what I learned from the Mourning Pages beta test: part 2
the ripple effects of grief on the body, our relationships, and beyond
This is the second installment of my reflections on what I learned from the Mourning Pages beta test—a 28-day grief journaling experience I ran in February with a small group of women navigating mother loss. If you missed part one, you can read it here.
what I learned from the Mourning Pages beta test: part 1
Back in January, I announced I was looking for participants to beta test my new grief journal, Mourning Pages. Having tested it myself throughout December, I knew it had potential to be a powerful tool for those struggling with the death of their mothers—little did I know that it was about to take on a life of its own and grow beyond anything I had imag…
In the first post, I shared the unexpected insights I gained from witnessing how others process their grief on the page. In this part, I’m diving deeper into the complexities of grief, how it impacts our relationships, and the surprising, far-reaching effects that surfaced through the journal prompts.
Whether you're wading through your own grief or supporting someone who is, I hope these reflections help shed light on the messy, multifaceted experience of loss.
5. you can’t rush grief, but you need to give it space
While some participants wrote every day, others struggled with certain prompts and needed more time, and others got sidetracked by personal challenges. I had anticipated this—journaling about grief for 28 days straight is not an easy ask, despite my carefully curated mix of challenging and soothing prompts. And although the journal is structured around the lunar cycle, the aim is for the final product to be a tool that people can dip in and out of or add to their healing toolbox to use as needed.
What impressed me most was how creative participants got with adapting the journal to their needs. For instance, someone who felt resistance to the prompts in the final week leaned into an intuitive somatic (body-based) practice instead, using breathwork and movement to feel into their body and jotting down a one-word summary as a response.
Another woman, who was used to working with her grief through talking therapies, had some resistance to writing at first but shifted into curiosity once the words started flowing. She discovered that she could go on visual journeys in her journal, and began to see journaling as a valuable mirror she could turn to when she didn’t have access to a mentor or friend.
Although the aim was to journal every day for 28 days, it wasn’t about following a strict schedule but creating space for grief—however that looks. As participants explored their grief on the page, they also began to notice its impact beyond their inner world. The way they moved through loss—whether by suppressing it, avoiding it, or confronting it—had shaped their personal experiences.
6. grief affects our relationships
One of the most surprising patterns to emerge from the group was how much grief had shaped participants' relationships with both themselves and others. Several participants spoke about how they had been hiding their grief, believing no one would understand or that their pain would burden others.
One woman described her grief as a hidden house where she had been keeping people out. The journal helped her realize she could begin inviting people in—but selectively, on her own terms.
Others found the courage to share their grief for the first time with friends they'd been shutting out for years—only to be met with compassion and understanding. One participant even rekindled an old friendship, discovering that her fear of judgment had been a barrier she had built herself.
What became clear was that the more participants opened up to themselves through the pages, the more they found themselves willing to open up to others. This process reconnected them to the relationships that could support them through their grief.
7. grief work changes lives in unexpected ways
I’ll be honest: I went into this test with a narrow view of the potential impact of grief work, expecting participants to gain new perspectives on their grief. What I didn’t expect was how deeply it would transform other areas of their lives.
The ripple effects of these 28 days were profound:
One participant made the decision to quit a lifelong addiction.
Another uncovered just how loud her inner critic had become and began actively softening it, choosing self-compassion over self-judgment.
Some discovered that grief had been blocking them from making big life changes. By facing it head-on, they finally gave themselves permission to move forward.
Several of the participants reconnected with their loved ones who had passed through dreams and synchronicities.
These shifts opened my eyes to the multilayered experience of grief that grows, like tree roots, through every aspect of our lives. The dual reality of grief means learning how to live without your loved one while discovering who you’re becoming—and we need to make space for both.
8. this is just the beginning
Testing Mourning Pages confirmed that the journal works, but it also showed me where it can evolve. For Mourning Pages 2.0, I'll be expanding the journal to explore different types of grief, so stay tuned for updates.
A recurring theme in the group was how grief shows up in the body—from disrupted sleep to muscle tension to unexplained aches. The participant who swapped journaling for movement reminded me of the body's vital role in healing, which inspired my next online programme, Grief and the Body.
In this four-week experience, we'll combine gentle somatic practices with reflective journaling to help you release what’s held in your body and process the emotions that words alone can't reach.
To make this programme as impactful as possible, I’d love your input. If you've experienced grief and want to help shape this offering, please fill out this short survey.
As a thank you, you'll receive a personalised journaling prompt if you complete the survey by Saturday March 29th and 10% off the programme if you decide to join the waitlist.
Click here to fill out the survey—your inputs mean the world to me.