The Best Thing You Can Do for Yourself When You’re Facing Adversity From Loss and Are Grieving

Written By Melissa Hull

The best thing you can do for yourself when you’re facing adversity from loss and are grieving is to stay close to yourself. That might sound too simple, maybe even cliché. But I’m not talking

about bubble baths or affirmations or self-help slogans plastered over a sunset. I’m talking about

something deeper. Something messier. And something more powerful than people usually give credit to.

I’m talking about presence.

Because when the bottom falls out , when your world becomes the “after” of a loss that has changed everything, your nervous system doesn’t care about how strong you were yesterday.

Your heart doesn’t need you to be impressive or articulate. Your spirit doesn’t want a productivity checklist. It wants safety. Softness. Witness. And more than anything… it wants you. Fully. Honestly. Without pretending.

And if there’s one thing I know about grief, it’s this: the further we drift from ourselves, the harder the healing gets.

No One Prepares You for the Silence

When my son Drew passed, I wasn’t just grieving a mother — I was grieving the entire shape of my life. My identity. My sense of meaning. There’s a silence that comes after loss that no one warns you about.

The kind that hums through a house that used to be filled with laughter and chaos and footsteps… and suddenly, it’s still. The kind that echoes when someone asks “How are you?” and the answer is too layered to even say out loud.

That silence is where grief lives.

And it’s in that silence , where so many of us try to distract, numb, bypass, or perform — that’s the moment the deepest work actually begins. Not the kind of work you grind through. The kind you feel your way through.

And if you’re not anchored to yourself in that process, the grief will try to anchor you to something else: guilt, shame, isolation, or even a narrative that tells you you’re broken beyond repair.

Grief Will Try to Convince You You’re the Problem

Here’s something I wish more people understood: grief doesn’t just hurt. It lies.

It tells you things like:

“You should be further along by now.”

“You’re a burden to the people around you.”

“You’ll never feel joy again, so why even try?”

“If you were stronger, this wouldn’t feel so hard.”

And the truth is… that voice? That isn’t you. That’s your pain, wearing your voice like a mask.

And the best thing you can do for yourself in those moments is refuse to abandon yourself to the story of your suffering.

It’s not about pretending everything’s okay. It’s about remembering that the part of you that hurts isn’t all of you. There’s still a whole you — capable, creative, and worthy just beneath the ache.

Stay With the Version of You That’s Still Breathing

When we experience loss — whether it’s a child, a spouse, a relationship, a dream, a version of ourselves — something in us wants to freeze in place. To stop time. To collapse inward. That’s a natural trauma response. But it’s not where your story ends.

There is a version of you who survives the loss — even when you don’t want to. Even when you don’t know how. That version of you still brushes your teeth, still answers emails, still shows up for other people while barely holding it together.

That version of you deserves your compassion.

We often show up for others with kindness and tenderness, while speaking to ourselves in tones we’d never use on someone we love. The best thing you can do when you’re grieving is to reverse that pattern. Speak gently to yourself. Let your own inner voice become a safe place to Land.

You’re not weak for needing that. You’re human.

Adversity Doesn’t Mean You’re Doing It Wrong

One of the cruelest myths in the grief and healing world is that when things feel hard, it must mean you’re failing.

But what if the opposite is true?

What if adversity is a sign you’re being initiated into a deeper version of yourself? Not because pain is inherently transformative — but because you are. Because inside of you is a wisdom that doesn’t just want to survive this .. it wants to grow through this.

I’ve come to believe that the goal isn’t to get back to who we were before the loss. That version of us didn’t have the capacity to hold this level of heartbreak, or this level of insight. The goal is to become the person who can carry both.

Grief and growth.

Pain and purpose.

Devastation and dignity.

All at once.

Let the Right People Witness You

Another thing no one tells you? Grief changes your relationships.

Some people won’t know how to be with your pain. They’ll rush you. Avoid you. Say the wrong thing. Or disappear altogether. And while that hurts, it’s not a reflection of your worth. It’s a reflection of their capacity.

