Finding “Your People” Who Understand Grief

The following article is a work of fiction. The characters, events, and situations described are entirely imagined and are not based on real-life occurrences. However, the themes and experiences reflected in this piece may resonate with readers, as they mirror challenges and emotions that many people I speak to encounter in their own lives.

"Shared sorrow is half sorrow, shared joy is double joy." – Swedish Proverb

Grief has a way of changing the way the world feels. For Carla, losing her partner in a sudden and tragic moment shattered everything she thought she knew about love, life, and tomorrow. Life had split into two timelines: before, when he was alive, and after, when she had to figure out how to keep breathing without him.

As the months passed, she braced herself for her first birthday without him. On the morning of that day, her phone began to buzz with messages. Cards arrived in the mail, and well-meaning friends posted on her social media: “Hope you have a wonderful day!” Those words, once innocent, now pierced like glass. Wonderful? The thought of celebrating felt unbearable, and their cheerful wishes only deepened her sense of isolation. It was as if no one could see the depth of her wound.

But among the cards, two stood out. One friend wrote, “I know this birthday feels different and heavy without him. Please know I am holding you in my heart today.” Another said simply, “This day must hurt. I’m sending you love.”

Those words didn’t try to fix her. They didn’t demand she smile or pretend. Instead, they acknowledged her reality and met her exactly where she was.

In that moment, Carla realized something vital: grief had revealed a hard truth. Not everyone in her circle could walk with her through this pain. Some offered her clichés or cheer she couldn’t touch, while others, even if few, had the courage to sit with the discomfort, to say, “I see you. I know this is hard.”

From then on, Carla made a choice, not to shut people out, but to lean more closely into the ones who could honor her grief instead of denying it. It didn’t erase her loneliness, but it gave her a kind of quiet companionship that mattered more than she ever expected.

She learned that in grief, you don’t just need people around you; you need the right people. The ones who can meet you where you are, even in the darkest moments. And in their presence, she began to find the strength to carry both her love and her loss, side by side.

💛 Your story matters. If you’ve experienced something similar, whether it’s the loss of a child, reconnecting with family, or finding “your people” who understand grief, consider sharing your journey with three people you know. Your words could be the comfort someone else is needing today.

With love, 

Dena