Where truth returns. Where silence ends. Where we begin again.
This Part is a place for truth-telling, especially the kind that doesn’t fit into small talk or sympathy cards.
Whether you’re here to read, to feel seen, or to speak your truth someday…
you’re exactly where you need to be.
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Read the Stories
Visit the blog for raw, unfiltered words.
From the founder. From others.
From the middle of it all. -
Why This Part Exists
Find out where this space came from and where it’s going.
Meet Kristina and Ryan, the voices behind the movement. -
Support the Work
Your support helps us cover costs and grow the vision.
Every contribution helps, whether it’s financial or through time, skills, or support behind the scenes.
If you want to help, there’s a place for you here.
FAQs
Q: What is This Part, exactly?
A blog? A support group? A personal diary?
This Part is a storytelling platform and community space for people living through grief, caregiving, identity loss, and the quiet unraveling that often goes unnamed. It’s not therapy. It’s not coaching. It’s a place for the truths we’re not supposed to say—written, shared, and witnessed.
Q: Why does this matter?
Because most people are grieving something, and almost no one feels allowed to talk about it.
Because our culture rewards performance over honesty, it tells us to move on, stay strong, and smile through it, no matter what we’ve lost.
But unspoken pain doesn’t disappear.
It isolates. It festers. It convinces you you’re the only one not “handling it well.”
This Part exists because there’s a gap between falling apart and being “okay again,” and that gap is where most people live.
We don’t just lose people.
We lose versions of ourselves.
We lose identities, bodies, dreams, our purpose, and futures. And the world just expects us to keep going, like nothing happened.
This space matters because naming what hurts is part of healing.
Because honesty is a form of care.
Because silence doesn’t protect us—it disconnects us.
And because when we tell the truth, especially the messy, complicated truth, we help someone else feel less alone in this part, too.
Q: Who is This Part for?
If you’ve ever held it together while everything around you fell apart, this is for you.
It’s for the strong ones, the caregivers, the grieving-not-crying, the quietly unraveling, the cycle-breakers, the survivors of the “in-between.”
You don’t need a diagnosis, a death certificate, or a neat story arc to belong here.
Q: Is this religious or spiritual?
This Part is a secular space, but we’re not afraid to talk about the sacred.
You might see us call out spiritual bypassing or name the harm done in the name of “faith” or “positivity.” We may explore spiritual themes—like loss of meaning, trust, identity—but we don’t promote any particular belief system.
This is a space for truth, not doctrine. All are welcome, and nothing is pushed.
Q: How can I support This Part?
Share our posts
Submit your story
Join our email list
Tell your people
If you’re able: donate, sponsor, or collaborate
Q: Is this a grief group or a mental health resource?
Not exactly. This Part isn’t therapy, and it’s not a traditional grief group either.
We’re not here to diagnose, treat, or tell you how to heal.
We're here to make space for the stories and emotions that usually get buried. Right now, that looks like storytelling, connection, and truth-telling in all its messy forms.
We may hold community groups in the future. But whatever we offer, it won’t be about fixing you. It’ll be about finally having somewhere to put what you’ve been carrying.
That said, we deeply believe in mental health support and are happy to point you toward professional resources if that’s what you need.
Q: Why is it called This Part?
Because no one talks about this part.
The part where everything changes and you're still expected to smile.
The part where you’re not who you were, not yet who you’ll become—and no one’s asking how you're doing.
We named it so we could start telling the truth about it.
Q: What kinds of grief do you talk about?
All of them.
Grief that follows loss.
Grief that precedes it.
Grief that comes with identity shifts, caregiving, medical trauma, and surviving things no one can see.
If you’re holding it, we want to hold space for it.
Q: Is this still a grief space if I’m laughing through my breakdown?
Here’s the thing: grief doesn’t always look solemn and sad. Sometimes it sends memes, makes deadpan jokes, or laughs at the worst possible moment.
Because that’s how the nervous system copes when the soul is overwhelmed, humor becomes the pressure valve.
Dark humor doesn’t mean we’re not taking it seriously.
It means we’re taking it seriously enough to know that if we didn’t laugh, we’d probably lose it completely.
We don’t make fun of pain here.
We just make room for the weird, raw, contradictory ways it shows up.
Because for many of us, humor isn’t just relief.
It’s resistance. It’s survival.
And honestly? Sometimes it’s the only thing keeping us from adopting yet another cat.
Q: Can I share my own story?
Yes—please do. You don’t have to be a writer. You don’t have to have it all figured out.
We welcome full essays, partial thoughts, anonymous confessions—whatever truth you’re ready (or almost ready) to share.