When Your Loss Goes Unseen: Disenfranchised Grief
- Loren Gray

- May 13
- 3 min read
Some grief is loud. It's named, acknowledged, supported. People may show up with flowers and food, text messages and space to mourn. But some grief is quiet. It moves beneath the surface of our lives. Valid, tender, and very real, yet often invisible to others. This is disenfranchised grief a term coined by grief researcher Kenneth Doka to describe the kind of grief that isn't recognised or validated by the world around us.
What Makes Grief "Disenfranchised"?
This kind of grief can happen when the loss doesn't fit cultural or social ideas of what “counts.” There's no shared language, no public rituals, no clear support. The person grieving may feel uncertain, silenced, or even ashamed of their feelings.
Disenfranchised grief might come after the end of a friendship or estrangement from family. It can follow a miscarriage, a struggle with fertility, or the death of a much loved pet. It can also arise after a job loss, retirement, a shift in identity, or even in mourning someone who caused harm, such as an abusive parent or partner. Some life transitions (even chosen ones) involve quiet or symbolic losses. Sometimes the world moves on quickly. Sometimes it never even notices.
The Loneliness of Unseen Grief
When grief goes unacknowledged, it can become layered with other emotions such as guilt, confusion, self-doubt. We might ask ourselves: Why am I still upset about this? Am I being too sensitive? Shouldn’t I be over it by now? This internal questioning can make grief feel even heavier.
But just because others don’t understand or acknowledge your loss, doesn’t mean it’s not real. Just because the grief is quiet doesn’t mean it’s not worthy of care.

Creating Space for Your Own Experience
Disenfranchised grief invites us to validate our experience for ourselves, even if no one else does. It asks us to trust that our pain is meaningful, and that we deserve space to honour what’s been lost.
You don’t need permission to grieve. You don’t need your grief to look a certain way. You are allowed to feel sorrow over what was, what wasn’t, or what will never be.
Ways to Honour Unseen Grief
If you're experiencing grief, here are a few gentle practices you might find supportive:
Name the loss, even if only to yourself. Write it down. Say it out loud. Give it form.
Create a small ritual that feels meaningful. Light a candle, go for a walk with intention, plant something, or set aside time to reflect.
Journal your feelings without judgment. You might ask, What am I grieving? What did this loss mean to me?
Speak with someone you trust, if and when it feels safe to do so. Being heard and seen can start the healing process.
Offer yourself compassion. It’s okay if it still hurts. It’s okay if it takes time. There is no timeline for grief.
Notice what helps. Self-care, healthy food, establishing a night routine to help you get some sleep. A walk outside. Turning off your phone. Anything that nourishes and supports you.
These aren’t fixes, just soft invitations to stay connected to your own experience, and to remember that your grief is worthy of your love, attention and compassion.
If you’re carrying a grief that no one else seems to see, you are not alone. There is strength in acknowledging what hurts. There is healing in giving your grief language. And there is nothing wrong with you for needing time, space, or gentleness.
May we all go gently.



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