Not all grief wears black. Some grief shows up in the quiet moments—the longing when you see a friend hug their mom, the sting when Father’s Day ads flood your feed, the hollow pit in your chest when you realize: I never had that. And I never will.

The Parent Who Exists, But Never Existed

When your parent is alive but emotionally absent, it creates a brutal paradox. You can call them. You might see them at Christmas. But what you needed—the safe arms, the unconditional love, the protector who showed up every time—never existed. You’re grieving a ghost in broad daylight.

This is what psychologists call ambiguous loss. There’s no obituary to point to, no socially acceptable ritual to help you move through it. The world tells you to be grateful, to “get over it,” to stop being dramatic. But your body knows the truth. It remembers every bedtime you cried alone. Every time you begged to be chosen and weren’t. Every time love came with a cost.

How This Grief Haunts You

Unresolved grief doesn’t just vanish—it shape-shifts. It can look like:

• Staying in relationships that feel like home—chaotic, unpredictable, unsafe

• Pleasing everyone so you never get abandoned again

• A constant hum of guilt for needing distance from “family”

• A hollow ache that no career, partner, or milestone seems to fill

This is not weakness. It’s survival. It’s what happens when the child inside you is still standing at the window, waiting for a parent who never comes.

The Body Carries What the Heart Can’t

Grief doesn’t live only in the mind—it camps in your nervous system. Tight chest. Shallow breath. Jaw clenched until it aches. A body always braced for impact.

Healing starts when you stop gaslighting yourself and let your body speak.

Try this:

• Grounding touch: One hand on your chest, one on your belly. Breathe. Whisper, I see you. I’m here now.

• Shake it loose: Shake your arms, stamp your feet. Let your body release the grief it never got permission to feel.

• Journal raw: Ask: What did I need as a child that I never received? Don’t edit. Don’t justify. Just write.

Why Facing This Grief Matters

Most survivors try to outrun this pain. It wasn’t that bad. Others had it worse. But unacknowledged grief doesn’t disappear—it leaks. Into your parenting. Into your boundaries. Into your self-worth.

Naming this grief isn’t about blame. It’s about truth. It’s about giving your story—and your inner child—the dignity of being seen.

Because when you grieve what you never got, you stop chasing it in places that will never give it. That’s where the cycle breaks.

Moving Forward

This grief is not a life sentence. It’s a doorway. When you allow yourself to feel the loss, you also open yourself to build what’s real: love that is steady, safety that is chosen, relationships that are reciprocal.

You deserved better as a child. You still do. And every time you honour that truth, you take the pen back from your past and begin writing a different ending.

f this hit you in the gut, you’re not alone. This community is built for cycle breakers—those willing to face the ache and turn it into healing. Explore more resources, programs, and support at www.thewoundedhealer.ca