Thank you. I hope you know how much that matters. Some days it feels impossible to be seen in this kind of pain without people looking away or trying to fix it. Just being here with me in it—that’s everything.
Please don’t let anyone tell you how you should feel or what you should be doing with your grief. You need to do what feels right for you, at your own pace. Your grief is deeply personal—far more than anyone else can truly understand—and it can’t be measured against anyone else's pain.
Sometimes people say things about what you should or shouldn’t be doing because they care deeply. They love you and hate seeing you in pain. They want to see you happy again, not just for your sake but also so they can feel some relief themselves. That’s likely where the unsolicited advice is coming from—not judgment, but love. Still, it’s okay to remind them that your journey doesn’t need to follow anyone else's expectations.
Take the time you need. You're allowed to feel everything you're feeling.
Thank you for this. It’s a strange thing—how even love can come wrapped in pressure. I know most people mean well. I know it’s hard to watch someone in this much pain without trying to do something about it. But what I need more than fixing is space. Space to feel it all. Space to not rush toward some version of “better” that doesn’t exist without him.
This isn’t something to move through. It’s something I carry now. And I’m learning—slowly, painfully—that honoring my grief means letting it reshape me, not erase him.
🩶
We hear you and see you, and we’ll keep being here however we can.
Thank you. I hope you know how much that matters. Some days it feels impossible to be seen in this kind of pain without people looking away or trying to fix it. Just being here with me in it—that’s everything.
❤️
🥰
❤️🩹
All the love.
Sarah,
Please don’t let anyone tell you how you should feel or what you should be doing with your grief. You need to do what feels right for you, at your own pace. Your grief is deeply personal—far more than anyone else can truly understand—and it can’t be measured against anyone else's pain.
Sometimes people say things about what you should or shouldn’t be doing because they care deeply. They love you and hate seeing you in pain. They want to see you happy again, not just for your sake but also so they can feel some relief themselves. That’s likely where the unsolicited advice is coming from—not judgment, but love. Still, it’s okay to remind them that your journey doesn’t need to follow anyone else's expectations.
Take the time you need. You're allowed to feel everything you're feeling.
Thank you for this. It’s a strange thing—how even love can come wrapped in pressure. I know most people mean well. I know it’s hard to watch someone in this much pain without trying to do something about it. But what I need more than fixing is space. Space to feel it all. Space to not rush toward some version of “better” that doesn’t exist without him.
This isn’t something to move through. It’s something I carry now. And I’m learning—slowly, painfully—that honoring my grief means letting it reshape me, not erase him.
I appreciate you holding that with me. Truly.
Day 4 = fight: spiritually/physically
Alesia
Day 4 is the fight.
Spiritually. Physically.
The body holds the line, but the soul does too.
Thank you, Alesia—for standing with me in both.
I love you, Sarah 🩷🩷🩷
🥰