What No One Tells You About Grieving a Difficult Relationship

(When the loss brings more than just sadness)

Most people expect grief to look like sorrow.
Like missing someone deeply.
Like tears, tenderness, and longing.

But what if the person you lost… wasn’t always good to you?

What if the relationship was filled with mixed messages — or worse, abuse?
What if you’re feeling things like guilt, confusion, anger, or even relief?

That’s grief, too.
And it deserves to be honored.

Complicated grief is still real grief.

When the relationship was painful, inconsistent, or even harmful, grief can feel anything but straightforward.

You might find yourself thinking things like:

  • “Why am I grieving someone who hurt me?”

  • “I feel like I should be more sad… what’s wrong with me?”

  • “I didn’t even get to say what I needed to say.”

  • “They never told me what I needed to hear, and I’m left without closure.”

  • “Is it okay that I feel a little relieved they’re gone?”

If any of that sounds familiar — take a deep breath.

You’re not doing grief “wrong.”
You’re just grieving a loss that’s layered, messy, and hard to name.

The grief isn’t just about who they were — it’s about what you didn’t get.

When someone dies, we don’t just mourn the person.
We often mourn the version of the relationship we wish we had.

Maybe you longed for a parent who was nurturing, but instead got someone critical or cold.
Maybe you hoped an estranged sibling would eventually change — but now, the door feels closed.
Maybe you were harmed, and never got the apology or accountability you deserved.

In this kind of grief, you’re mourning:

  • What could have been

  • What should have been

  • What was never safe enough to say out loud

You might be holding grief and anger at the same time.

And that’s okay.

You can grieve someone’s absence… and still feel angry about how they treated you.
You can miss what you hoped they’d become… and still feel relieved they can no longer hurt you.
You can feel compassion for their pain… and still name the ways they caused yours.

This is the deep work of untangling:
Who they were
from
What you needed
from
What you deserved and didn’t get

It’s not easy — but it’s powerful.

Your grief might be quieter. More internal. Less understood.

When someone dies and the world expects mourning, but you’re feeling something else, it can feel isolating.

Others might speak about them like a saint.
They might say, “But they were your [parent/spouse/family member]!”
They might not know the truth — or not want to hear it.

You might feel the need to stay silent, to perform grief in a way that feels “appropriate.”

But you don’t owe anyone a performance.

Your truth matters.
Your experience matters.
You can grieve your way.

This kind of grief deserves support, too.

Grieving someone complicated is its own kind of trauma work.

It’s not about rewriting history or pretending it didn’t hurt.
It’s about honoring your story — fully, honestly, without minimizing or rushing.

And you don’t have to do that work alone.

If you're carrying a grief that feels hard to explain — I'm here.
You deserve a space where your pain won’t be dismissed, rushed, or shamed.
A space where both your heartbreak and your boundaries can be honored.

Let’s explore the complexity together.

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When Grief Feels Invisible: A Note for Women Who Have Lost a Baby