by Ligia Houben | May 15, 2026 | Blog US
Sometimes grief appears in the places we least expect.
Not in the cemetery.
Not during the funeral.
Not during the anniversary.
Sometimes grief appears in the grocery store.
You are standing there looking at the puddings… and suddenly you remember how much your mother loved vanilla pudding.
It happened to me the first time I went grocery shopping after my mother died. I stood there staring at the puddings while tears quietly filled my eyes.
And deep inside, I knew this was natural.
It was grief.
Or you walk past your husband’s favorite ice cream and your chest tightens without warning.
Or you hear a song softly playing in the background and, for a moment, your whole body remembers.
That is one of the things people often misunderstand about grief:
Grief does not only live in the big moments.
It lives in the ordinary, everyday moments.
And sometimes those moments can feel incredibly lonely because people don’t “get it.”
Over the years, through my work in grief support and the 11 Principles of Transformation®, I have seen how many grieving individuals question themselves during these experiences.
“Why am I crying here?”
“Why is this still affecting me?”
“Shouldn’t I be doing better by now?”
Yet perhaps one of the most healing things we can understand is this:
There is nothing wrong with you. This is part of the grieving process.
As grief expert Megan Devine beautifully writes in It’s OK That You’re Not OK:
“Some things cannot be fixed. They can only be carried.”
Grief is one of those things.
Not because healing is impossible.
Not because life cannot hold meaning again.
But because grief is not simply something we “solve.”
Grief is love.
Love remembering.
Love longing.
Love trying to express itself after loss.
The grocery store was never just the grocery store. It was a place that held special memories and now…it’s just different.
That is why everyday places can suddenly become sacred spaces of remembrance.
One of the principles I often teach is that grief needs validation, not judgment.
When we stop criticizing our emotions and begin listening to them with compassion, something within us slowly softens.
Not because the pain disappears.
But because we stop abandoning ourselves inside the pain.
And little by little, we begin learning how to carry love differently.
Perhaps today your grief appeared unexpectedly in an ordinary moment.
If it did, I hope you remember this:
You are not regressing.
You are human.
And love continues to live in the smallest moments of life.
My reflection for you today:
What ordinary moment unexpectedly connects you to someone you love?
From my heart to yours,
Ligia M. Houben
by Ligia Houben | May 8, 2026 | Blog US
An orchid recently caught my attention.
At first glance, it did not appear to be thriving.
Its leaves were worn. Some roots looked dry and exposed. Parts of the plant carried visible signs of difficult seasons. It was not flawless. It showed evidence of struggle.
Yet something extraordinary was happening.
It was blooming.
Bright, vibrant flowers were emerging from a plant that had clearly endured hardship.
My husband cultivated this orchid. He cared for it patiently. He nurtured it consistently. He paid attention to it.
And as I looked at it, I realized how deeply it reflected the grief experience.
Because grief often feels the same way.
When we are grieving, we tend to focus on the parts of ourselves that feel broken, exhausted, changed, or fragile. Loss leaves marks. Whether we are grieving the death of a loved one, a divorce, caregiving responsibilities, aging, illness, or another painful life transition, grief changes us.
Life does not remain untouched after heartbreak.
And yet, just like the orchid, human beings are capable of continuing to grow when they are nurtured with care, support, and compassion.
Healing does not happen in isolation.
That is one of the reasons grief support, grief counseling, grief coaching, and transformational grief programs can be so meaningful. We are not meant to carry pain alone.
We need spaces where grief can be honored without judgment.
We need people who sit beside us without rushing our process.
We need support systems that help us understand what we are experiencing emotionally, physically, mentally, and spiritually.
We need reminders that grieving is not weakness. It is a natural response to loss.
Over the years, through my work in grief support, grief education, and the 11 Principles of Transformation®, I have seen how people begin to heal when they feel validated, understood, and accompanied.
Not because the loss disappears.
But because support changes the way we carry it.
