Facing the Unsaid: How Writing Heals What Words Left Behind

Grief has a way of surfacing the things we thought we’d buried—the words left unsaid, the questions we never asked, and the moments we longed for but never got. Years can pass, but that tension lingers, holding space in our hearts and minds, whispering reminders of what we left unresolved. For me, that tension came from the questions I never voiced to my mom, the things I wish I’d said, and the anger I couldn’t let go of until after she was gone.

This tension became a weight I carried, one that I wasn’t sure how to release. In those early years after her passing, I was haunted by what might have been different if I’d found the courage to speak up, to share my pain, my love, and my apologies. The pain of not saying those words and facing those feelings became a second layer to my grief—a layer of guilt, shame, and regret that felt just as heavy as the loss itself.

Writing has been my way of unraveling that weight, slowly and painfully, but also gently. I eventually sat down and wrote a letter to my mom, saying all the things I wished I’d said when she was alive. It’s not an easy thing to do, to sit with those emotions and dig up the memories that hurt the most. But putting pen to paper and allowing those words to flow was one of the most cathartic steps I’ve taken in my healing process. It let me voice the questions and pain I had held inside for so long, and in doing so, it created a space for release.

Here is a piece of that letter—a small part of what I wish I’d had the courage to say to her:

Mom,

I wish, as a child, I had understood the things I know now. Even though you never held my anger or my words against me, I know that the things I said and did hurt you. For that, I am truly sorry…

These words may never reach her, but letting them out onto the page has helped me release the built-up emotions I’d been carrying. I used to think that sharing my story or acknowledging my pain would make the grief sharper, like it was bringing the hurt back to life. But I’ve come to realize that letting it out can make the journey a little bit easier. By sharing these words, both with myself and now with others, I’ve been able to forgive a little more each day—forgiving her, forgiving myself, and understanding that both of us were doing the best we could.

For anyone grieving a loss, I hope my story encourages you to release what’s inside, in whatever way feels right for you. Maybe it’s writing a letter, speaking aloud to them, or creating something in their memory. Facing those unsaid words and lingering questions isn’t easy, and it may feel like opening wounds that have only just begun to heal. But there’s a gentle strength in allowing yourself to put those feelings into words and letting them live outside of you.

The act of releasing what we hold within isn’t about erasing the pain, nor is it about “moving on.” It’s about making space for healing and honoring our story as it truly is. So, even if it feels difficult, know that in sharing your story, you’re also opening a door to peace, understanding, and connection—one that will help you breathe a little easier as you continue to carry their memory with love. Let the pain out.

Until next time,

D