Disenfranchised Grief: What to Do When Your Loss Feels Invisible

Even Grief That Feels Small, Hidden, or 'Not Enough' Deserves Tending To, and Compassion.

Disenfranchised grief can feel lonely, like being at the top of a mountain with no companions to give credit to the difficulty of your climb.

Hello friends and colleagues,

I hope you are having a lovely week thus far. Our topic today is one of particular interest and importance to me. And here’s why: people come to see me for deep grief work. Some of them know exactly what they’re coming in for: the death of a child, the kind of grief that splits life into a “before” and “after.” Others arrive unsure why they’re hurting so much. Something in their world has shifted: a friendship ended, a pregnancy was lost, a dream collapsed, and the pain feels outsized, even confusing. More often than not, what we discover together is hidden grief, what Kenneth Doka (1989) called “socially unrecognized or unsupported” grief.

Here’s the hard part: when your grief isn’t acknowledged, you carry two burdens at once: the loss itself and the pressure to minimize it. You may catch yourself thinking, “This shouldn’t matter so much,” or worrying others will see it as “silly” or “stupid.” But grief without witness is pain without validation. It doesn’t stop hurting just because no one else sees it.

In this post, I want to give voice and space for those hidden losses. We’ll explore what disenfranchised grief looks like, why it hurts so damn bad, and what actually helps you feel better in real time. If your loss mattered to you, it matters.

What is Disenfranchised Grief?

It's a common misconception that the only 'valid' grief is the sadness and yearning that comes after experiencing the death of someone we loved dearly. Here's the thing: if that were the case, then I truly believe society would actually do a better job of supporting grieving people than we currently do. Our society fails mourners precisely because we narrow the definition of what it means to grieve and what is 'appropriate' to grieve. We often struggle to witness to pain in our society. It's uncomfortable and gritty and requires people to step outside of themselves and their experiences and feelings in order to create room for the spiritual experience that is grieving, no matter what the impetus was.

Disenfranchised grief happens when someone's loss is unseen, minimized or stigmatized. From a brain perspective (O’Connor), grief is a learning process: your brain keeps reaching for the person, future, or identity it expected. When that bond breaks through death, miscarriage, a relationship ending, the brain has to update its map of reality. Without validation, that learning process takes longer and feels disorienting.

Here are some examples of grief that often go unnoticed:

• Miscarriage, infertility, birthing trauma, or perinatal loss

• Loss of a beloved pet

• A break-up, a situationship ending, a friendship fading out

• Changes in health, identity, or future dreams

• A job loss or unexpected retirement

• A faith shift

• A move

• The death of an ex-spouse or an abusive parent

What matters is the meaning the loss holds for you, not how it measures up on anyone else’s scale.

Why It Matters

Grief unseen is like physical pain without treatment. It lingers and compounds. If you feel unmet, unanswered, in your loss, you will feel the pain of abandonment on top of the yearning, sadness and depression that is present because of what is missing from your life. Remember, to your nervous system, abandonment can feel like a threat. If you don't want to feel bad forever, then you need to not feel alone forever. And we need to acknowledge the two layers of your pain: the loss and the invalidation.

From a brain perspective, grief is a ‘learning problem.' Your nervous system keeps reaching for what was lost or for what you never had, and without acknowledgment, that relearning takes even longer.

How Disenfranchised Grief Shows Up

When grief isn’t recognized, you don’t just feel the loss. You feel the vacuum around it. That gap shows up across emotions, thoughts, the body, behavior, and relationships.

Emotional Costs

• Shame or second-guessing (“Why am I this upset?”or "Most people don't seem to understand what I'm going through, so it must not be a big deal.")

• Irritability, short fuse, numbness, or sudden spikes of sadness.

• Ambivalence: wanting to talk about it and also wanting to hide away or be alone with it.

Thought Patterns

• Rumination and mental replay of what happened or what might’ve been.

• Self-doubt: “Am I overreacting?” “Does this even count?”

• Global conclusions (“I’m too much,” “I should be over it by now.”)

Body

• Sleep changes, fatigue, headaches, muscle tension.

• Stress loops after invalidating interactions (tight chest, shallow breath).

• Startle or hypervigilance when reminders pop up.

Try a Micro-reset: 60–90 seconds of paced breathing (inhale 4, exhale 6) before/after grief work or hard conversations.

Behavior

• Overfunctioning (fixing, caretaking, working late) or underfunctioning (avoidance, oversleeping, watching your comfort show on repeat, procrastination).

