💔 Grief & Joy: The Sacrifice of a Broken Heart

How Grief Cracks Us Open—and Makes Space for Joy to Enter

There’s a spiritual law I’ve learned the hard way—over and over again—and it’s this:

The deeper the grief, the deeper the well for joy.

It doesn’t make grief less painful. But it does change how I hold it.
Because in my life, some of my most joyful moments came through the ache of heartbreak. Not in spite of it. Because of it.

The Law of Opposites

Think about the waves of the ocean. The high is only as high as the low was deep.

Grief and joy are like that. They live in the same house.
You can’t numb one without numbing the other.
And sometimes, it’s the breaking that allows the light to finally get in.

The Day My Heart Cracked Open

When my mother died, I lost something irreplaceable.
But I also gained something I never expected: a new relationship with my brother.

We’d always been a little distant. Not hostile—just orbiting in our own lives.
But through the grief, we found each other. The loss softened us. It opened something.

And now? We’re closer than ever. That bond is part of her legacy.

What Seventh Grade Taught Me About Strength

When I was twelve, rumors were spread about me that were so cruel, so vicious, kids at school spat on me. Literally.
I became an outcast overnight. I still feel that ache sometimes.

But here’s what else happened: I learned who my real friends were.
I found the joy of independence. I learned I could stand on my own two feet.

And it’s wild to say this, but I wouldn’t undo it. That pain shaped my strength. That grief revealed my backbone.

When Joy Had a Cost

At 23, I found the religion that felt like home.
It brought me peace, clarity, and a joy that felt complete.

But not everyone was thrilled. I lost some friends. Some family grew distant.
The grief of that loss was sharp. But the joy of finally knowing who I was and what I believed? Worth it.

Grief cracked me open. But joy filled the space.

What Grief Does to the Soul

Grief makes you wide.

That’s the best way I can describe it.
You become more compassionate. More patient. More present.
You stop needing people to hurry through their pain because you’ve sat in your own.

Grief strips you down.
But sometimes it also reveals the part of you that can’t be broken.

If You're In It Now...

If you’re in the middle of grief right now—whether it’s a big loss or a quiet ache—this is for you.

Be patient with yourself.
Give yourself the gift of time.
Time to grieve.
Time to process.
Time to feel what needs to be felt.

There is no deadline.
No “right” way to do this.
And no shame in needing more time.

But when the moment comes—when you feel the tiniest bit of readiness—consider taking a baby step back.
Just enough to zoom out and glimpse the bigger picture.

Not to minimize your pain.
But to remember: this isn’t the whole story.

When my mother died, all I could see was her absence. My mind looped around the loss, the finality, the ache.
But when I could finally zoom out—even a little—I began to remember her life.
The way she laughed. The moments she showed up for me. The beauty she brought into the world.
And slowly, joy began to mix with the grief.

Zooming out doesn’t erase the sorrow.
It gently adds context—so that grief doesn’t take up the entire frame.
It reminds us that joy still exists, that healing is possible, and that love leaves a legacy far greater than pain.

The Truth I Know Now

We carry grief every day. Sometimes in tiny pieces. Sometimes in massive waves.

But here’s the spiritual truth:

Grief is automatic.
Joy is a decision.

Joy doesn’t crash in like grief does.
You have to invite it.
You have to let it in—through the cracks grief left behind.

And that’s the sacred practice:
Holding both. Grief and joy. Ache and awe.
Letting one soften you.
Letting the other lift you.

Want to Talk About It?

If this resonates with you, I’d love to connect.

Sometimes what we need most is a safe space to talk, reflect, or just breathe with someone who gets it.
I offer 30-minute one-on-one sessions where we can talk through where you are, what you’re carrying, and what’s gently trying to unfold next.

No pressure. No fixing. Just presence and support.

👉 Book a free 30-minute session with me here

Let’s hold space for both grief and joy—together.