Grief is the one thing everyone will experience, but somehow it still feels taboo.
When my mom died, I expected the heartbreak, confusion, the whole world tilting on its axis. What I didn’t expect was the quiet. Not literal quiet, but the kind that shows up when you try to talk about grief and people don’t know what to say to you. The kind where you’re scrolling through TikTok and find countless self-care videos, but almost none are really about grief. The kind where friends send “I’m here for you” texts… and then never check in again.
I realised that grief doesn’t just hurt… it isolates. I remember searching online for something relatable, something raw, or something real. Instead, everything felt either too clinical or too polished. “Stages of grief,” “healthy coping,” “moving forward” – like loss is some kind of project you just have to manage efficiently.
No one tells you how it feels when you want to call them and suddenly remember you can’t. Or when you’re at Tesco, trying to pick out a new blender, and you realise there’s no one to text for advice. Or sitting down for Christmas dinner and noticing the empty chair. Or something as small as seeing an ad with a happy family, laughing together in a living room, and feeling a sudden, sharp pain in your chest.
It’s uncomfortable, sure…but why does that mean we shouldn’t talk about it?
As women, we’re often expected to carry emotional weight quietly. To be “strong,” “resilient,” “mature.” I found myself worrying about making other people uncomfortable with my sadness. It felt like I was supposed to tuck the messiest parts of my life into my sleeve and pretend I was fine because that’s what a “strong woman” does.
But womanhood isn’t about emotional tidiness. It’s about being human. It’s about being able to say: This hurts. This changed me. And I don’t have to hide it.
Grief isn’t a failure or a flaw; it’s love that doesn’t know where to go. And maybe if we were more open about it, online and offline, more of us would feel less alone in the experience. Talking about it doesn’t make you weak. If anything, it makes you honest. It makes you human.
If grief is a universal experience, then the conversation around it should be universal too. So here I am. Starting one.