Grief is Often More Than One Loss
There’s something I see over and over again in the quiet spaces of grief:
People feel like they have to justify how deeply they’re hurting.
We measure our pain against others:
Was my loss big enough? Should I feel this sad? Is mine worse than theirs, or is theirs worse than mine?
But the truth is:
Grief isn’t a contest.
There is no hierarchy of heartbreak.
If your pain feels like a ten, then it’s a ten.
Full stop.
You don’t owe anyone an explanation.
🕊 You Don’t Need to Negotiate Your Grief
You may have lost something others don’t see.
You may be grieving a person, yes—but also:
The version of you who felt safe before
A chapter of your life that closed without warning
A sense of identity that no longer fits
The dream of how it could have been
And sometimes, what hurts the most isn't the loss itself—
It’s the feeling that you have to prove it matters.
That’s what makes grief so lonely.
Not just what’s gone... but feeling unseen in the ache that follows.
💛 Your Pain Is Valid—Because You Are the One Living It
Only you know the path you’ve walked.
Only you have lived inside your body, your mind, your spirit—all these years.
No one else has been there for every moment.
So who could possibly measure your pain for you?
This is where self-compassion becomes sacred:
💬 What if you didn’t need someone else to witness it first for it to be real?
💬 What if your grief was allowed to be valid simply because it is yours?
🌙 There Is Wisdom in What You Feel
Grief shapes us.
Like a river carving through stone, it softens some parts of us, sharpens others.
It changes the landscape. Quietly. Permanently.
And that shift—the one you feel deep in your bones—
holds more wisdom than we’re often allowed to see.
But it’s there.
It’s in your emotional tides. Your patterns of love and loss.
Your need for space, or touch, or stillness.
It’s how you move through the world when the ground has fallen away.
✨ What If Your Birth Chart Could Help You Understand?
Not in the way pop horoscopes tell you.
Not in prediction or prescription.
But as a mirror.
A sacred map.
One that shows you how you tend to move through pain, memory, abandonment, loss, and healing.
Your chart doesn’t say who you’ll lose or when.
It says:
Here is how your heart grieves.
Here is how your soul remembers.
Here is what grounds you when life unravels.
Your Moon, your Saturn, your Chiron, your Nodes…
Even Venus. Even the elements and modes.
Each one holds clues about how you move through sorrow—and how you heal.
🌿 A Quiet Invitation
You don’t have to look outside yourself for validation.
Grief is not something to measure or compare. It is something to honor.
Let it be what it is.
Let it hurt where it hurts.
Let it teach you what it knows.
And if you ever feel curious about the patterns within your pain…
Look to the sky. Or better yet—look to the chart that carries the imprint of your soul.
Because your grief is not random.
It is yours. And that means it is sacred.
With love,
Debra