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You are NOT a Burden: Permission to Feel Everything

Updated: Sep 15

Your grief matters. Your pain matters. And yes, your needs matter too. If you've been carrying the weight of feeling like you're "too much" for the people around you while you're grieving, I want you to know something right now: you are not a burden.


Maybe you've caught yourself apologizing for crying again. Perhaps you've noticed friends getting that uncomfortable look when you mention your loss for the third time this week. Or maybe you're holding back from asking for help because you worry you're being "needy." If any of this sounds familiar, you're not alone. And more importantly, you're not doing anything wrong.


Grief doesn't follow anyone else's timeline but yours. And your worth isn't measured by how quickly you "bounce back" or how quietly you process your pain.


Woman looks down and pulls back hair behind ear

What does it mean to not be a burden while grieving?


Being "not a burden" while grieving means understanding that your emotional needs, your healing process, and your timeline are valid and deserving of support. It means recognizing that asking for help, expressing your feelings, and taking space to process your loss are natural human needs, not impositions on others.


Why do so many people feel like burdens when they're grieving?


The messages start early and they're everywhere. "Stay strong." "Everything happens for a reason." "They're in a better place now." Sound familiar? These well-meaning phrases actually teach us that our grief should be contained, packaged neatly, and resolved quickly.


For BIPOC folks, there's often the added pressure of being the "strong" one in your family or community. Maybe you've heard versions of "We don't have time to fall apart" or "You need to keep it together for everyone else." These messages, while rooted in survival and resilience, can leave you feeling like your grief is selfish or indulgent.


If you're part of the LGBTQ+ community, your grief might feel even more complicated. Perhaps you're mourning someone who didn't accept your identity, or maybe your chosen family doesn't know how to support you through this loss. You might worry that your emotions are "too big" or that your way of grieving doesn't match what people expect.

Here's what I want you to know: your grief is not a character flaw. It's not a sign of weakness. It's proof that you loved deeply, and that love deserves to be honoured.


What happens when grief gets pushed underground?


When you constantly worry about being a burden, something painful happens. You start editing yourself. You apologize for your tears. You change the subject when someone asks how you're doing. You carry your pain alone because it feels safer than risking someone's discomfort.


But grief that gets pushed down doesn't disappear. It shows up in other ways: in your body, in your sleep, in your relationships, in your work. You might find yourself snapping at people you love, or feeling disconnected from your own life.


Let me share what I see happen when people give themselves permission to grieve openly. They start sleeping better. Their relationships actually get stronger because they're showing up authentically. They stop carrying that exhausting weight of pretending they're fine when they're not.


Your grief isn't something to get over or move past. It's something to move through, and that takes time, space, and support.


How can you honour your grief without feeling guilty?


Give yourself permission to feel everything. Your emotions don't need to make sense to anyone else. You might feel angry one day, sad the next, and numb the day after that. All of it is valid. You might miss someone terribly and also feel relief. You might grieve the person they were and the relationship you wished you'd had. Complex feelings don't make you complicated; they make you human.


Set boundaries around your energy. You don't owe anyone a performance of being "better." If someone asks how you're doing and you don't have the energy to explain, it's okay to say "I'm taking it one day at a time" or "It's hard right now, but I'm managing." You can choose who gets access to your full story.


Ask for what you need, specifically. Instead of waiting for people to guess what would help, try being direct. "Could you sit with me while I sort through these photos?" "Would you mind bringing dinner on Thursday?" "I need to talk about my mom for a few minutes. Is now a good time?" People often want to help but don't know how.


Find your people. Not everyone will understand your grief, and that's okay. Look for the ones who can sit with your pain without trying to fix it. These might be friends, family members, support groups, or a counsellor who gets it. You deserve people who can witness your whole experience without making it about their comfort.


