Permission to Grieve Differently: Why Your Way Is the Right Way

You don’t need anyone’s approval to feel the way you feel.

That might sound simple, but if you’ve lost a child, you already know how many people try to shape your grief into something more palatable.

Something quieter.

Something easier to be around.

"You should really get out of the house more.""She wouldn’t want you to be sad.""At least you still have other kids."

These words aren’t just hurtful—they’re dismissive. They’re rooted in the discomfort of people who haven’t had to walk where you walk.

But here’s the truth I want you to hear: You have permission to grieve exactly as you are.

You don’t have to cry every day to be deeply in pain. You don’t have to be strong for others. You don’t have to move on, bounce back, or "make the best of it."

You can change your mind. Cancel holidays. Keep their room exactly as it was. Or change it completely.

You can get angry at God. Or talk to Him nonstop. Or not be ready to speak at all.

You can grieve loudly or silently. With others or alone. Publicly or privately.

And most of all? You can change your grief rituals over time. What served you the first year may not serve you now. What comforts you today might feel different tomorrow. That doesn’t mean you’re doing it wrong—it means you’re healing in motion.

When I rebuilt my life after losing Zachary, I had to stop asking myself, "What would people think?" and start asking, *"What does my soul need today?"

And sometimes the answer was pajamas until noon. Sometimes it was letting go of friendships that couldn’t meet me in my grief. Sometimes it was blasting worship music in the car through tears. Sometimes it was silence.

So let me say it clearly:

You have permission to grieve differently than your sister, your best friend, or the woman you met in a grief group.

Because this is your child. Your body. Your heartbreak. Your healing.

And your way—however slow, loud, quiet, raw, tender, messy, or holy it is—is the right way.

No one else gets to decide what your grief should look like.

Not ever.

So go ahead. Rebuild on your terms. Trust your gut. And if someone doesn’t understand?

Let them misunderstand.

You don’t need to perform your pain for anyone. Just keep showing up for yourself. One honest breath at a time.

With you,

Julie