The Courage to Grieve
Why our grief-phobic culture needs a new narrative
When
first picked up her pen to write about loss, she had no intention of becoming anyone's grief guru. A seasoned communications consultant who had spent years helping Olympic athletes and corporate executives craft their public narratives, she thought she knew everything about storytelling. Then life handed her a story she never wanted to tell.What began as private journaling after a devastating personal loss has evolved into "The Grieving Place," a Substack newsletter that reaches thousands of readers seeking what Mitchell calls "grief literacy"—the emotional vocabulary most of us were never taught. Her approach is both radical and simple: instead of rushing people through their pain, she advocates for a "grief-informed" society that acknowledges loss as a fundamental part of the human experience.
What follows is a candid discussion about the intersection of personal transformation and public service, the responsibility that comes with giving voice to others' pain, and why
believes the blank page isn't just a place for self-expression—it's a laboratory for social change.
Q: What's the story behind your story? Walk us through the pivotal moments or experiences that shaped you into the writer you are today.
I have always loved to write. When I was younger, I had a journal. It was in many ways my best friend. I entrusted it with my secrets, my hopes, my fears and my dreams. My journal didn’t judge and my pen didn’t lie.
As I grew older, I wanted to be a journalist. I wanted to share other people’s stories. I remember my English teacher telling me that journalists weren’t story tellers, they were factual raconteurs. They were the brave ones that would try and piece together what happened and give those involved a voice.
While I completed my journalism degree, I never practiced as one. Instead, I became a communications specialist, serving on several Olympic Teams as a media attaché and Press Chief. It felt more in alignment with my values to be the one creating the stories, not reporting on it. That perspective held true for many years as a communications and crisis management consultant.
I loved helping people shape and tell their story, especially in their darkest moments. I reminded them that it wasn’t what happened that counted; it was more how they chose to respond that would define who they were. And that is what people would remember most.
I’ve written two books. The first was focused on sharing what I’d come to know about values-based leadership through my Master’s research on Management by Values. It remains a helpful guide book for leaders who want to identify, define and measure their impact in alignment with their values.
The second book is called Grief Unleashed: Moving from the Hole in our Hearts to Whole-Hearted. This book traces my experience as a bereaved sister and provides readers with the grief literacy required to navigate life’s most difficult transitions.
Since publishing my Substack The Grieving Place, I have devoted myself to bringing grief informed research to my subscribers so we can alleviate unnecessary suffering.
This work is soul work.
Q: Publishing is just the beginning. What's the most courageous, creative, or personal risk you've taken since starting your Substack; something that pushed you far beyond your comfort zone?
Sharing my views on the importance of creating a loss literate society has become an ethical imperative for me. It now feels riskier not to share, than to put my views out there for the world to take in. I find it liberating to express what so many people have been conditioned to suppress. I also see how my work is serving others. I receive messages of gratitude from strangers that serve as fuel and inspire me to keep writing.
Q: The blank page can feel like a judgment waiting to happen. For those writers sitting on the sidelines, paralyzed by the fear of criticism or failure, what would you say to help them take that first brave step into sharing their authentic voice?
I feel like Substack is a wonderful place to be who we truly are. In my experience, it’s my authenticity and the passion I have for grief and loss that is attracting people. I would invite people to spend some meaningful time reflecting on why they are on Substack and how writing makes them happy. It’s hard to ‘stay the course’ if we aren’t mindful and intentional about why this work matters to us. Here’s a few helpful reflection questions:
1. Consider what you hope people will receive from your Substack. Answer this question: “I hope people will receive …” and let this guide how you bring your Substack to life.
2. How does your Substack align with your values?
3. In what ways does your Substack bring you joy? How might you design your Substack so that it is a sustainable and joy-filled experience?
Q: Reading can be passive, but transformation requires action. What's the most courageous step you believe a reader can take after being moved by something you've written?
I love it when readers write to me and acknowledge that something I’ve written touches them. I always try to respond,, as I know how I feel when I reach out to an author and they respond. I feel that the world needs more authentic connection, not less. We never know the impact we can have on someone by reaching out and connecting with them.
Q: There's a fine line between authentic vulnerability and emotional exhibitionism in public writing. How do you navigate sharing your truth while protecting your inner sanctuary?
