What I Wish I'd Known About Grief Before Losing My Parents

When Daddy passed away in 2015, followed by my Mama's passing just over a year later, I thought I was ready.

I wasn't. I had no idea how not-ready I was.

I was raised to be strong — to always keep my chin up and face any challenge head-on, solve any problem that crossed my path, and to keep moving forward no matter what. I grew up believing that strength meant never showing weakness, and I was determined to continue to live by that, especially after I became an orphan of this world.

But...alas, grief doesn’t follow the rules we think it will.

In those first years after losing my parents, I pushed myself harder than ever. I was motivated and driven, but underneath it all, I was an anxious perfectionist who was angry, easily offended, and emotionally exhausted.

I set impossible expectations for myself and for those around me — without even realizing what was really going on.

What I didn’t understand then was that I wasn’t truly being strong. I was simply avoiding my grief, and it was turning into anger. You know that quote: "I sat with my anger long enough until she told me her real name was grief"? That could have been written about me.

I thought I was doing great, holding it all together and keeping all the plates in the air, but inside, I was breaking apart. I saw crying as a weakness, and asking for help felt like admitting failure, and failure was to be avoided at all costs.

It took time — and a lot of painful moments — to recognize this. But even when I became aware, just knowing wasn’t enough. The hard part came next — actually doing something about it.

Cue the vulnerability. For a lifelong perfectionist, making myself vulnerable was something that I avoided at all costs, but in order to start healing, I had to learn how to face the emotions that I’d buried for so many years and I had learn to be gentle with myself...Not my forte.

But the learning didn't stop there. I had to learn how to be gentle with others and show them that I was grateful for the way they stayed by my side, even when I wasn’t the easiest person to be around. I had to learn that it was okay to love people, but not physically have them in my life any longer, and that not everyone was meant to be part of my grief journey.

Most importantly, I had to learn patience — with myself, my feelings, and the slow, messy process of healing.

Before grief, I fought through challenges with sheer willpower and the mindset that failure wasn't even an option. But grief demands something different: the courage to sit with your feelings, to be present with the pain, and allow yourself to heal — imperfectly.

My grief journey impacted me so profoundly that I dedicated my coaching practice to helping other grievers. I became a grief coach because I know what it feels like to be deep in the trenches of loss. If my journey can help someone else find their way, then it’s all worth it. My daily goal is to connect with just one...One person who needs guidance, or a shoulder to lean on, or someone to just sit with them and bear witness to their grief.

If I could go back and tell myself one thing, it would be this:

You don't have to do it all alone. Take the help where you can get it. Grief isn’t about being strong all the time. It’s about being honest — messy, imperfect, and...human. And that’s where the healing truly begins.

If I can support you on your grief journey, please reach out. I'll be here waiting.