You Don’t Need Permission to Grieve: Validating Your Own Pain
Grief doesn’t wait for permission. Grief shows up unannounced in your body, your breath, your sleep, and your relationships. It lingers in the pause before a conversation, and in the weight on your chest when you hear that song. In the way your nervous system holds the story long after the world has moved on.
But here’s the thing most people don’t tell you: Grief doesn’t always look like what society expects.
If your loss fits a cultural script, like death, divorce, or diagnosis, it tends to be met with food platters, cards, and condolences. But when your grief is quiet, complicated, or doesn't come with a funeral? Suddenly… silence.
You might feel like no one knows what to say or, worse, like no one sees it at all.
The truth? We are wildly grief-unaware as a culture. We rush people to move on. We invalidate trauma that doesn’t look “big” enough. We pretend that only certain types of heartbreak deserve support.
And that’s not just harmful. It’s deeply dehumanizing.
This kind of loss has a name: disenfranchised grief. It’s the grief that goes unsupported, unacknowledged, or invalidated. And if you've ever been told to "let it go already" or "it wasn't that bad,” I want you to hear this: You are not the problem.
You do not need permission to grieve.
You do not have to feel better fast.
You do not need a death certificate to feel devastated.
You do not need anyone else to get it in order for it to be valid.
So what do you do with a grief that the world refuses to validate? You start by validating yourself.
That’s why I put together these gentle reminders to come back to when you feel invisible, misunderstood, or uncertain about whether your grief is “acceptable.” Because it is.
10 Ways to Validate Your Grief Even When Society Doesn’t
Remind Yourself: You Don’t Need External Approval to Feel What You Feel: Grief and trauma experiences are not up for debate with anyone. If you’re hurting or struggling, that’s enough. No one else gets to decide if it “counts.”
Stop Comparing Your Pain to Others: There’s no hierarchy of heartbreak. Just because someone has it “worse” doesn’t mean you don’t get to feel devastated.
Speak Your Truth, Even If It Shakes: In a safe place or with a safe person, write it down. Say it out loud. Yell it into the woods or into the sky. Give your experience words. Your story matters, even if you don’t always believe it.
Validate the Version of You That Did What You Had to Survive: Even if you coped in ways that were not always healthy, or that you now regret, that version of you did what they needed to survive. That’s a big deal. Honor them.
Let Yourself Be Angry: If your grief has rage inside it, don’t swallow it down. It’s an important and powerful emotion. Anger is a valid part of the grieving process, and it deserves space, not shame.
Stop Explaining Yourself to People Who Refuse to Understand: You don’t owe anyone a perfectly packaged explanation for your pain. You just don’t. Your healing is not a group project, and feeling safe is the most important part of the work.
Build Rituals That Acknowledge Your Grief: Light a candle. Say their name. Plant a garden. Visit the place. Volunteer with a cause they loved. Whatever holds meaning for you matters. Do something that honors what was beautiful and important in how you carry forward. This is only about what works for you.
Trust Your Triggers as Information, Not Inconvenience: When something sets you off or triggers a response within you, listen to it. Get curious about what it may want you to hear. Your nervous system is trying to speak. Respond with compassion, not criticism or self-bullying.
Talk to Your Inner Child: Remind them: “You didn’t deserve that. I believe you. I see you.” Reparenting is a radical form of validation and self-compassion, especially when we are feeling vulnerable or self-conscious.
And finally, remember this: You don’t have to wait for the world to validate your grief. You are the proof that it was real. Sometimes the most sacred thing you can do is place your hand on your heart and say, “I went through something. It changed me. Maybe indefinitely. And it mattered.”
You are allowed to grieve, no matter what it looked like. You are allowed to take your time. You are allowed to name your experience, honor your loss, and build rituals around what mattered to you.
Sometimes, the most important person who needs to witness your grief is you.
That is the beginning of healing. Not because society says so. But because you just do.
