We tend to think of grief as something that happens after a death, a divorce, or a major loss. Something rare and seismic. But in reality, grief is constantly flowing beneath the surface of everyday life. And learning to manage it—really sit with it, move through it—is, I’ve come to believe, one of the most essential emotional skills we can cultivate.

I didn’t come to this insight easily. I learned it the hard way—through the loss of my marriage, and then, not long after, the death of my ex-husband.

That kind of layered grief is brutal. It’s grief on top of grief. First came the heartbreak and disorientation of divorce—the collapse of the future I had imagined for myself and for my child. Then, just as I had started to find my footing again, came the devastating finality of death. There’s no roadmap for processing that kind of pain when it hits in waves and from multiple angles.

But over time, as I read, reflected, and slowly rebuilt, I started to understand something deeper about grief. It’s not just about death or divorce. It’s not only about the capital-L Losses. It’s also about everyday disappointments. About the ways life doesn’t go how we thought it would. About fractured friendships. Missed opportunities. Parenting moments we wish we’d handled better. Even subtle shifts in identity as we age or grow.

Grief is woven into all of it.

And when people don’t recognize that—when they try to outrun, deny, or shut down those feelings—they often become difficult. Not because they’re bad people, but because they’re in pain they haven’t been able to process. I came across a concept in my reading that stuck with me: a lot of so-called “bad behavior” is really unacknowledged grief.

That idea reoriented the way I see other people—and myself.

Think about it: the colleague who lashes out when a project changes direction? Maybe they’re grieving control. The friend who withdraws after a falling out? Maybe they’re grieving the loss of safety or closeness. The child who melts down after a change in plans? Maybe they’re grieving dashed expectations in the only way they know how.

We all grieve. Constantly. And most of us don’t even realize we’re doing it.

Which brings me back to emotional regulation. We talk a lot about it these days—especially in parenting, therapy, and mental health conversations. But what if regulating emotion is, at its core, really about learning how to manage grief? Not just suppress it or get over it, but actually go through it: to feel, to name, to release, and to adjust.

That’s not easy work. It wasn’t for me. There were moments I wanted to bypass the feelings entirely. But what I’ve learned—what I keep learning—is that allowing yourself to grieve, even the small things, creates space for clarity, resilience, and connection. It makes you softer, not weaker. More grounded, not more fragile.

And perhaps most importantly, it gives you compassion for others. When you see grief everywhere—in big and small forms—you become a little less reactive and a little more understanding.

Grief is hard. It changes you. But it also teaches you how to live with more presence, more tenderness, and more truth.

So yes, I believe now that grief is at the heart of emotional well-being. Learning to grieve, in all its forms, might just be the most powerful thing you can do for yourself—and for the people you love.