To the one carrying yourself through something no one trained you for,

There are days in grief that don’t look dramatic.
No breakdown. No visible collapse.

Just you; functioning.

Replying. Deciding. Turning up.
Putting one hour after another where they belong.

From the outside, it can look like coping.
From the inside, it can feel like dragging a full house through mud.

This is the part people miss.

Strength in grief rarely feels like strength.
It feels like effort.
Like resistance.
Like doing what must be done with a heart that didn’t agree to still be beating.

Some days you are not “moving forward.”
You are carrying yourself forward.

And there is a difference.

One is progress language.
One is survival language.

If today is a survival day, you are not behind.
You are in it.

One true thing:
Surviving a day you didn’t want to face is not failure. It is fierce, invisible work.

Quote:
“Do not judge me by my successes, judge me by how many times I fell down and got back up again.”
- Nelson Mandela

Song:
“Runaway” - AURORA

Journal prompt:
What did it actually cost me to get through today; emotionally, physically, quietly?

A small ritual for this week:
At the end of one day this week, write down three things you carried that no one thanked you for. Read them back. Let them count.

One thing to remember this week:
Effort counts - even when it’s invisible, even when no one claps. Especially when it’s invisible and no one claps.

A note from me:
I wanted to write about this because I know these days personally, the ones where nothing is on fire, but everything is heavy. After Kahlia died, there were long stretches where people assumed I was “doing well” simply because I answered emails, showed up to meetings, or spoke clearly. What they couldn’t see was the private cost of each ordinary act.

Grief doesn’t only break you in the moments you fall apart. It also reshapes you in the moments you keep going.

There were days I didn’t feel brave. I felt mechanical. There were days I didn’t feel resilient. I felt cornered by reality and moving because I had no alternative. And yet, looking back, those were strength days. I just didn’t recognise them at the time.

That’s why this matters to name.

If you are carrying yourself right now; not thriving, not healed, just carrying - I see you doing the hard, uncelebrated work.

If this lands close, you can reply. You don’t need polished words. Human ones are enough.

With you in the carrying,
Kirsten