The (Loud) Ways Grief Rebuilt Me
Five years after loss: a reflection on resilience, growth, and becoming
Grief can be quiet; a whisper in the background, reshaping the nervous system, softening focus, thinning patience. But over time, grief can also get louder. Not in pain, but in power.
Because when someone is shattered by loss, something else slowly begins to take shape.
This is the story of how grief rebuilds us.
Aftershocks of Loss
In the early stages, grief is often silent. It hides in the forgetting, the overstimulation, the fatigue. But after the numbness lifts and the nervous system begins to stabilize, something else emerges:
Life doesn’t return to normal. Life returns different.
Grief may always live in the body, but so can healing. And over time, healing begins to speak up.
Here’s how grief can rebuild you, loudly and unapologetically:
1. You stop apologizing for needing rest.
Grief teaches the body where its edges are. After burnout, shutdown, and overwhelm, many realize rest isn’t weakness. It’s wisdom.
2. You let people in; slowly, but more truthfully.
There’s a depth of connection that only opens after pain. Grief strips away pretense. It invites realness. Vulnerability. Presence.
3. You get clearer about your boundaries.
Grief clarifies what you no longer have energy for and you stop pretending otherwise. People-pleasing fades. Honesty rises.
4. You find new rituals that bring you back to life.
Maybe it’s morning walks. Or journaling. Or dancing barefoot to your favorite song. These are the tiny, sacred ways we reclaim our aliveness.
5. You learn to cry and laugh in the same breath.
Grief expands emotional capacity. It deepens joy. Silliness and sadness live side by side. And somehow, that becomes enough.
6. You trust your inner voice more.
There’s something about surviving the unimaginable that awakens intuition. The outside world quiets, and the inner one gets louder.
7. You begin to help others hold their own grief.
Grief turns some into witnesses. Space holders. Listeners. Not because they have answers, but because they understand what it means to hold sorrow gently.
Compound Grief and the Nervous System
For those who’ve endured more than one loss (whether it’s death, heartbreak, betrayal, illness, or all of the above) the body often stays in a state of alert. This is compound grief, and it’s not a sign of fragility.
It’s a sign that your nervous system has had to carry more than any one person should.
But here’s the hope: what overwhelms can also be slowly healed. With time. With safety. With somatic practices that help the body remember what it means to feel, without collapsing.
This is the Loud Part
This is where grief is no longer hidden in brain fog and shutdown. This is the part where people speak up. Where healing is not quiet or private, but embodied, expressed, and shared.
Because sometimes we suffer in silence for too long.
And eventually, it’s time to heal loudly.
To say: I’ve made it this far.
To say: This changed me and I’m still here.
To say: My grief didn’t ruin me.
It rebuilt me.
The Grief Journey Is Ongoing
Grief doesn’t disappear. But it softens. It evolves. It gives way to something else…resilience, depth, tenderness, truth.
Each phase has a purpose. Each season has something to teach.
And whether you’re in year 1, 5, or 10, your process is valid.
At some point, everyone will face grief.
May we all remember: it can take. But it also gives.
Grief may break us open…
But healing is how we grow into something even more whole.
