The Weight of Sadness: Letting It In, Letting It Pass

I haven’t felt sadness in a long time.

My life, in recent years, has been full of joy — not perfect, but beautiful. Little bumps here and there, small problems that show up and then quietly disappear. I’ve danced through seasons with a grateful heart, laughing easily, waking up light.

But yesterday, something shifted.

I lost my cousin — someone so full of life, so real, so loved. And suddenly, I remembered what sadness feels like.

Not the kind you name easily. The kind that sits in your chest like a rock. That doesn't ask for permission. That comes in like a tide and floods your entire being.

I couldn’t eat. Not because I didn’t want to — but because I couldn’t. My stomach turned as if I had eaten something bad. My body was reacting to a truth my heart couldn’t quite say out loud.

I couldn’t sleep either. My heart hurt — like physically hurt. There was a dull, persistent ache in my chest, and a deep hollowness I couldn't reach. I stared into space for long stretches, blank, quiet, heavy. I didn't want to talk. I couldn’t pick calls. I just wanted to lie down and disappear into stillness.

This… this is what sadness feels like.

It consumes you, not with rage, but with weight. Gentle, unrelenting weight. It doesn't shout. It doesn’t rush. It lingers in your breath and bones.

But in all this, I’m learning something powerful.

I’m allowing myself to grieve.

I’m letting the memories come — the laughter, the hugs, the spontaneous dances. And yes, the tears too. Hot, real tears that sting and soothe at the same time. I’m not fighting them anymore.

Just as I celebrate joy, I am giving myself permission to feel this sadness too.

And you know what? There’s a strange kind of freedom in that.

To feel deeply is to be alive. To mourn is to remember love. And to grieve is to honor what was beautiful.

What I hold on to most now is this: the joy will return. There are many more joyful days ahead. I know this, because I’ve lived them — and I’ll live them again.

But for now, I sit with my sadness. I let it stay. And when it’s ready, I’ll let it go.

Dee😭