But there will be people, even if it’s just one, who can sit with you in the mess. People who don’t try to fix you or analyze you, but simply witness you. Who see the tears and the tiredness and the trying, and say: “You’re doing better than you think.”

If you haven’t found those people yet, don’t give up. Keep looking. You deserve support that’s genuine and real. You deserve safe connection that doesn’t come with strings.

And while you’re finding them… be one of those people to yourself.

You Don’t Have to “Move On” to Move Forward

One of the most misunderstood ideas around grief is the phrase “moving on.”

But I don’t believe in moving on. I believe in moving with.

I carry Drew with me every single day. Not in a tragic way — in a reverent one. His memory, his energy, his impact on my life, they’ve shaped everything I do. I didn’t leave him behind in order to heal. I include him in my healing.

Grief doesn’t go away. It evolves. It softens. It makes space for joy when you’re ready. And when you allow it to be part of your life instead of fighting it like an enemy, you unlock a kind of freedom that no one talks about enough.

The freedom to feel everything — without shame.

The freedom to rewrite your narrative — without guilt.

The freedom to dream again — without apology.

The Body Remembers, So Let It Heal

Grief doesn’t just live in your mind. It lives in your nervous system, your hormones, your digestion, your immune response. It impacts your sleep, your posture, your breathing patterns. That’s why you’re tired all the time, why you can’t concentrate and why joy feels so far away.

You’re not broken. You’re dysregulated.

And one of the most powerful things you can do for yourself is to begin tending to your body the way you would tend to a child who is overwhelmed.

Breathe slowly.

Drink water.

Stretch gently.

Rest often.

Take breaks from overstimulation.

Cry without needing a reason.

Give yourself the kind of care that doesn’t demand that you have to pretend to be in an emotional state that isn’t real or honest — just be present with yourself. That’s enough.

Joy Isn’t a Betrayal

This one took me a long time to learn.

After a loss, it can feel wrong to smile. Wrong to laugh. Wrong to enjoy a moment, or want something beautiful again. As if somehow, grief and joy can’t coexist. As if feeling good means you’ve forgotten the person you lost.

But that’s just another lie grief tells.

Because the truth is, joy honors what was lost just as much as sorrow does. Joy says, “Your love made my life brighter. And I choose to carry that brightness forward.” That’s not betrayal. That’s reverence.

And it’s brave.

So don’t push away the moments that make you feel alive. Don’t apologize for the things that light you up. Let joy come, even if it feels unfamiliar. Even if it feels unsteady. Let it sit beside your grief like a guest at the table.

They both belong.

You Are More Than What You’ve Lost

Grief has a way of narrowing our identity to the wound. We start seeing ourselves as “the woman who lost her child,” or “the man whose wife passed,” or “the person who got left.” And while those titles may describe a chapter, they are not the whole book.

You are not just what happened to you.

You are who you chose to become after.

You are the courage it takes to keep showing up. You are the softness it takes to let yourself feel. You are the strength it takes to start again, even when it’s terrifying. And more than anything… you are still becoming. You haven’t missed your moment. You’re not too late. Your life didn’t end with your loss — it’s asking to be reborn.

Not in spite of the grief, but through it.

If you’re reading this and you’re in it , the heavy fog, the numbness, the anger, the ache — I want you to hear me when I say: You are not alone. You are not failing. You are not broken.

You are grieving.

And grief is not a problem to solve , it’s an experience to move through. One breath, one choice, one heartbeat at a time.

So the best thing you can do for yourself isn’t to rush. It isn’t to fix. It isn’t to prove how strong you are.

The best thing you can do… is stay with yourself.

Because even now…especially now… you are worthy of love, peace, and a future that feels bigger than your grief.

And I promise, that future IS possible.

Sending you maximum strength and love,

Melissa

I’d love to keep the conversation going. Whether you’re looking for free resources, inspiration, healing tools, or want to dive deeper through my courses and podcast — there’s a space for you here:

Wherever you are on your healing journey, know that you’re not alone.

Melissa Hull
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