You Will Be Okay. Not Because Life Owes You Anything...

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We all deal with grief in different ways.

Some turn to alcohol.
Some to food.
Some to silence.
And others—like me—turn to distraction.
We throw ourselves into projects, hobbies, or work that makes the pain feel just a little quieter.

Mine is this blog.
It’s my outlet, my therapy, my escape, my hope.

I tell myself, “If this blog works… if it finally becomes something real… then maybe I’ll feel better. Maybe I’ll finally breathe again.”

But I’m still in that in-between place.
Still waiting.
Still hoping.
Still hurting.


Every day I wake up and remind myself:
“I’m building something. I’m not doing nothing. I’m trying.”

Yes, I miss them—
My sister. My brother. My father.
Some days it feels unbearable.

But I believe…
That if this blog takes off, I won’t just be financially okay…
I’ll be emotionally lighter too.
The pain won’t vanish, but maybe… just maybe… it won’t scream as loud anymore.

I want this blog to reach someone—
Someone grieving, someone broken, someone searching for answers like I am.
I want them to stumble across it and walk with me…
Step by step…
So they don’t feel alone.


That hope?
That’s what gets me out of bed.

But I won’t lie—
Some days, it’s harder than others.

Some days, I ask myself, “What if it never works?”
What if I’m chasing healing through something that might never bloom?
Would I be grieving all over again—grieving the dream that didn’t save me?

It’s terrifying.

And then there are the days that hurt in ways I don’t expect.


Like the time I visited a friend…
And I watched them laugh, hug, and joke with their full, happy family.
And it ached.
Not because I’m not happy for them…
But because I remember.

I remember who’s missing from my life.
I remember the laughter I don’t get to hear anymore.
I remember my sister—Empress—who died on a Wednesday.

And just four days later, on a Saturday, I stood at a wedding.
My best friend’s elder sister was getting married.
A beautiful celebration.

But all I could think was: “What if that was my sister?”
She’d never have her big moment.
I’d never get to be that proud brother.
She was gone.

And I was supposed to smile.

This is grief.

Grief doesn't care if it's been months or years.
It hits in waves.
In random moments.
In the middle of joy.
Right after peace.

And yet, I keep going.

Not because I believe life owes me something.
It doesn’t.


Life can be unfair. It is unfair.
But I still keep going.

Because I’m strong.
Because you are strong.

And even when you feel like you’re falling apart, you’re not starting from zero.
You're starting from experience.
You're starting from everything you’ve already survived.

Every time you get out of bed,
Every time you breathe through a breakdown,
Every time you choose to believe that something better might come—

That’s healing.

That’s progress.

So if you're reading this, and you feel like you're drowning in your grief, let me tell you:

You will be okay.




Not because life owes you anything...
But because you are still here.
Still fighting.
Still dreaming.

Even if you're healing in baby steps,
One day, they won’t feel like baby steps anymore.


For Empress, always.

— Jaes

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