Understanding Grief and Support: A Personal Journey with Dozer

The Challenge of Grief

When my dog Dozer died, I did not want to talk about it. I didn't want to answer questions or give updates. But word got out, and people started asking me, “What happened?” on repeat. The push for details felt exhausting. I was still trying to breathe, and suddenly I was managing everyone else’s curiosity too. This experience forced me to think about grief and support in a new way.

Different Ways to Grieve

Not everyone grieves the same. Some people need closeness and conversation. Others need distance and quiet. The challenge is knowing when to give space in grief and when to lean in.

I had a friend once tell me, “I want to be there for you when you are having a hard time.” For her, support meant being surrounded by people, talking it out, and leaning on her circle. That is wonderful. For me, it is the opposite. I clam up. I do not want to talk. Most of the time, if somebody lets me be, I will eventually come out and talk on my own.

A Lesson from Neo

I guess I am a lot like my other dog, Neo. When people walk into the house and head straight for him, he panics. He gives a low bark, backs up, and looks for a way out. But if you give him five minutes, he will be glued to your side. His issue is not that he cannot love people; it is that people keep insisting on loving him their way instead of his.

I am the same. If you rush me or get in my face because you think it is comforting, it does not work. If you give me space, I will probably come to you. Maybe I am as stubborn as Neo, but at least I don't bark.

The Importance of Space in Grief

What I noticed in myself is that the people who did not push were the ones I eventually opened up to. The ones who sat with me in silence or offered a simple “I am here” gave me the room to decide when and how to share. The less someone grabbed for my story, the safer I felt to give it. That is the heart of giving space in grief.

Supporting someone who is grieving is not about rushing in to fix, ask, or know. True support takes us out of the center and places the grieving person back in it, where they belong.

And honestly, sometimes the best thing you can say is the simplest. “I am really sorry you are going through this. I am here if you need anything.” That is it. No spotlight. No interrogation. Just space and presence.

Midlife Reflections on Grief

Midlife has made me more aware of this than ever. Somewhere along the way, you start to recognize your patterns. You see the difference between what you truly need and what everyone else thinks you should need. You also get clearer about respecting boundaries in grief, not just for yourself, but for others too. That recognition is not always comfortable, but it is freeing.

The truth is, grief and support look different for everyone. Some people need company, while others need quiet. The real care comes in being able to tell the difference and allowing people to grieve in their own way.

The Deepest Form of Support

And maybe that is the deepest form of support. Not filling silence. Not pressing for details. Just trusting that when we are ready, we will come forward.

If you are navigating your own shifts in midlife and need a place to start, I created a free download with 5 prompts to help you get honest with yourself. They are short, direct, and designed to meet you where you are. You can grab them here.

Keep Shifting

~Amira

Your Turn

When you have gone through grief, what kind of support actually helped you? Was it the friend who sat in silence, the one who asked questions, or something else entirely? Share in the comments. Your story might give someone else permission to honor grief in their own way. 💛

And if this topic resonated, I talked more about holding space and midlife shifts on The Shifted Podcast. You can listen in wherever you get your podcasts.