There's no timeline, no right or wrong way. These prompts offer gentle companionship on your journey.
By Joleen C, Women's Reclamation Facilitator
Grief has no timetable or rules, and it can come with a whirlwind of emotions. Journaling provides a safe, private space to express and make sense of those feelings. Writing about grief has been shown to help regulate emotions and even reduce anxiety and overwhelm. The prompts below are gentle invitations; take them at your own pace, and use them in any order that feels right:
Take a deep breath and notice how you feel right now. Give yourself permission to feel whatever is present, without judgment. What emotions are you experiencing today, and where do you feel them in your body? Write about your feelings as they are, whether it's sadness, anger, numbness, confusion, even moments of peace, and note any physical sensations (tight chest, teary eyes, calm breathing, etc.). Simply acknowledging "this is how I am right now" can be a healing first step.
Gently reflect on how life looks different after your loss or during this transition. What are some everyday things that have changed, and which moments of the day feel the hardest now? Write about your new reality, whether it's a quiet house at dinnertime, a routine that's been interrupted, or an empty space where someone or something used to be. It's okay if this is painful. Take your time, and remember that noticing what's different is part of understanding your grief.
If you've lost someone (or something important, like a job or a phase of life), try writing a short letter addressing that person or thing. What do you wish you could tell them, or what do you want to say about how life has changed? You might express gratitude, anger, love, or anything at all that's on your heart. This letter is just for you. You don't have to hold back. (If you're not ready to write to the person or thing you lost, you could instead write a letter to yourself, offering compassion as you grieve.)
Think of a positive memory that brings a small smile, maybe a warm moment with the person you lost, or a time you felt peaceful before this transition. Write about that memory in detail: Where were you, what were you doing, and how did it feel? Let the emotions come, whether it's bittersweet happiness, gratitude, or sadness that it's past. Sometimes revisiting a happy memory can remind you that your grief exists because of the love or meaning that came before it.
Draw a line down the middle of a journal page. On one side, list the things you miss most about who or what you lost, big or small. On the other side, list things you're thankful for because of that person or experience (for example, "She taught me how to garden," or "I'm grateful I had 10 years at that job to grow my skills"). Now, in a few sentences, reflect on these two lists. How does seeing what you miss alongside what you appreciate affect your feelings? You might notice both lists are heartfelt expressions of love and value. Allow yourself to hold gratitude and sorrow together, if you can, and note that it's okay to feel both.
It's common to have thoughts about how you should be handling grief (for example, "I should be over this by now," or "I shouldn't feel angry"). Take a moment to bring to mind any expectations or "shoulds" you've been telling yourself about your grieving process. Write down each one that comes up. Now, gently challenge those ideas: Where do they come from (your own belief, something someone said, societal pressure)? What do you truly need right now, as opposed to what you think you should need or feel? Respond to each "should" with a more compassionate thought (e.g., "Everyone heals in their own time," or "It's natural to feel angry after loss"). Let this be a reminder that your grief is yours, and there is no "right" way to do it.
It might be hard to see it now, but consider the possibility that time will ease some of your pain. Picture yourself in the future, maybe a year or two from now, who has lived with this loss and found some healing. What kind of gentle reassurance or advice might that future-you offer to you today? Write as if your future self is speaking: perhaps reminding you to eat and rest, or telling you that it's okay to feel happiness again someday, or simply saying "You will get through this, even if it's hard." Sometimes imagining a wiser, healed version of ourselves can offer comfort in the present.
Grief can be overwhelming, so focusing on just one day or one moment at a time is often enough. What is one small thing you can do today that might bring a flicker of comfort or peace? It could be as simple as taking a short walk, calling a supportive friend, lighting a candle in honor of what you lost, or journaling about your feelings (which you're doing right now, and that itself is an act of healing). Write down your chosen small step. Describe why you picked it and how you feel before doing it (for example, anxious, unsure, hopeful). After you've done it (or even just imagined doing it), write about how it felt. Remember that in deep grief, tiny steps are brave acts of care, and each one is enough.