“When Grief Is Not Respected”

There are moments in life when you expect compassion, or at the very least silence. Losing someone who shaped your whole world, someone you lived with for over 11 years, cared for, and shared a life with, should be one of those moments. But for me, grief has been met with something very different.

For years, I’ve carried the weight of a difficult situation, harassment, intimidation, emotional pressure, and behaviour that chipped away at our peace. I stayed quiet. I tried to keep the peace. I tried to move forward with our life's, even when we were being dragged backwards.

When Jennie passed away, I thought the hostility would stop. I thought grief would soften things. Instead, it became another weapon. Another way to twist the knife. Another way to try to control us, silence me, or make me feel like I had no right to honour the woman I lived with for over a decade, the woman that trust me, not them.

I’ve been accused, threatened, and spoken to like I’m doing something wrong simply for remembering the love of my life who meant everything to me. For creating books inspired by the life we shared. For keeping Jennies memory alive in the only way I know how and the way Jennie wanted, through creativity, through storytelling, through music, through love.

What people don’t see is the years of emotional strain behind the scenes. The mental abuse by these people. The manipulation. The things taken from my home that we were trying to build. The hacking of all our Hotmail / word accounts,. The constant feeling of being watched, judged, or punished for us simply existing.

I’ve stayed silent about all of it.

But silence becomes heavy.

And grief becomes heavier when it’s not respected.

This blog isn’t about attacking anyone. It’s not about naming names or pointing fingers. It’s about reclaiming my voice after years of being pushed down by these. It’s about saying, clearly and calmly, that I have the right to honour the love of my life. I have the right to create what my heart tells me. I have the right to heal. I have the right to move forward without being mentally battered for it all the time by these people.

Grief is hard enough.

Healing is hard enough.

Life is hard enough.

I’m choosing to move forward with dignity, honesty, and creativity, and without fear.

I won’t be intimidated.

I won’t be silenced.

And I won’t apologise for remembering my love of my life, and boy Jennie would be doing the same if it was the other way around.

My love goes nowhere.

If you made it this far, I wish you healing too.