At The Center for Transforming Lives, as well as through online programs and personalized support, I guide individuals through grief using the 11 Principles of Transformation® — a structured and meaningful framework designed to help people move from suffering to honoring with love.
The principles are not about “getting over” grief.
They are about learning how to live with loss in a healthier, more compassionate, and meaningful way.
They help individuals:
Understand grief
Process emotions
Reconnect with themselves
Discover meaning after loss
Support personal growth
Rebuild hope gradually and authentically
Because grief, while painful, can also become an invitation toward deeper understanding, healing, and transformation.
The orchid reminded me that blooming is not about perfection.
It is about care.
It is about what happens when something fragile is nurtured instead of neglected.
The same is true for us.
When we allow ourselves to receive support, when we engage in grief counseling, grief coaching, transformational grief programs, support groups, or compassionate guidance, something within us begins to soften.
Healing becomes possible little by little.
Not because life returns to what it once was.
But because we slowly learn how to move forward carrying love differently.
The orchid did not bloom despite being cared for.
It bloomed because it was cared for.
And perhaps that is one of the deepest lessons grief teaches us:
Even after difficult seasons, with nurturing, support, meaning, and compassion, we can continue to grow.
We can continue to heal.
And like the orchid, we can continue to bloom.
From my heart to yours,
Ligia M. Houben
by Ligia Houben | Mar 13, 2026 | Blog US
There are moments in life when an unexpected event interrupts everything.
Recently, I broke my left wrist. Being lefty, it’s my dominant hand. What followed was reconstructive surgery, immobilization, and the sudden realization that even simple daily tasks would now require help, patience, and adaptation.
Physically, it was a fracture.
Emotionally, it was something more.
When Injury Becomes Loss
We often associate grief with the death of a loved one.
But grief is the natural response to any significant loss.
Injury can be a loss.
The loss of independence.
The loss of normal routine.
The loss of strength.
The loss of the body we rely on without thinking.
When my wrist was immobilized, I felt something deeper than discomfort. I felt vulnerability. I felt limitation. I felt the frustration of not being able to do what I normally do with ease.
And that, too, is grief.
Disenfranchised Grief After Surgery
Many people minimize this kind of experience.
“It’s just a broken bone.”
“At least it’s not worse.”
“You’ll recover.”
And while all of that may be true, it does not erase the emotional impact.
This is what we call disenfranchised grief — grief that is real but often not validated by others.
When we do not recognize it, we may push it aside. We may expect ourselves to be “strong.” But unrecognized grief does not disappear. It goes inward.
Healing from the Inside Out
As someone who teaches the 11 Principles of Transformation®, I was reminded that healing is never only physical.
Recovery asks for:
• Patience
• Humility
• Acceptance
• Trust
• Self-compassion
It asks us to slow down.
It asks us to allow support.
It asks us to acknowledge that something changed.
And when we validate that change — rather than dismiss it — healing becomes deeper.
What This Experience Taught Me
This broken wrist reminded me that:
• Our bodies carry stories.
• Loss is not always dramatic to be meaningful.
• Vulnerability is not weakness.
• And healing, even when uncomfortable, can be transformative.
If you are recovering from surgery, injury, or any unexpected change, allow yourself to recognize the loss within it.
Validation is the first step toward transformation.
Healing happens from the inside out.
From my heart to yours,
Ligia M. Houben
by Ligia Houben | Feb 26, 2026 | Blog US
When we think about grief, we often think about the death of a loved one.
But there is another kind of grief that many people carry quietly:
the grief of no longer having the life we once had.
We may grieve a lifestyle.
Friendships that changed.
Activities that once defined our days.
A sense of identity that no longer fits.
Sometimes nothing “dramatic” happened.
Or perhaps everything did.
A move.
A divorce.
A health change.
A career shift.
A loss that altered the structure of life itself.
And yet, this grief often goes unspoken and it is not validated. We try to ignore it.
What makes us do this?
We may feel it is… frivolous.
People may make comments such as:
“You should be grateful.”
“At least you still have…”
“It could be worse.”
