In this week’s episode of Grief Heals, we explore Chapter 5 of Mel Robbins’ book Let Them, which invites us to let them think bad thoughts about you.

And in true Grief Heals fashion, we’re holding that invitation through the lens of grief—not grief as death, but as love bringing nutrients to the soul, the kind that fosters new life, deep self-acceptance, and brave belonging.

Because let’s be real: So many of us were never taught that our loudness, our softness, our mess, our silence, our brilliance—were okay.

We were shaped, shamed, scolded, or celebrated only when we conformed.

And what got lost in all that shaping? Us.

So we talk about that in this episode:

The grief of being judged for who you are

The strategies you developed to belong (people-pleasing, perfectionism, shrinking, rebelling—not bad, just brilliant adaptations)

And the reclamation of your wholeness, not through force but through love

You don’t have to listen to receive something nourishing from this. Here are a few reflection prompts and tools you can use right now:

Reflection Prompts

Whether or not you press play, these are yours to hold.

When was a time you were judged for something beautifully unique about you?

What got lost in the aftermath? What strategy did you develop to stay safe?

What part of you are you still trying to manage or hide to avoid rejection?

Could that part be grieving not being celebrated?

What would it mean to let them judge you—and still love yourself?

What does that kind of freedom feel like in your body?

Practice: Letting Grief Nourish What Was Lost

Close your eyes.

Place a hand on your heart or belly.

Breathe in the phrase: We breathe the same air.

Breathe out: We belong to each other.

Let grief come like water, like wind, like the love you didn’t get then—but are giving to yourself now.

Want to listen?

This episode is full of tender stories, real-time revelations, and an honest look at how grief can meet us right where we are—even in our shame, our mistakes, our need to control.

Even in a too-loud voice or a scraped-up pair of jeans.

This week’s Grief Heals episode is a deep breath, a full exhale, and a tender look at what happens when our inner eight-year-old is still running the show in a very grown-up life.

I’m talking about Chapter 6 of Mel Robbins’ book Let Them, where she explores “grown-ups who throw tantrums”—and of course, I couldn't help but look at it all through the lens of collective grief.

Because here’s the thing: Most of us were never taught that our big emotions are welcome. We weren’t held when we were heartbroken. We were told to “toughen up,” “move on,” or “be good.”

And now?Now we’re walking around in adult bodies with young, un-met, un-witnessed parts of us still aching to be seen.

So in this episode, I share stories from my own life—some tender, some raw—of what it’s looked like to bump up against those unmet parts in myself, in others, and in the systems we live and work inside.

It’s been humbling. It’s been hard. And it’s been holy.

Even if you don’t listen right now (or ever), I want you to know this:

Every time you shut down, avoid conflict, blow up, people please, or retreat into silence… it’s not a moral failing. It’s an emotional pattern born from unmet grief.

And those patterns? They can be witnessed. Loved. Rewritten. Not overnight—but with time, care, and grief met with compassion.

This episode isn’t just about tantrums. It’s about what happens when we start to honor the sacred responsibility of tending to our losses.

Because yes, grief is love.

And love heals—it really does.

Oh—and something new is coming:

I’ll be starting a Let Them Book Club soon, walking through Mel Robbins’ book with you through a grief-heals lens—no pressure to read or be perfect. Just a chance to slow down together, reflect, and notice.

So if you’re curious, if you’re hurting, if you’ve ever found yourself wondering, why am I like this?—this episode is a loving place to begin.

Courageous,

We are living in a time where fear is being wielded to pull us apart—feeding the illusion that we are separate, that it’s us vs. them. But here’s the truth: We belong to each other. And love—real, courageous, unshakable love—asks us to remember that.

I know what it’s like to pull away when I feel misunderstood, to stay quiet when I long to speak, to convince myself that holding back is safer than being fully seen. Self-protection happens automatically—it’s wired into me. Maybe you feel it too.

