Issue link: https://www.ascpskindeepdigital.com/i/1542457
Grief reminded me that healing is not meant to be done alone. Expand your offerings safely with Advanced Esthetics Insurance at ascpskincare.com 79 At first, accepting help felt uncomfortable. I worried I was burdening people. Then I realized if any of them were in my position, I would do the same. Helping someone in grief is a gift—for giver and receiver. When we allow ourselves to receive, we stay connected to our community. We give others permission to care for us as we care for them. GIVE PEOPLE GRACE After a death, people often don't know what to say. Some avoid the topic; others try to fix your pain with platitudes. I heard everything from "He's in a better place" to "You'll find love again." In those early months, those words stung. My husband did not leave me. We didn't break up. He died. It took time to realize that most people truly mean well—they just don't know what to say. Death makes people uncomfortable, so they fill the silence with words that are meant to comfort but sometimes hurt instead. It's OK to set boundaries. It's OK to say, "That comment doesn't help," or to excuse yourself from a conversation. However, try to give grace. Just as we're learning to navigate our grief, others are learning to navigate us in our grief. Grace doesn't mean tolerating insensitivity—it means understanding that everyone is doing their best, even when it doesn't look like it. DO SOMETHING THAT BRINGS YOU JOY EVERY DAY My husband had a rule: Do at least one thing every day that makes you smile. Sometimes it was taking our dogs to the park. Other times, it was working on a project with our daughter or tending to his plants. After he passed, joy felt impossible. Everything that used to make me happy reminded me of him. I stopped cooking—something we loved doing together—because it hurt too much. Over time, I realized that cooking didn't just remind me of him, it reconnected me to him. The first time I made one of his favorite dishes, I cried the entire time—but I also laughed. I could almost hear him teasing me for overseasoning. For the first time in months, I felt a flicker of warmth that wasn't just sadness. I realized that joy and grief could coexist. Finding joy doesn't mean you've stopped grieving. It means you're remembering what it feels like to live. Maybe it's a walk outside, a favorite song, or a cup of tea in the morning. Joy doesn't have to be big to be powerful. Sometimes it's just the act of noticing beauty again. BE OPEN TO NEW EXPERIENCES After a loss, everything feels foreign. Doing something new without your loved one can feel like betrayal. I struggled with that. The first time I went to a restaurant we loved, I cried the entire meal. The first time I took a trip without him, I felt guilty for enjoying it.