This kind of grief is what we call disenfranchised grief — grief that is real but not always acknowledged or validated by others.
And when grief is not validated, it doesn’t disappear.
It goes inward. It gets suppressed.
You Are Not Weak for Missing Your Old Life
It is natural and human to miss what once gave you meaning.
You are not shallow for missing:
the way your days used to flow
the social circle you once had
the version of yourself that felt familiar
the identity that made sense
You are grieving continuity.
You are grieving the life that felt known.
And that grief deserves space.
What Makes This Type of Grief So Difficult
This grief is challenging because:
There is no funeral
No ritual
No public acknowledgment
No one asking how you’re doing
So you carry it quietly.
You may even judge yourself:
“Why am I so affected?”
“Others have it worse.”
“I should be over this.”
But grief is not a competition.
Loss is loss.
When a life chapter ends, something inside us must reorganize.
That takes time. That takes adaptation. That takes acceptance.
How to Cope with the Grief of a Lost Life
1. Name It
Simply acknowledging:
“I miss my old life”
is powerful.
Naming grief gives it dignity.
2. Allow Both Gratitude and Sadness
You can be grateful for what you have
and still mourn what changed.
Both can exist.
3. Honor What Was
What you had was important to you.
It was part of your identity.
It was part of your worldview.
It gave you joy.
You are allowed to honor that chapter.
4. Redefine Identity from The Inside Out
Instead of asking:
“Who am I now?”
ask:
“What parts of me remain?”
You are not starting from zero.
You are evolving.
5. Create Small Continuity
Even one familiar activity, habit, or connection can help rebuild a sense of stability.
Grief softens when life regains rhythm.
You Are Not Alone in This Quiet Grief
Many people grieve silently for the life they once knew.
You may not see it on social media.
You may not hear it in conversations.
But it exists in many hearts.
If this resonates with you, know this:
Your grief is understandable.
You are being human.
And…you can still make the choice of who you are becoming.
Remember, your life has meaning!
Ligia M. Houben
by Ligia Houben | Jan 23, 2026 | Blog US
When we are grieving, there is a conversation that never stops.
It doesn’t happen out loud.
It happens inside.
It is the voice that greets you when you wake up and remember.
The voice that walks with you through the day.
The voice that appears in the quiet moments and in the hardest ones.
And that inner conversation has far more influence than most people realize.
After a loss, many people find themselves repeating phrases like:
“I can’t do this.”
“I can’t go on without them.”
“This is too hard.”
“This pain will never end.”
“My life is over.”
When grief is deep, these do not feel like thoughts.
They feel like reality itself.
And in a way, they are — because the way you speak to yourself is shaping the way you are living your grief.
The Inner World You Live In
Grief already hurts.
It already changes everything.
It already asks more of us than we ever imagined we could give.
But the emotional world you live in is not created only by what happened.
It is also created by the story you are telling yourself about what happened.
Your inner conversation becomes the emotional climate of your life.
If your inner voice says, again and again:
“I can’t.”
“I’m not able.”
“This is impossible.”
Then every small step forward feels unreachable before you even try.
Not because you truly cannot.
But because your inner world is being organized around those words.
Consciousness Is the First Movement of Healing
There is something very powerful that happens when you begin to notice how you speak to yourself.
Not to judge it.
Not to correct it.
Not to force it to change.
Simply to become aware.
Because awareness creates space.
And space creates choice.
You may not be able to change what happened.
But you can begin to change how you are standing inside what happened.
That is not denial.
That is not pretending.
That is not “being positive.”
That is inner presence.
That is inner leadership.
Pain Is Inevitable. Suffering Is Shaped.
Pain is part of loving.
Pain is part of losing.
Pain is part of being human.
But suffering often grows in the way we narrate what we are living.
There is a deep difference between:
“I can’t live without them.”
and
“I don’t yet know how to live without them.”
“My life is over.”
and
“My life has changed forever, and I am learning how to be in this new life.”
“I am not strong enough for this.”
and
“This is very hard, and I am here, breathing, one day at a time.”
