August Belongs to the Grieftenders

For grief, they gave us stages, but what we need is ceremony!

There is a kind of grief we carry that apparently doesn’t get a name. It doesn’t start with a death certificate, it doesn’t always come with tears, and for damn sure, it doesn’t end with “closure.”

It’s the kind that lingers quietly in our work, our daily rituals, our relationships, and our thoughts. The kind that lives in the body long after our minds decide we’ve “moved on.”

And because it doesn’t look like mourning, it doesn’t get treated like it matters. But it does frikkin matter!

It shapes us. It shrinks us. It sharpens us. It sends us places. And more often than not, it stays unspoken.

Somewhere along the way, we started treating grief like a fire alarm. Loud. Sudden. Temporary. A thing to be silenced. Something that shows up, gets dealt with, and goes silent again. We forgot that grief is not always an emergency.

Sometimes, it’s a season, sometimes it’s a permanent roommate. Oftentimes, it’s a teacher we keep trying to ignore. And that ignorance has costs.

Most of us were taught that grief is only valid when someone dies.

We were taught that if we’re still hurting months—or years—later, something’s wrong with us.

That silence is strength. That healing is linear. That we should “let it go” without being taught how to lay it down.

But here’s what I know good: Grief is not weakness, nor is a detour. Grief is intelligence. Grief is what love looks like when it doesn’t know where tf to go. Grief is the echo of what mattered.

Grief is how we savor loss. And it, grief—your grief—deserves tending.

I spent a lot of time listening to people’s grief. Not just the losses that made it into obituaries, but the losses that live in private.

✅ The version of you that didn’t get to grow.

✅ The friendship that quietly unraveled.

✅ The approval you kept reaching for.

✅ The story you told about your worth, and how it no longer fits.

That grief matters.

And I invite folks to stop pretending it doesn’t.

I’m calling August Grieftender’s Month,

and I’m hosting a month-long grief ritual: ILID (I Let It Die) Grieftenders’ Course.

• Five Saturdays
• One sacred practice: letting go
• We’ll tend our grief together through story, ritual, and release.
• We’ll close out on National Grief Awareness Day, August 30th.

You are not wrong for still grieving what the world forgot to bury. And if you're still carrying it, maybe it’s time we laid it down.

Come grieve with me. Here are the details of the month-long ritual.