Key reminders as you move through grief:

• Your timeline is your own, regardless of what others expect

• Asking for help is not the same as being needy

• Your emotions don't need to be convenient for other people

• Grief changes but it doesn't end, and that's normal

• You can love someone and still feel complicated emotions about losing them

• Taking care of yourself isn't selfish, it's necessary

• Professional support isn't a sign of failure, it's a sign of wisdom


Two smiling men wearing hats backwards have their foreheads and noses touching.

What does healthy support look like when you're grieving?


Healthy support doesn't try to rush your process or minimize your pain. It shows up consistently, not just in the immediate aftermath of loss. It asks what you need instead of assuming. It can sit with your difficult emotions without trying to change them.


The right support also understands that grief isn't linear. You might have a good day followed by three hard ones. You might think you're doing better and then get knocked sideways by a song, a smell, or a date on the calendar. People who truly support you won't be surprised by this ebb and flow.


If you're not finding this kind of support in your current circles, please know that it exists. Sometimes we need to expand our community to include people who understand loss more deeply.


How do you know when it's time to seek professional support?


You don't have to wait until you're in crisis to reach out for help. If you're feeling isolated in your grief, if you're worried about being a burden, or if you're struggling to function in your daily life, talking with a grief counsellor can make a real difference.


Professional support isn't about fixing you or making your grief go away. It's about having a space where your experience is completely welcome, where you can explore all the messy, complicated parts of loss without worrying about anyone else's comfort.


As a therapist who works with BIPOC and LGBTQ+ folks, I understand that your grief might come with unique challenges. Maybe you're navigating family dynamics around identity and loss. Perhaps you're dealing with discrimination even while you're mourning. Or maybe you're processing complex relationships that don't fit into neat categories.


You deserve support that sees all of who you are and meets you exactly where you are in your grief journey.


What does moving forward look like when you stop seeing yourself as a burden?


Moving forward doesn't mean leaving your grief behind. It means learning to carry it with more ease and less isolation. It means building a life that has room for your loss and room for new experiences. It means finding ways to honour what you've lost while still engaging with what remains.


When you stop seeing yourself as a burden, you open up space for authentic connection. You allow people to support you, which often helps them feel more connected to you. You model for others that it's okay to need help, to feel deeply, and to take up space with your emotions.


Your healing doesn't just benefit you. It creates ripples that touch your family, your community, and the people who will come after you who are learning how to grieve.


Frequently Asked Questions


How long is too long to grieve? There's no "too long" when it comes to grief. While the intensity might shift over time, love doesn't have an expiration date, and neither does the sadness that comes with loss. Your timeline is your own.


What if my family thinks I should be "over it" by now? Families often have their own discomfort with grief that has nothing to do with you. You can honour their concerns while still honouring your own process. Sometimes this means having gentle but firm conversations about what you need.


Is it normal to feel guilty about asking for help? Yes, especially if you come from a background where self-reliance is highly valued. Asking for help isn't weakness; it's wisdom. We're meant to support each other through difficult times.


How do I know if someone is genuinely supportive or just being polite? Genuine support shows up consistently over time, asks specific questions about what you need, and doesn't try to rush your process. Polite support often feels performative and disappears after the initial crisis period.


If you're reading this and feeling seen, know that you don't have to carry your grief alone. Whether you're in Surrey, Coquitlam, the greater Vancouver area, or anywhere else, support is available both in-person and online.


Your grief matters. Your healing matters. And you matter.


If you'd like to explore how counselling might support you through your grief journey, I invite you to reach out for a consultation. Sometimes the first step toward feeling less alone is simply having a conversation with someone who understands.











 
 
 

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We are settlers occupying the stolen, unceded, ancestral territories of the xʷməθkwəy̓əm (Musqueam), Skwxwú7mesh (Squamish), Səl̓ílwətaʔ/Selilwitulh (Tsleil-Waututh), and S’ólh Téméxw (Stó:lō) peoples. We are committed to understanding the ongoing grief of colonization and decolonizing our practices in and out of the counselling room. 

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