It Still Hurts. But These 25 Things Helped
Look, I’m no different than you.
I cracked wide open when I lost my mom almost seven years ago. Even while typing this, I still can’t believe I’ve made it this far, but I have. And let me keep it real it wasn’t just because I was strong or faithful or surrounded by love. Some days, I had none of that. What I did have? A deep ache and the realization that I had to figure out how to live with it.
On my grief journey, I tried all kinds of things to “feel better.” Support groups. Solo dates. Traveling. Journaling. Some things helped. Others just made me more tired. But the quiet truth that nobody says out loud is this:
You’re going to have to learn how to make yourself feel better.
There are going to be days where it’s just you and your broken heart and your tears. And you’re going to have to figure out how to self-soothe, how to mother yourself, and how to give your grief room but not the whole house.
I learned by yearning. I learned in silence. I learned by trying.
For me, creating helped. Art helped. Floating in the pool helped. Writing helped. And while none of it erased the pain, it eased it. It made carrying it bearable. And when you discover that thing—your thing—that lifts the weight even just a little, you’ll start to reclaim joy. Piece by piece.
So here’s a list. No fluff. No pressure. No deadlines. Just 25 ways to make your grieving self feel better. Try one. Try three. Come back to them when you need to.
25 Ways to Make Your Grieving Self Feel Better
Take a bath so luxurious Cleopatra would be jealous. (Add salts, flowers, candles, music—the whole vibe.)
Write your mama a letter. Say everything. Say nothing. Just write.
Buy yourself the flowers. Big, bright, dramatic ones.
Start a playlist that reminds you of her. Or one that makes you dance like she used to.
Make a meal she loved. Cook with your heart, not for perfection.
Go outside and let the sun touch your face. Even if it’s just 10 minutes.
Create something—anything. Paint, craft, rearrange a shelf. Beauty heals.
Cry in the car. Yep. That counts. A release is a release.
Buy a candle that smells like comfort. Light it when your soul gets heavy.
Take yourself out to lunch. Sit by a window and order dessert first.
Start a grief journal. Keep it messy, keep it raw.
Wear something of hers. Jewelry, perfume, a scarf. Let her spirit hug you.
Tell someone what you need. Yes, even if it’s just, “Please listen.”
Book the massage. You are holding so much. Let it go.
Declutter one thing. That corner, that drawer. Start small.
Do something childlike. Blow bubbles. Color. Watch cartoons. Lightness helps.
Make a grief box. Fill it with notes, photos, mementos. Visit when needed.
Read a book where the character also lost someone. Feel seen.
Make Sunday sacred again. Soft music, tea, a book, no errands.
Name what you miss. Out loud. In writing. To the sky.
Wear lipstick or lashes or both. Grief but make it glam.
Talk to her. Don’t worry about how it sounds.
Start a ritual. Maybe light a candle every month on the day she passed.
Try therapy. For real. You don’t have to figure this out alone.
Let joy in. Even if it sneaks in quietly. Let it stay.
I share these thoughts not as a professional, but as someone who has lived it, wept through it, rebuilt from it.
Kinyatta
Founder, The Heart of Miss Bee, Inc.