My Life Changed. Why Doesn’t Anyone See It?

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My favorite person died. And everything just… flipped. Upside down. Inside out. The world I thought I knew? Gone. And somehow, everyone around me expects me to act like nothing happened. Like I’m still the same person I was before. But I’m not. I can’t be.


I move differently now. I think differently now. I feel differently now. My priorities? They’ve completely shifted. My personality? It’s not the same. Grief doesn’t just touch a part of you—it reshapes everything. And when someone you love disappears, the world you knew disappears too.


It’s hard when people don’t get it. When they talk to you like the old version of yourself is still there, laughing, joking, responding the way they remember. They don’t see that inside, you’re broken. That the smallest things—memories, reminders, even silence—hit harder than anything else. That your life has been rewritten in ways nobody can understand unless they’ve felt it too.


I remember trying to keep it together around people who didn’t understand. Pretending I was fine, nodding, smiling, even joking sometimes. And inside, I was falling apart. My heart felt like it had been ripped out, and no one noticed. It was lonely. So lonely. You can feel surrounded by people and still be completely alone because the ones who matter, the ones who truly see you, are gone.


Sometimes people respond with impatience. Or they make offhand comments. Or worse—they act like your grief is inconvenient. It’s like they want you to stop feeling, to stop changing, to stop being the person your loss made you. And that hurts even more than the grief itself. Because your heart is already heavy, and now you’re carrying the weight of being misunderstood, invisible, and expected to perform like you’re normal.


I’ve tried explaining it. I’ve tried asking people to meet me where I am. And sometimes, they just can’t. Some people don’t want to see your pain. Some people don’t know how. Some people just keep acting like the old world still exists—and it doesn’t. And that’s okay. It’s okay that they can’t. What matters is that you can see yourself. That you can honor your own change. That you can grieve, feel, and grow without apology.


So if you’re reading this, feeling like no one notices your grief, your growth, your change—know this: it’s okay. You don’t have to be the person you were before. You don’t have to hide your feelings. You don’t have to apologize for being changed. Grief is personal. Change is personal. And just because it isn’t obvious to the outside world doesn’t make it any less real.


You’re surviving. You’re growing. You’re living in a world that feels different, and that takes strength. Even if no one sees it, even if no one says it, even if you feel completely alone in it—what you’re feeling, what you’re becoming, what you’re carrying inside… it matters. You matter. Your life matters. And your heart, even broken, is still alive.


Because this is the truth: life doesn’t stop for anyone’s expectations. And neither should you.


For Empress, always.

— Jaes

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