

We have all lost something in life — a job, friendships, or relationships. No one can truly prepare us for these losses. It’s something we only begin to understand when it happens to us. There is no playbook or step-by-step plan. Just the pain: of longing, of betrayal, of heartbreak.
I have seen people deal with grieving friends in different ways. Some will tell you to stop thinking and focus on what’s in front of you — a life full of countless possibilities. Others will hold space for you, allowing you to vent, grieve, and feel validated. Going through my own experience, I’m realising that the best thing we can do — for themselves or for another — is to allow all the chaos, emotions, and frustrations to flow through. Only then can we rise like a phoenix from the ashes of our past.
When we face loss, we experience a whirlwind of emotions. They arrive in waves — easier one day, messier the next. One thing is clear: we can’t box these emotions. We need to go through catharsis. We need to feel the feelings, sit in their discomfort, until they stop holding sway over us. It works much like naming our emotions: when we identify them, they stop controlling us. They become part of our story, something that shaped us, while we take back ownership of our life.
Another truth to accept is that loss is unavoidable. It can happen at any time, to anyone. What matters is not how to prevent it, but how to respond when it comes. To believe we are running the show or can somehow prepare perfectly is an illusion. What we can do is approach it with love and maturity, asking: What is this situation teaching me?
I also believe deeply in the power of empathy. There is such a lack of it these days — especially around job loss or heartbreak. Friends going through these experiences don’t need trite reassurances like “life goes on” or “stop overthinking.” They need emotional support. Sit with them. Let them tell their story, even if it feels inconsequential. Listen. Hold their hand or give them a hug if they need one. That is when we truly help someone in their misery.
People are smart enough to figure out what’s right for them. They will eventually arrive at their own conclusions. But when we hold space for them through difficulty, that shared understanding makes them feel seen, heard, and less alone in the chaos.
People are wired to grieve differently too. Some deflect and move on. Others overthink, analyse, and dissect. Different processes don’t make one approach right and the other wrong — they’re just different. With every type of personality, no single way of grieving works. We have to meet someone at the depth of their pain — stand in their shoes, see the world through their eyes. Only those who take the time and energy to do that can truly help someone through the darkest times.
I have always seen rejection as divine protection. When we zoom out and look at life from a higher vantage point, we realise that every painful memory, every loss, was leading us toward something better than we could have imagined.
The thing about painful events is that they almost always chip away the illusion of control and force us to question everything. Sometimes that questioning is necessary. In those questions lie the answers that lead us to fulfilment and joy. Too often we are sleepwalking through routines, jobs, and relationships without considering whether they truly serve our highest good. It’s through these events that we finally shed the old and walk toward the new.
I’ll leave you with this: Life is a beautiful ride. No one knows the destination, but it is full of wonder and amazement. Some twists and turns will hurt, but they will also help your soul evolve in ways you never imagined. Let those events happen. Let them trigger all the pain in the world. Then, alchemise that pain into strength — into building a better you. After all, its the fire of pain that forges the strongest diamonds in the world.
P.S.: I’d love to hear your thoughts or experiences. Please share if you feel called to.





