The Theory of Choice: What Grief Has Taught Me
This past year has reshaped me in ways I’m still discovering. Losing both my parents within twelve months is a sentence I never imagined writing, yet here I am, navigating the aftershocks, the quiet moments, the unexpected strength, and yes, the choices.
Because grief, as it turns out, is full of choices. Not the big cinematic ones... the small, silent ones that happen inside your mind long before you speak or act. The choice to get up. The choice to keep going. The choice to let yourself feel something. Or not.
Along with who's having this and who's having that. What flowers would they want, what songs did they like, shall we have hymns and readings at the funeral. Celebrant or Vicar. Can you speak, will you speak, do you WANT to speak at the funeral.... it's neverending.
And something has been reinforced in me, something I already knew but it's been highlighted even more: Choosing not to do something or not to have an opinion, is still a choice.
People have had a lot of opinions about how I should be grieving. Slow down, take time off, stop everything, “don’t push yourself.” and my personal favourite, Be kind to yourself....(what does that even mean...). I know it comes from care but it’s also made me realise how strongly we’ve been conditioned to believe there’s a “correct” way to grieve.
There isn’t. There’s only your way.
Mine has surprised some people… but it hasn’t surprised me.
Everything Changed and I Kept Driving
When my dad died, it was 6.30 one Tuesday evening and I was on my way to teach a dance class. I rang my sister to see how Dad was doing and she said, what are you doing, it's not good news. He's just gone. It was quick... only 15 minutes earlier. She'd arrived to see him and within 40 minutes, he was gone. The world tilted, and for a moment everything went silent. But I kept driving. You should probably go home she said..... No I said, I'm fine. I have to go.
Not because I didn’t care. Not because I was avoiding the pain. But because in that strange, suspended space, I could feel him with me and I could hear exactly what he would’ve said:
“We don't let people down in this family. Go and get on with it.”
People were waiting for me, depending on me. Waiting to rehearse, to try on costumes. We were building up to a show. And at that fork in the road, literal and metaphorical, I made a choice. I showed up, queitly and did the job... no one needed to know what had happened on my journey to class. The show must go on.
Then I went home and began to grieve.
That decision isn’t one I’d prescribe to anyone else. Grief is personal. But it was the right choice for me.
After my mum died the year before, I stepped back from certain things because I simply didn’t know how to grieve yet. By the time Dad went, 11 months later, I understood myself. I understood what helped and what didn’t. I understood that stopping would have broken me far more than carrying on.
What My Parents Taught Me
My parents raised me on simple, steady values: Show up. Keep your word. Don’t flake. Do the right thing even when it’s hard.
And even though their bodies couldn’t stay, their presence hasn’t gone anywhere. I feel them around me constantly. Which is why I could make peace with their passing. I would never wish them back into bodies that were tired and broken.
This weekend we’ll be burying their ashes together, and I’m not walking into that moment with guilt, regret, or pressure. I’m walking into it with calm. With strength. With a strange kind of clarity.
Because I know, deep down, they’d be proud of how I’ve carried on.
The Heart of My Philosophy
All of this is constantly shaping the work I do and the programme I’m building, a philosophy rooted in something simple but powerful:
Our minds are the architects of our reality. And our emotional world is built on choices, conscious or not. The Power of Positive thought - Mojo Motivator Style!
We choose what we feed. We choose what we starve. We choose how we show up. We choose how we weave meaning out of chaos. And in my darkest moments, choice has been a saviour for me. We can't always change what happens to us but we CAN choose how we react. We can choose to be irriated by someones habits or we can choose to love them for their quirks.
If you’re walking through something heavy right now - grief, uncertainty, change. I want you to know that this isn’t about being strong all the time. It’s not about ignoring your pain or painting over it with positivity.
It’s about recognising that you do have a say in how you carry it. You have power, even in the places that feel powerless.
And sometimes, the smallest choice is the one that saves you.
I’d love to hear your thoughts
Fran x