I’m also discovering that every moment of self-protection is an opportunity. An invitation to pause, notice, and ask: What am I afraid of? What fear is feeding the illusion of separateness?

This episode is for those of us who refuse to be hardened by fear. Who are willing to meet our own discomfort, hold our own grief, and stay open anyway. Because when we stop fighting against fear and instead welcome it with curiosity, we find something powerful: the strength to stand together.

Fear tells me that safety means separation, that if I don’t risk vulnerability, I won’t get hurt. But I know now—that’s how I stay hurting. Real safety comes not from shutting down, but from learning to stand open-hearted in the discomfort, to receive love in new ways, to let myself be known.

I’m inviting you—those committed to love, to connection, to the messy, beautiful work of being fully human—to listen. This is about moving beyond self-protection, anger, and division. It’s about choosing to love fiercely, even when it’s hard. Especially when it’s hard.

Join me. Let’s remind each other what’s possible.

P.S. If you’re longing for a space to feel connected amidst the divide, join our free Healing Circle. The next one is tomorrow, Tuesday March 18 at 5:30 PM PST—a space to experience belonging, to grieve, to breathe, and to remember that we are not alone. You are welcome here. .

xoxo,

Lisa Michelle

We’re living in a world that’s working overtime to convince us we’re separate. That we’re alone. That we should be afraid of each other.

But I refuse to buy into that lie. And I know you do, too.

That’s why this week’s episode of Grief Heals is about something radical: remembering that we belong to each other.

Grief has been my greatest teacher in this. It has stripped away the illusion of individualism and shown me—without a doubt—that what happens to one of us, happens to all of us. We breathe the same air. Drink the same water. Walk the same earth. We are each other.

In this episode I share stories of how grief has woken me up—not just to my own heart, but to my neighbors, to the suffering of marginalized communities, to the undeniable truth that our healing is bound together.

And if you’re reading this, I know you feel it, too.

This isn’t just a podcast episode. It’s an invitation. To resist the division being spoon-fed to us. To stay open when the world tells us to shut down. To love fiercely, even when it’s uncomfortable.

If you don’t have time to listen, here’s something to sit with:

• Where has grief cracked me open to love more?

• How can I stand with and for people beyond my immediate world?

• Where is fear trying to close my heart, and how can I welcome my fear and keep my heart open?

And if you do listen, share it. Talk about it. Let’s be the ones who refuse to turn away.

We are the love revolution. And we need each other now more than ever.

P.S. If you’re longing for a space to feel connected amidst the divide, join our free Healing Circle. The next one is Tuesday March 18 at 5:30 PM PST—a space to experience belonging, to grieve, to breathe, and to remember that we are not alone. You are welcome here. .

There’s something powerful in remembering that we all breathe the same air. And that’s really what this latest episode of Grief Heals is about—the love we find when we step into our grief, especially collective grief.

Right now, there is so much division. So many lines drawn between “us” and “them.” And in that divide, grief is quietly doing its work—showing us what truly matters, revealing that we belong to each other.

In this episode, I share a story about a road trip, a broken-down truck, and a simple act of kindness that reminded me: Our people aren’t just family and friends. Our people are— people. Period. No matter where they’re from. No matter how different their lives may seem. We belong to each other.

To come together we must invest in loss. The loss of certainty and being “right” is painful, but only by investing in loss do we touch our genuine longing— longing for belonging, connection and love. Because grief isn’t just sorrow—it’s love in another form. And when we let ourselves invest in loss, we actually make room for healing, for growth, for deeper relationships.

For those of you working in social services, caregiving, or any role that serves others—this conversation is especially for you. The way we approach grief, the way we recognize our shared humanity, it changes how we show up for the people we serve. And, maybe more importantly, how we show up for ourselves.

So if you’ve been feeling the weight of division, the uncertainty of these times, or the personal aches of loss, this episode is an invitation—to breathe, to grieve, and to remember that love is still here, waiting to be seen.

