The Burn of Grief: When Life Hits You Full Force
Grief carves spaces in your soul, not to be filled, but to be honored.
I’ve always believed life would throw curveballs, but what I didn’t expect was the one that hit me square in the face. Losing our beloved dog Madiba was that kind of blow—one that didn’t just knock me off balance but left me sprawled on the ground, struggling even to find my feet. Grief isn’t something you can prepare for, and no amount of mental strength can shield you from the raw, unfiltered pain when it strikes.
I’ve been trying to make sense of it, but here’s the truth: sometimes, there is no “getting out” of the darkness. There’s no tidy way to wrap up grief, no quick fix that lets you sidestep the mess of emotions that come with loss. So, what am I doing? I’m not “fighting” through it. I’m letting it happen. I’m letting myself be vulnerable because right now, strength doesn’t look like pushing forward—it looks like sitting with the pain and allowing it to be part of the story.
Resilience, they say, is bending without breaking. But here’s the truth: resilience also means allowing yourself to break a little, to acknowledge that this pain is real and that it’s reshaping you. The space Madiba left—it’s there, and it’s impossible to ignore. But what I’m learning, slowly, is that maybe this space isn’t just emptiness. Maybe it’s a place for love to grow, for reflection, for transformation.
I’m not there yet. Hell, I’m not even close. But I’m starting to realize that this is how it’s probably supposed to be—messy, heartbreaking, and slowly, over time, meaningful.
That’s the burn of grief. You feel it, you don’t fight it, and maybe, just maybe, you come out stronger for it.