This is a living grief library.

Grief doesn’t always arrive with a death. Sometimes it slips in through the side door, disguised as exhaustion or restlessness. It can come from the loss of a role, a dream, a version of yourself. It might be rooted in generational silence, personal collapse, or the quiet ache of living in a world that rewards disconnection more than depth.

Most of us were never taught how to hold grief like this. No ceremony, no language, no container. Just a heavy feeling that gets pushed aside because it doesn't seem to count. This space exists to change that. If you are carrying something that no one else seems to see, you belong here. There’s no right way to be here. You can read quietly or write something of your own.

You can explore the Grief Resource Hub if you’re looking for support, visit the FAQ to learn more about how this space works, or read the Community Guidelines to understand how we hold one another in the comments.

✦ Who This Is For

This project is for anyone who feels like they’re grieving something invisible. For the ones whose sorrow doesn’t make sense on paper. For those who left something behind and are still learning how to speak its name.

You don’t have to be ready. You don’t have to be okay. You don’t even have to participate out loud. Just being here is enough.

✦ What to Expect

Each week, a new grief entry arrives quietly Tuesday morning. Inside, you'll find a story or reflection, a symbolic image or field sketch, and a small collection of tools to help you meet what you’re feeling with more care.

This season, we are focusing on the griefs that grow out of modern life. The kind that build over time in the margins of our days. Loneliness in crowded rooms. Disappointment in broken systems. The ache of constantly adapting.

Occasionally, you’ll receive a Thursday entry that steps outside the usual format. These are not personal grief stories, but wide-angle reflections on the deeper terrain of grief itself. We’ll explore questions like who gets to grieve, how pain and pleasure are braided together, and what ancient cultures understood about mourning that we’ve forgotten.

✦ About the Keeper

My name is Charlotte Rogg. I’m a writer, entrepreneur, and a death doula-in-training, though those words only tell part of the story.

I made this space because I needed it. After losing the life I had built, I was left with a grief I didn’t know how to carry. It didn’t look like tragedy, but it hollowed me out just the same. I searched for support from my community, but found that no one could empathize with what I was going through. There was no space for my grief. So I began building something I couldn’t find elsewhere. A place where the quiet griefs could speak.

I don’t offer this as a professional. I offer it as someone who knows how hard it can be to keep going without somewhere to place the weight.

✦ Join the Project

If you're carrying a grief that hasn't been named yet, you’re welcome to contribute to our Share Your Story of Grief Survey, which helps shape future seasons. However you choose to engage, know this: your grief belongs.

However you found your way here, I’m grateful. There is room for your grief.

Go gently,
Charlotte