Give it a listen, and if it resonates, share it with someone who might need it too

Reflecting on the death of his grandson, my friend shared this on facebook:

Two years have passed since Jan 4th, and yet the shadow of that redwood, mighty and indifferent, still looms over my heart as if it fell but yesterday. Aeon—his name an echo of eternity, his spirit a flicker of divine light—was taken by the same earth that cradled him. A boy so full of wonder and possibility, his laughter seemed to carry the whispers of angels, and his eyes bore a brightness that spoke of a world yet to be explored. How cruelly the tree, a symbol of life and strength, became the instrument of loss. Yet, even in this, there is something profoundly human—a mystery of suffering, a question directed at the heavens. Aeon’s absence leaves a silence that reverberates louder than words, a reminder that love endures beyond the grave, bearing witness to the unbearable and transforming it into something eternal.

Dan’s loss reverberates with the universal human experience of suffering. And speaks to my heart about the nature of true comfort.

What a contrast. The comfort he shares is so different than the notion we’ve absorbed, that comfort is solely about ease and convenience.

No! Dan’s words echo that true comfort is found in love’s endurance through all of life’s challenges and reaches beyond the grave.

At the heart of this episode is the unwavering belief in the transformative power of love, weaving through history and the struggles of marginalized voices who have fought for equity and justice, at great personal cost.

Love is the only force powerful enough to make a duet of wonder and grief ~ words from the poem, Adrift by Mark Nepo.

Perhaps isolation is an epidemic because we've been conditioned to think we are less than we are – that we and others don’t have the capacity to be with all that life brings.

Love, loss, pain, and joy are all part of the human experience. But we’ve absorbed a lie that we and others can’t handle the complexity of life. This leads to hiding emotions, which keeps us segregated from ourselves and others.

Isolation.

I found out Chip died at midnight. By 7:00 am, 9 women were at my door ready to support me however possible.

That afternoon, I could hear them huddled together, whispering. I yelled out, “Nothing about me without me!”.

They were trying to help, but didn’t recognize that talking without me sent the message that I wasn’t able to be with my own life and denied me the community I needed for this desperate time.

How have you experienced this in your own life - times when you or others have tried to "protect" someone from the full range of emotions?

What could it look like to embrace the complexity of life's joys and sorrows together?

What intimacy might this create?

Because…

“The way you see any individual in your mind is the best they can ever be in your presence.” - John Overdurf.

In this episode, I share more stories and metaphors of how I’ve seen and experienced John’s words.

Join the conversation on death, loss and grief as the Grief Heals substack: http://griefheals.substack.com

A sweet friend and client sent me, "The Hidden Messages of Water," by Masaru Emoto. The treasure I received from the author and water is

Love and Gratitude

https://a.co/d/bSAS7zQ

This has me thinking about the radical invitation of grief.

What if grief’s invitation is to

Slow.

Down.

When I get slow. I mean slow enough to notice that I breathe. Slow enough to notice that I see.

Every time I get slow, Love and Gratitude emerge.

Even when I’m entering my deepest losses, love and gratitude arise when I get slow.

Grief has a powerful tendency to arrest us, to slow us down in a way that can feel overwhelming.

I wonder if it feels overwhelming because we don’t have a place to hold it in a culture that prizes productivity above people.

On the other hand, a storm might be called overwhelming, though there is a sense that storms are part of the natural world and won’t last forever.

We somehow know that there is a flow and calm becomes storm and storm becomes calm – like it’s part of the same cycle.

This book has me thinking about the cost of moving fast and reflecting on what that has meant for me and those around me. It also has me looking at slowing down in new ways.

As you listen to this episode, I invite you to consider:

How has grief invited you to slow down and become more present?

How does slowing down help your communication and interactions with yourself? Loved ones?

I believe that saying yes to grief's radical invitation, opens us up to a deeper understanding of ourselves, our connections, and the beauty that lies within our experiences.

Have a listen here and please share it with a friend!