Valentine’s Day is designed to celebrate love.

But for many, it quietly magnifies loss.

The world turns pink and red. Restaurants fill. Social media overflows with carefully framed joy. And yet, for someone who is grieving, this day can feel like walking through a celebration you were not invited to attend.

An empty chair at the table.
A wedding ring that no longer rests beside yours.
A love that ended too soon.
A marriage that changed shape.
A diagnosis that altered intimacy.
A season of life that quietly closed.

If Valentine’s Day feels heavy this year, you are not failing at healing.

You are remembering.

And remembrance is sacred.

Grief Is Proof of Love

As a Certified Grief Educator, I have witnessed something profound over the years: grief is not the opposite of love. It is the continuation of it.

We grieve because we are attached.
We grieve because something mattered.
We grieve because love left an imprint.

Yet our culture is uncomfortable with grief—especially on days meant for celebration. So people often translate their sadness into self-criticism.

“I should be over this.”
“I shouldn’t still feel this way.”
“Everyone else seems fine.”

But often what we call “being stuck” is simply unaddressed grief asking to be honored.

And when grief is ignored, it does not disappear. It shows up as exhaustion. As irritability. As emotional distance. As loss of motivation. As a quiet sense that life feels muted.

Valentine’s Day can amplify that inner dissonance.

You May Be Grieving More Than a Person

Sometimes you are not just grieving someone.

You are grieving who you were when you were with them.

You are grieving the future you thought you would have.

You are grieving a version of yourself that felt safer, more certain, more connected.

That kind of grief is subtle. It doesn’t always come with casseroles or sympathy cards. But it is just as real.

And it deserves space.

A Different Way to Approach Today

If today feels tender, consider this gentle shift:

Instead of asking, “How do I get through this day?”
Ask, “How can I honor love today—even in its changed form?”

You might:

• Light a candle and say their name.

• Write a letter you never sent.

• Take a quiet walk and allow your body to feel what it feels.

• Reach out to someone safe and tell the truth about your heart.

There is no prize for pretending.

There is strength in honesty.

Love Is Not Erased by Loss

One of the most important truths I share in my work is this:

Nothing meaningful is ever truly wasted.

Love does not evaporate because circumstances changed. It transforms. It deepens. It becomes memory, wisdom, resilience, and sometimes even a calling to live more consciously.

Grief, when tended to rather than suppressed, does not shrink your capacity for love. It expands it.

You are not behind.
You are not weak.
You are not too sensitive.

You are human.

And on a day devoted to love, that humanity matters more than performance ever could.

If this Valentine’s Day feels complicated, let it be. Complexity is not failure. It is evidence that your heart is alive.And that, in itself, is something worth honoring.

Warmly, 

Linda Dyson

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