Grief counselling and what it made me realise

When I first walked into counselling, I wasn’t looking for answers about my past. I thought I was there only because I was grieving. I thought the sessions would be about loss — not about rediscovery. But slowly, and so gently, counselling began to uncover things I hadn’t seen, or hadn’t been allowed to see, for most of my life.

One of the biggest realisations was how growing up inside a long-term relationship shapes you without you even noticing. When you meet someone at a very young age, their version of love becomes your definition of love. Their expectations become your normal. And when you don’t know any different, you don’t question it — you adapt to it.

Counselling gave me language I never had before. Words like boundaries, autonomy, respect, emotional safety. Concepts I’d never truly understood because I had never experienced them in their healthiest form. I realised that many things I had assumed were just “part of relationships” were actually things I had absorbed because I didn’t know any alternative.

None of this came with anger. It came with clarity. It came with a soft kind of understanding — of myself, of him, and of how two people can end up in a dynamic neither of them ever really intended.

What surprised me most was how much compassion I felt when I finally understood these patterns. Compassion for the younger me, who did her best with the knowledge she had. Compassion for him, who had his own struggles I’ll never fully understand. And compassion for the version of us that tried so hard to make something work, even when it wasn’t healthy.

I used to feel guilty for seeing these truths after he died. I felt like I was betraying his memory by recognising the unhealthy patterns that were there all along. But counselling helped me understand that acknowledging reality isn’t disrespectful — it’s healing. It’s how we grow. It’s how we break cycles. It’s how we stop losing ourselves.

Most importantly, counselling helped me see that I am allowed to have a future that looks different from my past. I am allowed to learn what healthy love really feels like. I am allowed to explore who I am when I’m not being shaped by someone else. I am allowed to heal.

I share this because I know there are others who only find clarity after loss. Others who look back and finally recognise things they couldn’t name at the time. Others who feel guilty for understanding their story more fully now.

If that’s you, please know:

You’re not betraying anyone by telling the truth to yourself.

You’re not wrong for learning what you deserved.

And you’re not alone.