7 Ways You May Be Healing Without Even Knowing It
When I lost my mother, I didn’t just lose her presence ...I lost the anchor of who I was and the compass of where I thought I was headed. As an only child with little support, I walked through grief alone, carrying a weight that felt impossible to hold. And yet, over time, I discovered something surprising: even in the silence, even without a roadmap, even without the support I deserved, healing was happening. Quietly. Subtly. Almost without me realizing it.
There is no timetable for grief. There is no prescribed order. Despite what we may have been told, healing does not follow neat stages or tidy chapters. It’s messy, it’s unpredictable, and it’s deeply personal. What I’ve learned — through lived experience — is that healing often looks like ordinary moments that we don’t recognize as healing at all.
Here are seven gentle ways you might already be healing, even if you don’t see it:
1. Keeping Rituals Alive
When I cooked my mother’s recipes or lit a candle in her memory, I didn’t realize I was doing the work of grief. Rituals are not just traditions; they are small acts of love that keep connection alive. Each one whispers: “She is still with you.”
2. Allowing Joy to Creep Back In
The first time I laughed after her passing, I felt guilty. How could I feel joy in the shadow of so much loss? But joy, even in tiny doses, is not betrayal. It is a sign that my soul was making space for light amid the heaviness. If you’ve smiled at a memory, laughed at a joke, or simply enjoyed a sunrise ...that’s healing.
3. Leaning Into Creativity
For me, creativity has become one of the most unexpected pathways to healing. Blending bath salts, handcrafting loofah soaps, and curating foot soaks has given me not just an outlet but a way to pour love and intention into something tangible. Each creation is more than a product, it’s a ritual of care, a way of honoring both my own journey and the women who, like me, are searching for softness in the midst of sorrow.
4. Caring for Others
Grief can make us feel emptied out, but I’ve found strength in pouring into others. Leading The Heart of Miss Bee, Inc. — an organization dedicated to offering resources and community for women who feel unsupported on their grief journey is part of my healing. In helping others find comfort, I am reminded that my pain can have purpose, and my mother’s love can ripple forward into the lives of others.
5. Creating Quiet Moments for Myself
There were days I couldn’t do much more than sit with a cup of tea or lie still in silence. At first, I thought this was weakness. But I came to realize it was my body’s way of saying: “I need space to recover.” Choosing rest, solitude, or even a slow walk is not giving up --- it is hidden self-compassion.
6. Telling Her Stories
Whenever I shared a memory of my mother — whether with friends, family, or just quietly in my own heart , I was healing. Every story retold was a way of keeping her love alive, a balm that softened the sting of absence. Stories stitch the fabric of our lives back together.
7. Allowing Time to Do Its Work
This is perhaps the hardest to notice. Healing doesn’t arrive with trumpets or clear milestones. It’s in the way the tears flow a little less fiercely, or the way a memory can bring a smile instead of only pain. Every day you breathe through grief, you are healing — even if it doesn’t feel like it. Time is not a cure, but it is a gentle companion that softens the sharpest edges.
The Road I’m On Now
As I look back, I can see how these small, almost invisible acts helped me survive what I thought was impossible. They carried me forward, piece by piece, toward rediscovery — of who I am now without my mother, and who I am becoming because of her love that will never leave me.
If you are grieving, especially if you’ve had to grieve alone, I want you to know this: you are already healing, even when it doesn’t feel like it. Healing hides in the ordinary. It lives in the quiet. And it reveals itself slowly, in ways that may only become clear when you look back.
There’s no deadline. There’s no right way. There’s only your way. And your way is enough.