Spaces of Grief: Chapter 4 (Conversations from 2016-2017)
K: Not knowing anyone else like me, or not that I knew if anyone like that existed, and I felt lonely, different, unwelcome, angry, sometimes unworthy, or needing permission to exist. These feelings got projected on to my immediate family members (like it often does)
I overshared hoping it would help me connect and build trust with others. This dependency was dangerous because if someone connected with me, I felt safe and understood. If they didn’t, I got bullied or taken advantage of, leaving me more alone, anxious and vulnerable.
With many others, grief was often met with conflicting responses. There was the subtle judgment of being “too much”- “you cry too easily, you’re too sensitive, you feel too much.” Then came the shoulds: “you should be over this by now, you should move on, shouldn’t you be grateful for everything else that’s going well?”
S: Layered beneath it all was the confusion- that logically, we know everyone will die, yet emotionally, we can’t believe our person is gone. There was a struggle to integrate loss due to many different messages, like…
Me: “They’re not here anymore”.
Me: “Realizing I’ll never see them again.”
Others: “She’s in a better place.”
Me: “I feel like shit and that’s fine.”
Other: “She wouldn’t want you to be sad.”
Me: “She was so special to everyone…”
Others: “I knew her best… “
Me: “I worry I’m going to forget parts of her face…” Others: “You know your smile is exactly like hers.”
Me: I don’t know what to hold onto..
Others: “She’d want you to have this because you always beat her at rummy.. It was her favourite card pack”
K: Everyone at home follows the path that makes most sense to them. I am not particularly religious, but I believe that there is an abstracted energy around us. I feel like I have connected with it and had conversations with it the most in difficult times like when dad was unwell, or when my choti nani was in pain, because so much didn’t make sense, and no one really had a right answer due to the circumstances. Sometimes, I wonder if it’s out of convenience, or the need to feel supported when I feel helpless, or the act of prayer feels supportive to another person who believes so deeply that it’s your way to show your love to them.
S: Loss made me realize that religion and belief systems are different.. Religion and spirituality are different too. You can have one, all, or none… And that sometimes even without the same household, in a close family, what helps one person understand and cope may be what most upsets another. I remember when nani passed away, we had people telling us what the “right” rituals were.. Whom to feed, what to do with our hair, our bodies, her ashes… and I didn’t want to do any of it. I wanted to sit with her things, with people who loved her and talk about her.
Someone explained to me later about how rituals are often to help us internalize that the person is gone. And while I’m still not one to default to religion in times of uncertainty and pain, I see how it can help, especially when the rationale behind things is explained to everyone there.. and as long as it’s not forced and everyone has space to process it their own way.
K: Each person has a shape. Like a cookie cutter… but the feeling stays like something that lives in my spine constantly.
Fragmented, incomplete set of circles. Overlapping and never quite ending.
Or a room with many doors to get in, but no real way to leave. Sometimes feels like a trap, sometimes like a safe corner that belongs only to you.
After everything we’ve been through until now, what advice would you tell your younger self about loss and grief?
Join us for a year of curated spaces to explore loss, grief & meaning more deeply (via live virtual sessions or self-async paced workshops). Workshops will be held virtually on weekends for an intimate group of <20 at a time, once a month between January- December 2026. (Sliding scale & 2 sponsored slots offered).
Sign up on the link to receive weekly chapters & workshop details here: https://lnkd.in/gkFmdMbk