Whether you’re in the thick of change, quietly cocooning, or simply not in a space to listen right now—I honor you.

Grief Heals is a family, and families know how to feed one another in many ways. So here are a few invitations, tools, and practices for you to carry into your own day:

Nourishment for the In-Between

1. Practice the pause. Take one breath. Let yourself feel exactly how you feel. No fixing. No judgment. Just presence.
   

2. Name a shift. What have you recently let go of, or what is letting go of you? What might be arriving in its place?
   

3. Try this breath: Inhale: I belong here. Exhale: Even in the in-between.
   

4. Reflection prompt: What part of your life right now feels like a threshold—a goodbye and a hello at the same time?
   

Up for listening…

Let’s dive deep into the beautiful, generative space between what was and what will be.

A journey where grief isn't loss, but Love– witnessing, listening, and giving a compassionate kiss to your most tender emotions.

We explore:

• The magic happening underground, just like muscles breaking down to rebuild stronger

• How every emotion - anger, resentment, uncertainty - has a place in nourishing your personal ecosystem

• The power of welcoming all parts of yourself, just as nature welcomes every creature

We'll breathe together, stretch our arms wide, and remember: we belong to each other. Your story is not just yours - it's a sweeping, interconnected circle that touches us all.

Inspired by Amanda Owen’s The Power of Receiving and the Rumi poem The Guest House, this episode is for anyone in the middle of a goodbye and the unknown ahead…

Which, if we’re honest, is all of us.

This Episode Is For You If…

• You find yourself comparing your success, your body, your parenting, or your worth to others.
  

• You struggle with feeling “not enough” and don’t know why.
  

• You want a way out of the pain loop that doesn’t shame you for how you got there.

Hello, hello, hello—

Let’s just take a breath together. Because you and I? We breathe the same air. We really do belong to each other.

This week on the Grief Heals podcast, we’re exploring something that affects all of us—whether we admit it or not: comparison. We’re diving into two chapters from Mel Robbins’ book The Let Them Theory, and like always, we’re holding it through the lens of grief—not as something tragic, but as love coming to meet what was lost.

Because here’s the truth: We don’t compare ourselves because we’re stupid, or broken, or shallow. We compare because we learned—somewhere along the way—that in order to be loved, we had to be better. Be quieter. Be smarter. Be more useful. Be less needy.

And what if that’s the very place grief is trying to reach?

In this episode, we explore:

• How comparison is a natural outcome of unmet childhood needs for safety and belonging
  

• The brilliance of our early coping strategies (like perfectionism, people-pleasing, staying small)
  

• A framework that helps us say: everything I’ve thought or done made perfect sense with what I knew and what I had
  

• Why naming our losses opens the door to healing them
  

• How grief grows our capacity to love and be loved as we are—not as who we perform to be
  

And yes, we touch on capitalism, poverty, education systems, and how this all connects to collective grief—and our collective healing.

Whether or not you listen, here are a few prompts to help you hold what surfaced:

1. Where do I compare myself the most? What am I afraid would happen if I didn’t?
   

2. What did I learn about love growing up? What part of me thought “I have to earn it”?
   

3. What might change if I told myself: You are already enough. You’re already loved. You’re already home.
   

Listen now to “Comparison, Compassion, and the Loss of Belonging” [Insert episode link]

And don’t forget— We’ll be launching a Let Them book club soon, walking through Mel Robbins’ work through the lens of grief. You don’t have to perform. You don’t have to pretend. You just get to show up as you are, with your whole self—and that is enough.

Because grief heals. Because you matter. Because we belong to each other.

In this week’s episode of Grief Heals, we explore Chapter 5 of Mel Robbins’ book Let Them, which invites us to let them think bad thoughts about you.

And in true Grief Heals fashion, we’re holding that invitation through the lens of grief—not grief as death, but as love bringing nutrients to the soul, the kind that fosters new life, deep self-acceptance, and brave belonging.

Because let’s be real: So many of us were never taught that our loudness, our softness, our mess, our silence, our brilliance—were okay.

We were shaped, shamed, scolded, or celebrated only when we conformed.

And what got lost in all that shaping? Us.

So we talk about that in this episode:

The grief of being judged for who you are

The strategies you developed to belong (people-pleasing, perfectionism, shrinking, rebelling—not bad, just brilliant adaptations)

And the reclamation of your wholeness, not through force but through love

You don’t have to listen to receive something nourishing from this. Here are a few reflection prompts and tools you can use right now:

Reflection Prompts

Whether or not you press play, these are yours to hold.

When was a time you were judged for something beautifully unique about you?

What got lost in the aftermath? What strategy did you develop to stay safe?

What part of you are you still trying to manage or hide to avoid rejection?

Could that part be grieving not being celebrated?

What would it mean to let them judge you—and still love yourself?

What does that kind of freedom feel like in your body?

Practice: Letting Grief Nourish What Was Lost

Close your eyes.

Place a hand on your heart or belly.

Breathe in the phrase: We breathe the same air.

Breathe out: We belong to each other.

Let grief come like water, like wind, like the love you didn’t get then—but are giving to yourself now.

Want to listen?

This episode is full of tender stories, real-time revelations, and an honest look at how grief can meet us right where we are—even in our shame, our mistakes, our need to control.

Even in a too-loud voice or a scraped-up pair of jeans.