t mean you’ve moved on, it means you’re finding a way to move forward. It is ok to feel happy.
You are allowed to change. Grief will change you. Let it. Let it soften you, open your heart in ways you never expected.
Grief can be quiet. Sometimes it shows up in subtle ways - in forgetfulness, in irritability, in exhaustion. That’s grief, too.
If you’re reading this and you’re in the early days of grief, please know: it won’t always hurt like this. You’ll find space to breathe again. Most importantly, you are not alone.
I ask you to share this today, you never know who may take some comfort at such a sad and difficult time. ❤ If you would like to talk about your grief then please, do contact me - 07940542660