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Pushing It Down Was Strength.
I believed that for years. And it’s hard to overstate how damaging that belief can be.
Did you grow up thinking that hiding your pain made you strong? That putting on a brave face made you a better person?
When I was sad as a child, I was told, “You’re okay. Stop crying.”—then given something to distract me.
When I was angry, I was punished.
When I was afraid, I didn’t get the understanding I needed. Instead, I was told to “be a big girl” and shake it off.
It’s no surprise that so many of us learn this lesson early: life goes more smoothly if we hide our pain. People like us more. We seem stronger. We’re more “successful.” We’re seen as good, capable, and put-together if we just stay positive and keep our emotions in check.
I was 14 when my mum lost her painful battle with ovarian cancer. She was diagnosed with stage 4, given six months to live—but she fought for three more years.
The clearest memory I have from that time is everyone telling me: “You’re okay. You’re strong. You’re a good girl.”
They meant well, but what I really heard was: No one wants to see me cry. Good girls stay composed. They don’t make things uncomfortable for others.
One of my sharpest childhood memories is the day I found out. It was a Friday afternoon. I was 11, waiting outside my Grade 7 classroom instead of walking home like usual. My teacher had told me to wait—my parents were coming to get me.
I remember sitting there, staring at the chairs stacked on the desks, like we always did on Fridays. I don’t remember having anxiety as a child, but I remember feeling it then—waiting, knowing something was wrong.
When my parents arrived, everything felt off.
My stepdad told me Mum had cancer—but she was going to beat it. And to help her, we had to be strong and put on a brave face.
He wasn’t crying. But even at 11, I could see how much effort it took for him to hold it together. Mum wasn’t crying either. She looked disconnected—like she wasn’t really there.
So I didn’t cry.
I put on my brave face.
For the next three years, I held it in.
And over time, I shut off my emotions completely.
In doing so, I disconnected from more than just my grief. I cut myself off from 'e-motion'—the energy in motion; the energy for motion—the natural flow of life moving through me.
I got to experience first-hand, that when we suppress our emotions, we shut down a vital connection to who we truly are. We start to not know what we want, what we need, what makes us happy, and who we are. And over a long period of time, this chronic disconnection can lead to addiction and disease.
Many now believe that trapped emotions are at the root of most disease. Suppressed / Trapped Emotions Are the Source of Most Disease
During the years my mum was dying—and long after she passed—I didn’t get the loving support and understanding I needed. Instead, I found comfort in food. For two decades, I struggled with bulimia.
I also became an expert at hiding my true self. My brave face became the mask I wore to keep others comfortable. I learned how to shape-shift, showing the world only what would make people like and accept me.
And with each passing year, I drifted further from my authentic self.
Grief touches all of us when we lose someone we love. Yet most of us don’t actually know how to grieve. We’ve spent a lifetime learning not to be “weak”—not to feel too deeply or express our pain.
We aren’t taught how to grieve at home. We rarely see it in movies or media. And it’s certainly not part of any school curriculum.
So, like I once did with food, many of us create or lean harder into coping mechanisms to escape what we don’t want to feel.
We might throw ourselves into work during the day and turn to alcohol at night, avoiding our emotions at all costs.
We might use exercise to distract ourselves or get our feel-good chemicals from helping others—while ignoring our own pain.
But if we’re lucky, grief has a way of breaking through our attachment to being okay.
Maybe we stumble upon a loved one’s belongings and feel a sudden wave of sadness. In that moment, we have a choice: push the feelings aside and move on, or allow ourselves to pause, feel, and grieve.
Or perhaps a song plays, and suddenly, the dam inside us begins to crack. Again, we have a choice: let it break open, or exhaust ourselves trying to hold it all in.
Ellie and I are here to help you navigate this changing time by guiding you to transform your grief into a source of growth, healing, and beauty. To do this, we’ll focus on building a habit of Compassionate Grieving with two essential parts:
Instead of suppressing emotions, we’ll learn to allow and experience them. Grief isn’t something just to endure—it’s an opportunity to heal, grow, and become more courageous in our relationships and lives. And we might also learn that what we think is ‘feeling our emotions’ isn’t in fact just that. But perhaps is thinking, or resisting, or recycling emotion.
When we allow ourselves to feel, we release trapped negative emotions, helping our body and mind heal.
