Disenfranchised Grief

I slid down onto the bathroom floor, cell phone tucked against my ear while tears streamed down my face. On the other end of the line, my husband did the best he could to comfort me. It had been an emotionally brutal season. Just months away from giving birth to our first child, a close family member had decided to cut ties with us and rushed into a third marriage. We were emailed after the wedding took place. I was devastated. Although we now know there’s a high likelihood that mental health was a contributing factor, at the time, our family member’s choices seemed primarily shocking and chaotic. This was someone I thought I knew, someone I’d counted on being there for support as I became a mother. The pain ached in a way that I felt every day. 

As the days without her added up, I encountered a new sort of unexpected pain: the pain of grieving deeply without having that pain recognized or acknowledged by the community around you. No one had died. There hadn’t been a funeral, so the normal social markers that tell us to check in on someone, bring them casseroles, or send caring cards weren’t there. And yet I was awash in grief just the same. 

There’s a name for this: disenfranchised grief. Unlike typical experiences with grief, disenfranchised grief adds a painful layer to the experience by isolating the grieving person from recognition and support. This type of grief is far more common than we realize and doesn’t necessarily involve a death. It can be triggered (as in my case) by the ending of a relationship, the loss of a job, a big move, illness, injury, or the death of a pet. In these cases, the grieving person may not be given any time off of work or school to cope with the loss and most of the people around them will not recognize that the person they care about is grieving unless they are explicitly told (Raypole, 2020).

At times, these forms of grief are even rejected or shamed. Someone may be urged to “get over” not being accepted into the college of their dreams, for example, or told that it’s not healthy for them to be so sad about the death of the family cat. This is also likely to occur if someone you love dies of suicide. Many individuals don’t know how to respond with those specifics in mind, but there is simple advice you can follow: treat it like any other death. Check in on the surviving family members, offer to take on a chore or two every month so you have a rhythm of seeing them (plus a reason to check in), and tell them you are there for them if they need someone (Raypole, 2020).

The final word on all this is that grief is valid and always deserves to be recognized regardless of what caused it. Not everyone will recognize it so if someone does, be honest with them. They might be the perfect person for you to lean on through this hard time.

Reference: Raypole, C. (2020). Disenfranchised grief: When no one seems to understand your loss. Healthline. Retrieved from https://www.healthline.com/health/mental-health/disenfranchised-grief#symptoms.

Challenges/Points:

  • Disenfranchised grief is when the people around you don’t recognize grief you are experiencing or actively shame you for feeling it. 

  • Disenfranchised grief is often experienced in connection to things like losing a job, illness, or the end of a relationship. 

  • If you think you might be experiencing disenfranchised grief, try to find one or two people who can actively support you through it.

Questions:

  • Do you think you’ve experienced disenfranchised grief? 

  • What does grief feel like to you? Where do you feel it in your body?

  • Who is someone you can turn to and talk about your grief with? 

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