This is a really beautiful question. I might start by acknowledging that someone’s authentic vulnerability might be considered as emotional exhibitionism by others. I remain convinced that when we are living in alignment with our values and write from that place, it will attract those that feel drawn to our words. In essence, and I know this flies in the face of conventional wisdom, I am my most important reader. I write my way into being. My words shape my world. By being true to myself and sharing my experiences and thoughts on grief and loss, I hope that people suffer less. I also try to be evidence-informed and helpful to my readers, as so many of them are longing for coping practices, support, and information to help them heal their broken hearts. I take my mission very seriously and strive to maintain a healthy balance between achieving my vision and what others might gain by reading my work.
Q: Every meaningful piece of writing contains an element of risk—whether it's challenging popular opinion, revealing personal truths, or exploring uncharted territory. What's the biggest creative or personal risk you've taken through your writing, and how did it change you?
I feel that I am living into my purpose so it no longer feels risky to put my work out there. I am also conscious that I am challenging cultural norms and a dominant grief phobic narrative, which can be polarizing.
For the most part, I receive notes of gratitude from people, saying how helpful my posts are and how validated they feel. Interestingly, one person wrote that “I should just get over it, already.” Instead of getting angry or defensive, I thanked him for his comments and proceeded to share how this mindset is one that I held for so long and could appreciate why he felt that a timeline to our grief made sense.
We agreed to disagree, and I feel good about not trying to “push my grief agenda” on to others. What I do advocate for is a grief informed approach to our laws, workplace policies, and education of our healthcare professionals.
We can all use a little loss literacy.
Q: Reinvention requires dismantling the comfortable cage of who we used to be. For established professionals or thought leaders feeling trapped by their own success but afraid to evolve, what wisdom would you offer about the courage required to start over?
When loss rips through our life, we often don’t have the luxury of sitting in deep contemplation. Loss is everywhere and too often, it provides the exam first, the lesson plan after. Some losses are so significant that they change who we are, shattering our assumptive world. In those instances, we are left picking up the pieces of our lives, without a map or compass.
I feel it takes tremendous courage to “begin again” or “explore what’s next.” As I’m a leadership coach, I often meet with clients who are straddling uncertainty, volatility and complexity and are unsure of where to turn to next. I would invite them to:
Acknowledge their current situation. Notice the limiting beliefs and what might be holding them back. Consider how your values might be compromised by not exploring the next chapter.
Consider how a ritual might help create more space to let go of what was and allow you to step towards something new? Rituals are intentional, symbolic, acts that can help us make meaning. They are powerful instruments of change that can ease our transition. We can engage in ritual to help us say goodbye to something or celebrate a milestone. They are powerful moments that can provide clarity, connection, and grant us the courage to move through the liminal space we find ourselves in.
Explore the risks of staying and the risks of leaving. Sometimes staying requires more courage than leaving.
Envision your new chapter through a creative expression. Songs, poetry, drawing, body movement and dance are ways to have us imagine something new. Making use of creative elements can help us see the invisible.
Q: If you could sit across from yourself on the day before you published your first piece, knowing everything you know now about this journey, what essential truth would you share?
Just do it. Start small. Stick with it. Don’t compete. Forgive yourself. Have fun. Get curious. Explore what feels right. Stay open. Create community. Laugh. Cry. Be generous. Stay true. Be you.
If you enjoyed this interview and resonate with
way of being, subscribe and reach out! She would love to hear from you.
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@Magdalena Ponurska - Thank you for this rather engaging conversation with @Dina Bell-Laroche . Her story is powerful. I remember watching her Live on Substack and was struck by the way she spoke to grief as a complex, essential part of being human. What resonated most for me was her framing of grief not only as personal but also as a societal experience. There’s something innately human in how she weaves storytelling, ritual and leadership into a framework that honors grief as transformative, rather than something taboo or unspeakable. We need more voices like hers disrupting our grief-phobic culture and giving people permission to name what has long gone unnamed. This is soul-healing work and it very much aligns with how I see transformation unfolding in relation to our health and wellbeing.
I liked this unique and insightful conversation with Dina and followed her publication. Thank you for another empowering interview, Magdalena. I admire your community work, introducing us to inspiring creators here.