• Isolation to protect the grief from minimizers in your life.

• Compulsive Googling for proof that it “counts.”

Here's a tiny pivot: set a 10–15 minute container for grief tasks (journal, letter, ritual), then re-enter the day.

Relationships

• Over-explaining to earn legitimacy; feeling depleted when it doesn’t land.

• People-pleasing or pulling back from those who “don’t get it.”

• Resentment toward well-meaning “at least…” comments.

When you're dealing with minimizers, here are some boundary scripts:

• “I’m not looking for fixes, just a few minutes to be heard.”

• “This is important to me. Can you sit with me without trying to reframe it, or make it better?”

• “I’m going to skip this topic for now. It feels too raw.”

Red Flags for “Stuck” Grief (Consider Extra Support):

• Marked impairment in daily functioning beyond 1–2 months.

• Persistent self-blame, hopelessness, or relentless rumination.

• Strong physiological distress to reminders that isn’t easing with time and support.

Grief-informed therapy (including EMDR) can help the brain integrate the loss and reduce the intensity of your emotions.

What Helps (Practical Steps for Increasing your Bandwidth)

A. Name it.

• Script: “I’m grieving X. It matters to me.”

• Journal prompt: “What did this loss mean to me? What did it change?”

B. Choose witnesses wisely (quality > quantity)

• Identify 1–2 safe people/spaces (therapy, support group, spiritual mentor).

• Boundary script for the minimizers in your life: “I’m not looking for fixes. I just would like a few minutes to be heard. Are you available to listen?”

C. Create a small ritual with a beginning, middle, end

• Options: write a letter you won’t send, plant/stone/place marker, candle with a specific phrase, grieving music or movie scene playlist you retire after use.

• Keep it brief (5–15 minutes); repetition teaches the brain the new map (O’Connor).

D. Give the loss a form (containment)

• One-page “loss map”: what was lost, what remains, what needs care.

• Box or folder for objects/notes; decide review cadence (monthly/quarterly).

• Create an imaginary container in your mind where you can put grief or its negative emotional cousins or sharp memories, so you can function in the day to day moments. Tell the items in the container that you are coming back for them. You just need a little space right now.

E. Care for your nervous system and your body

• 60–90 seconds of paced breathing (inhale 4, hold for 4, exhale 6).

• Alternate nostril breathing

• Running in place or pretending to run in place if you feel jittery or anxious energy.

• TIPP emotion regulation skills (Temperature changes, Intense Exercise, Paced Breathing, Progressive Muscle Relaxation)

• Grounding through toe yoga. Not joking, try it! Next time you feel distressed put your feet on the floor and wiggle your toes back and forth and side to side. Notice how different you feel when you just pay attention to one part of your body.

• Gentle movement on hard days. Find ways to walk if you can. Walking is bilateral stimulation.

• Eat a protein, fat and carb at regular intervals throughout the day. Examples would be a jerky stick, with olives and some fruit. A balanced meal will help your blood sugar regulate and decrease your overall emotional reactivity.

What Doesn’t Help (and What to Do Instead)

• Comparing pain (“others have it worse”) → Both/And: My pain is real, and others suffer too.

• Arguing your case to minimizers → Protect your reps: share with one steady witness.

• Self-punishing for “not over it” → New frame: I’m learning to live with this.

• Doom-scrolling triggers → Containment: set a daily cutoff; use a 10–15 min grief container.

If You Love Someone with Disenfranchised Grief

Say:

• “I believe you.”

• “What did this mean to you?”

• “Do you want company or solutions?”

Avoid:

• “At least…,” fixes, timelines, silver linings, etc.

Do:

• Sit quietly; hold time.

• Offer a small task (drive, meal, errand).

• Support a simple ritual they choose.

If your grief has felt invisible, let this be your permission slip to be seen: it’s real because it’s yours. You don’t have to rank it, defer it, or defend it. Start small: name what was lost, choose one steady witness, create a brief ritual, and give your nervous system a few minutes of care per day. There’s no finish line here; the goal is function and relief, not “moving on.” With consistent, gentle reps, the brain does learn the new shape of your life, and the pain becomes more bearable, think less gunshot wound, more sensitive skin around a scar, over time.

If you want company in that process, I’m here. We can make space for the loss, reduce the cacophony of shame and second-guessing, and build real skills that actually help you feel better, whether through weekly therapy or focused EMDR work. When you’re ready, reach out. Your grief has a place with me, in my office, anytime.

Take Exquisite Care of Yourselves,

Megan