You know the smile you wear so nobody asks questions? That’s the grief mask. It’s the “I’m good” when your chest feels like it’s caving in. It’s showing up, performing, answering texts, going to work, cooking dinner… while a part of you is still standing in the moment your world changed. Grief masks are heavy because they don’t just hide pain from others… they slowly disconnect you from yourself. Most people don’t wear the mask because they’re fake. They wear it because the world is uncomfortable with grief that doesn’t resolve quickly. Because people stop asking. Because life expects you to keep producing, keep parenting, keep functioning, keep being “you” — even when you don’t know who you are anymore. So you learn how to carry conversations while your mind is somewhere else. You learn how to laugh on cue. You learn how to survive inside rooms where nobody realizes you’re silently trying to hold your life together. But here’s what I want you to know… You don’t heal by perfecting the mask. You heal by learning where it came from, what it’s protecting, and how to slowly, safely take it off without falling apart. Grief isn’t something you push through. It’s something you learn to walk with while rebuilding a life that still belongs to you. If you’re exhausted from pretending you’re okay and you’re ready to understand your grief in a way that actually helps you move forward… Go to MasterGrief.com

Although I’ve lost friends and family over the years, each loss hits a little different. 7/5/24..not only did that day effect me, it changed me in ways I never thought I would. I lost that spark, i don’t know if I’ll never get that back but what I do know is I wouldn’t have made it this far if it wasn’t for coming across Toni’s live just a week after my loss. I took that step and signed up for the online course and it is life changing. And what’s great is you can replay it over and over, for the extra little reminder, to keep going! I am so glad I can be a part of an amazing community of beautiful souls.

I want to share something I’ve been reflecting on. Watching what these coaches are quietly building has stopped me in my tracks — not because it’s impressive on paper, but because it’s real. People are taking their lived experience with grief and turning it into something steady, ethical, and deeply supportive for others. Here’s what that looks like right now: In Colorado, one coach began with simple one-on-one support. That grew into a coaching practice rooted in grief literacy. This year, she became an author and now works in collaboration with therapists who refer clients to her for peer-based care. In New Jersey, another coach noticed how lost schools felt when grief showed up. She now partners with school districts, running grief education for staff and peer support spaces for students — helping schools respond instead of freeze. In Ireland, a coach blended grief training with community work to create small peer-to-peer circles. These groups now support people who didn’t feel met by traditional systems and wanted something human, not clinical. None of these people had a perfect plan. They trusted where they were. They trusted their process. And they said yes before they had it all figured out. If we’re being honest — we need people doing this work. People who are willing to take a chance on themselves. To trust their experience. To trust the quiet knowing that says, maybe this is something I’m meant to do. If you’ve felt even the smallest pang — a pause, a tug, a “what if” — I want you to consider saying yes. Enrollment to become a certified grief coach is now open. There are multiple pathways and offers designed to meet you where you are, and it’s important that you read carefully through the different coach levels to choose what truly fits your life, capacity, and goals. Learn more and enroll below.. https://mastergrief.com/become-a-grief-educator You don’t need to be ready. You just need to be willing.

Hi, 20 years ago I lost my mam and due to recent passings its brought my mams passing to the forefront. At the sametime I'm grieving who I once was, as I'm leaving work on ill health retirement due to medical grounds. I feel that I've lost my role as a parent, no longer needed as a work colleague and as I'm housebound at present the lost of friendships, and grieving who I am as well as many bereavements.

Some mornings feel like this strange split. There’s a moment — before your brain catches up — where love is just love. Where the body is calm. Where nothing hurts yet. And then memory walks in. Grief taps you on the shoulder and says, “Hey. Don’t forget.” And suddenly you’re divided between: - the quiet of the now - and the weight of what’s missing That doesn’t mean you’re doing grief wrong. It means your nervous system is trying to protect you. That calm moment wasn’t denial. It was your system regulating. The remembering isn’t weakness. It’s attachment. Grief isn’t one state — it’s a constant shifting between presence and memory. If mornings are the hardest for you, you’re not broken. You’re human. And you don’t have to figure this out alone. 👉 If you want to understand grief from the inside out — the brain, the body, the identity shift — go to MasterGrief.com. This isn’t about surviving loss. It’s about learning how to live with it. #grief #morninggrief #griefjourney #bereavement #loss #healinggrief #griefeducation #nervoussystem #griefsupport #mastergrief #griefwork