The Myths Around Grief Series: Myth 2 "Replace the Loss"

Don't be fooled by this cute squirrel. If your daughter wanted to keep it as a pet, you would've done what I did, too! 😳

Or maybe not.

It's a long story, but one summer my daughter met a squirrel who jumped into her lap and wouldn't leave her side. 

She attached herself to it immediately and wanted to keep it with her indoors so badly. 🐿️✨

😳 

To which I said… “Um, No way! Squirrels are NOT indoor pets.”

The squirrel had to go—mostly because I knew I'd be it's caretaker after a week, and I didn't want a squirrel?!—and I made her put it back outside.

And that crushed her soul for weeks.💔

So what did I do? 

I told her I'd buy her cat. 🤷🏾‍♀️

And I did! Which was a big mistake. That cat became a thorn in my side for many years. 🙄

But I'm getting ahead of myself. ⤵️

Are you ready to jump back into the “Myths Around Grief” series, friend?

Maybe you missed it a couple week's ago, but for the next few weeks I'm gonna do something a little different from the normal Saturday Sigh vibe. 

I'm going to be sharing insights about the six most common and widespread myths people have about grief. 🗣️

We've already discussed the first one—don't feel bad. 

If you missed it, I would really encourage you to go back and read this blog.

Even if you're not grieving or know someone who is, please don't count yourself out of these emails. I promise there's lots of good nuggets in here for you, too! 

So let's get to it! 

Myth #2: Replace the Loss

I hate to say it, but this myth—aka this widespread, but false belief—is pervasive!

How does it show up? 🤷🏾‍♀️

In statements like these:

❌ "We can get another pet."

❌ “You need to go out another date to get your mind off of…”

❌ “… at least you have other children. They need you. Focus on them.”

🫣

Recognize any of these statements or made any of them yourself? 🙋‍♀️🙋‍♂️

It's okay if you have. It's not all your fault. 🫶🏾

We've been conditioned by society to make these statements and accept them as completely normal. 👎

Not only that, there are few spaces that expose the toxicity behind such expressions.

Not so here! 

If you're in this space, your heart has a desire speak healing rather than harm; so let's consider a few things together.

1️⃣ Can you hear the tone of “don't feel bad” intertwined with the suggestion to replace the loss?

I almost mashed these two myths up into one email, but wanted to give them each their due.

However, these myths are typically coupled together. 

There's usually a preceding statement that suggests the grieving individual's pain is “not that deep," therefore they should just move on to the next best thing. 👎

a.k.a, “It's just a squirrel! Here's a cat instead!”

BUT… this common response pattern doesn't acknowledge the uniqueness of the relationship with the lost person, pet, or place. 

Even if I didn't understand why, my daughter loved that squirrel. It touched her heart in a special way that no animal ever has. I wish I had honored that.

2️⃣ While these statements can hold a grain of truth, they're still destructive.

Loss is a teacher for the human heart. ❤️‍🩹

It's okay to let people sit in their feelings and truly feel the depth of their pain. 

We live in a culture of quick fixes, but grief rushes for no one. 

Urging someone to find a new shiny object to divert them from their pain isn't loving or helpful to them in the long run. 

Let's use my parenting fail again. 😅

Instead of distracting my daughter through the purchase of a new pet, I should've sat with her, let her feel her feelings for as long as it took for them to run their course, and then made a decision about how to proceed.

That would've been honoring to her loss.

I didn't do that, though. And as I said above, it backfired on me. My daughter never bonded to the replacement cat, which caused other issues in our home.

The truth is people will have to deal with their emotions one way or another. 

Emotions, like the truth, always have a way of coming to the surface. 

3️⃣ So let's strive to be the compassionate friend, parent, or family member who helps others process their pain, not avoid it. 

This, to me, is the definition of holding space for someone going through loss: we allow them to process how and what they need to without judgment. 

We don't offer them a cat; we hold space for what the squirrel meant to them.

It's crucial to recognize and challenge the myth of replacing loss as a grief management strategy.

Urging others to move on quickly can unintentionally dismiss their pain and the unique bond they had with what they lost.

Remember, grief is a journey that cannot be rushed, and our role is to walk alongside those who are grieving, offering empathy and understanding.  

Is there someone in your life you can show that kind of empathy to this weekend? 

If the answer is yes, may I urge you to hold space for their squirrel and forget about offering them a cat. 😸