When Grief Doesn't Wait for PTO

This month's article is a little late.

A week ago, I said goodbye to my dog. Like many people who have loved a pet, I underestimated how deeply that loss would affect me. I thought I'd bounce back quickly and resume my work. Instead, I found myself moving through the days a little slower, finding it harder to concentrate, and realizing that grief has a way of showing up when you least expect it.

Which got me thinking...

There are some mornings when getting dressed for work feels like the hardest thing you'll do all day. Not because you don't like your job. Because life happened.

Maybe you lost someone you love. Maybe a parent got sick. Maybe your marriage ended. Maybe your dog—the one who greeted you every day after work and somehow knew exactly when you needed comfort—is no longer there when you walk through the door.

And yet, the emails keep coming.

The meetings stay on the calendar.

People still need updates by 3:00 p.m.

One of the hardest parts about grief is that the world doesn't pause when your heart does.

For many professionals of color, there's often an added layer to carrying grief. We've learned to keep showing up. To be dependable. To stay composed. To push through. Somewhere along the way, many of us began believing that professionalism meant leaving our personal lives at the door.

But grief doesn't work that way.

It follows you into meetings. It sits beside you during presentations. It makes simple tasks feel surprisingly difficult. Some days you're focused. Other days you're staring at your screen wondering why you can't remember what you were doing five minutes ago.

That's not a lack of professionalism.

That's being human.

I've been reminded of this myself recently after losing my dog. I didn't stop caring about my work overnight. I didn't suddenly become less capable. But I did become someone learning how to carry sadness while still showing up.

And if you've ever navigated loss while trying to meet deadlines, you know that's a different kind of work altogether.

Maybe we don't need to have all the right words for grieving coworkers. Maybe we simply need more permission to acknowledge that grief exists in our workplaces. Because behind every polished presentation, answered email, or completed project is a person carrying a life that no one else fully sees.

And sometimes the bravest thing we do isn't pretending we're okay.

It's allowing ourselves to be human while we heal.