In this program, we’ll be learning how to allow the Loving, compassion, understanding, and support we need to return to health, wholeness, and joy. It’s about experiencing unconditional love—not the kind you get for being “good” or meeting expectations. It’s about allowing ourselves to receive and be restored by the love we are inherently worthy of, simply because we exist. [Reference: Love with a Capital L can help clarify what we mean by Love in this program.]
For ease of language, I’ll be referring to our ‘Heart’ as the part of us that allows our Love and compassion to flow.
We’ll learn to experience the unconditional love and compassion we truly need. Our Rainbow Ones will help guide us, but ultimately, we’ll come to see that this deep, unwavering love is not outside of us—it’s who we really are.
The more we experience this authentic flow of love, the more beautiful and fulfilling our lives become. Our body systems and brain returns to health and balance. We experience greater energy for moving, for creating, for connecting and giving. And we awaken to a clearer sense of intuition and inner wisdom.
None of this happens overnight. But moment by moment, week by week, our courage to allow ourselves to feel our emotions fully, releases trapped negative emotions. And allowing ourselves to be filled with Love and compassion, restores our neural pathways, our patterns and our path back to balance and health.
This process takes time, but with each passing moment and week, we gradually release trapped negative energy and allow ourselves to receive the Love and compassion we need. In doing so, we restore our neural pathways, reshape our patterns, and find our way back to balance and health.
No one wants to grieve. No one wants to cry. No one wants to feel the depths of heartbreak after losing someone they love more than life itself.
Right?
So, of course, you’re going to resist this process. That’s natural. That’s okay.
Even though I spend most of my days encouraging others to sit with their pain, I still find myself avoiding, distracting, and resisting my own feelings. It’s normal. It’s human. It’s understandable.
Grief is a dance—one you’ll move through in your own way, in your own time, and at your own pace.
The only thing I truly hope for you is that you don’t avoid this journey entirely. Don’t just read this book for the information. Dive into the guides. Let yourself feel. Reconnect with your loved one. And know that it’s never too late. Never.
I’m lucky to have a husband who also misses Ellie and a whole community of people who loved her too. I can talk about her and celebrate her when I choose.
But even as I write this, four months have passed, and I still haven’t opened the beautiful bag that holds her ashes and paw print. I just haven’t been ready. And that’s okay. When the right time comes, I’ll know.
This book may be confronting. Like I do with my clients, I’ll encourage you—directly—to feel your pain, to remember your Rainbow Ones, and to take the time to reconnect and heal.
But if some days it’s just too much? If you need to focus on something else? That’s okay too.
When my mum died when I was 14, I didn’t grieve consciously. I had a few uncontrollable crying spells and broke down at her funeral while reciting a poem, but beyond those moments, I pushed the pain away. I kept myself busy, distracted—anything to avoid thinking about her.
Looking back, I see how not allowing myself to grieve led to addiction and dysfunction. At first, I turned to food, hoping it would ease the pain while bringing me some comfort and joy. That coping mechanism eventually turned into bulimia, which lasted until my early 30s. Along the way, I also struggled with alcohol, drugs, excessive exercise, and overworking.
It wasn’t until my early 30s that I finally began to grieve. I didn’t choose this path—it became necessary. My bulimia had reached a breaking point, and I knew I needed help, either through therapy or by checking into rehab.
To my surprise, once I actively started grieving, the process didn’t take as long as I feared. Within three months of truly engaging in it, my bulimia disappeared.
Even though I had love, success, and happiness in my life before this, grieving my mum’s death taught me how to truly love myself.
Grief invites us to connect with ourselves in a profound way. It reminds us of our own preciousness, sweetness, and innocence. When we allow ourselves to grieve, we honor our pain, recognize our worth, and open ourselves to healing.
Healing doesn’t just happen with time. It happens with love.
This book will show you how to use your own loving nature—and the love of your Rainbow animal—as powerful tools in your healing journey. And this isn’t just about grieving the loss of a pet. If you’re willing, this process can also help you heal past wounds, even those from childhood. If you’re brave enough to go there, I promise—you won’t be alone.
Grief and death are deeply misunderstood. The beliefs we hold about them are often unhelpful, making the experience even harder than it already is. As a society, we are not encouraged to express or process painful emotions.
Almost every client I’ve worked with was conditioned by messages like:
"Don’t cry."
"Stop feeling sorry for yourself."
"Be strong."
"Good girls don’t make a fuss."
Way to go ❤️🔥 That’s Week 2 Reading Complete 🏆 🎉 😁 🙌
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