The second language does not minimize the pain.
It honors it — without turning it into a prison.
The Relationship You Have With Yourself in Grief
In grief, you don’t only miss the person you lost.
You also meet yourself in a new way.
And the way you speak to yourself in this season becomes the most important relationship you have.
If your inner voice is harsh, demanding, or hopeless, healing has no safe place to land.
If your inner voice begins, little by little, to include:
Gentleness.
Patience.
Respect for your rhythm.
Permission to be where you are.
Then something subtle but profound happens:
You don’t suddenly feel “better.”
But you begin to feel accompanied inside yourself.
And that changes everything.
This Is Not About Forcing Strength or Positivity
This is not about telling yourself you should be okay.
This is not about rushing the process.
This is not about replacing pain with nice words.
This is about learning to speak to yourself with truth and with kindness at the same time.
Sometimes the most powerful inner sentence is simply:
“Yes. This is very hard.”
“And I am still here.”
Your Inner Conversation Is Your Daily Medicine
You live inside your words.
You breathe inside your interpretations.
You walk through your days inside the meaning you are giving to your experience.
That is why your inner conversation is not a small thing.
It is the place where your healing is either supported or made heavier.
The first real step forward in grief is not something you do in the world.
It is something you begin to do inside:
You begin to change the way you accompany yourself.
Remember This
You do not heal by forgetting.
You do not heal by leaving love behind.
You heal by learning how to live differently while carrying love with you.
And the voice that will guide you in that learning…
Is your own.
From my heart to yours,
Ligia M. Houben
by Ligia Houben | Jan 8, 2026 | Blog US
At the beginning of every year—or at the beginning of any new chapter in life—we are given a quiet but powerful invitation.
We can choose to let time simply pass…
Or we can choose to live with intention and meaning.
Every year, every season, every stage of life can become “just another year”… or it can become a meaningful one. The difference is not found in what happens to us, but in how we respond to what happens to us.
I don’t know what you may be facing right now. Perhaps you are beginning this year with hope and excitement. Or perhaps you are carrying pain, uncertainty, grief, or deep exhaustion in your heart.
If you are going through a difficult time, I want you to know this: I see you. And my heart goes out to you.
There are moments in life when it feels almost impossible to imagine that we can live a meaningful or fulfilling year. When loss, change, or disappointment has touched our lives, simply getting through the day can feel like enough.
And yet… even then… especially then… something very important remains true:
We still have the power to choose our attitude.
When we allow ourselves to be completely overtaken by external circumstances, we slowly lose our sense of agency. We begin to feel like victims of life rather than participants in it.
But what if, instead of seeing ourselves as victims of the situation, we chose to see ourselves as survivors?
What if we gently turned inward and opened our own inner toolkit?
Because whether we realize it or not, we all carry within us extraordinary resources.
Take a moment and ask yourself:
Which of these do I need most right now?
Faith
Patience
Hope
Courage
Persistence
Gratitude
Forgiveness
Endurance
Resilience
Compassion
Strength
Peace
Love
Once you recognize the quality your heart needs most… use it.
Don’t leave your inner life up to fate or circumstances.
Your life is not shaped only by what happens to you.
It is shaped by your vision, your choices, and your inner determination.
If the vision we carry inside is one of failure, then that is the direction our life will tend to move toward.
If the vision we hold is one of sadness or hopelessness, then that will color everything we experience.
But if the vision we choose is one of meaning, gratitude, and love—then even in the midst of difficulty, we begin to live a different kind of life.
A deeper life.
An authentic life.
A life that is guided from the inside out.
This does not mean ignoring pain. It means not letting pain be the only author of our story.
So today, I invite you to pause for a moment and remember something essential:
Your life is a gift.
And regardless of what this season looks like, your life still has meaning.
Your presence still matters.
Your heart still has something unique to offer.
May this be a year in which you choose to live with intention.
May this be a year in which you choose meaning—again and again.
And above all, remember:
Your life has meaning.
From my heart to yours,
Ligia M. Houben
