Not all grief is loud.

Some of it shows up quietly — in the middle of the night, while folding laundry, or scrolling through your phone. It doesn’t come with sympathy cards or casseroles. No one asks how you’re holding up, because they don’t know there’s anything to ask about.

And the hardest part? Sometimes you don’t even know what to call it.
But you still carry it.
That’s grief.

Grief is a normal and natural emotional response to a change in a familiar pattern. It’s not just about death or the end of a relationship.

Maybe it’s something you hoped for that didn’t happen.
Or the loss of a version of yourself you don’t see or feel anymore.
Maybe it’s a friendship that faded, a dream you let go of, or the slow ache of a body that’s changed in ways you didn’t choose.

You might just say you feel “off,” or “low,” or “tired.”
But underneath that is something deeper.
Something heavy, but invisible.
Something that doesn’t always have words.

Even the people closest to us may not recognize what’s happening. That’s what I mean by the grief no one sees.

It’s real — even if no one else notices.
It matters — even if it’s hard to name.
And it’s worth pausing to acknowledge.

You don’t have to explain it.
You don’t need to justify how you feel.
Sometimes it’s enough just to say, “This is hard,” and have someone nod and say, “Yeah, I get it.”

If you’ve been carrying that kind of quiet grief — the kind that doesn’t get much recognition — I just want to say:  I see you.