Wearing the Mask: Navigating Hidden Grief in the Workplace

Introduction

I recently posted on social media about Rachel Reeves shedding a few quiet tears in Parliament. A moment that quickly became headline news. It prompted a wider reflection for me, not only about the way society responds to visible emotion, but about what happens when emotion goes unseen.

It got me thinking about the pressure many of us feel to mask our feelings, especially in professional settings. And more personally, about times in my own life when I’ve carried grief into work without others knowing. When I felt the weight of something heavy, and still showed up with a smile. Answered emails. Joined meetings. Made small talk like nothing was wrong.

The Unseen Grief We Carry to Work

Not all grief is obvious. And not all grief is recognised. For many of the people I work with, grief takes forms that are less visible and harder to talk about. A relationship that ended. A hoped-for pregnancy that didn’t happen. The slow loss of health or independence. A difficult family dynamic. Redundancy. Retirement. A future that suddenly looks different.

This is often called disenfranchised grief. The kind that doesn’t always get acknowledged by the people around us. When there’s no funeral, no formal language of loss, no clear milestone to mark the change, it’s easy for others to carry on as if nothing has happened.

And often, we do the same. We push down the ache. We plaster over the cracks. We carry our grief quietly and carry on.

When Pretending Becomes a Pattern

There’s an unspoken expectation in many workplaces to be productive, professional, and presentable. Even when life behind the scenes is anything but.

So we perform. We smile when we’re sad. We say “I’m fine” when we’re not. We give our energy to staying composed, capable, and efficient. Sometimes because we’re afraid of falling apart, and sometimes because we simply don’t feel allowed to do anything else.

But holding it all in takes effort. There’s a cost to bottling things up. To pretending we're OK when we’re not. It can feel like being stuck on a hamster wheel. Outwardly moving forward, but inwardly depleted.

For some people, the cracks only show when they get home. The moment the front door closes, the mask slips. The tears come. The exhaustion hits. And it’s no wonder. It takes so much energy to appear “fine” all day when you’re quietly grieving something that no one sees.

The Loneliness of Unacknowledged Grief

One of the hardest parts of disenfranchised grief is the isolation. When no one around you acknowledges your pain. Or when you convince yourself it’s not “valid” enough to name. It can start to feel like you’re grieving alone.

And that loneliness is only made worse when you keep dismissing your own feelings. When you talk yourself out of your sadness. When you say things like “It’s not a big deal” or “I should be over this by now” or “Other people have it worse.”

But the truth is, your grief matters. Even if it’s quiet. Even if no one else sees it. Even if you’re the only one holding it.

Letting the Mask Slip, Even Just a Little

Sometimes, the shift begins by allowing yourself to soften. To stop performing. To admit, even privately, that something hurts. That something has changed. That something deserves to be felt.

You don’t have to fall apart. But you don’t have to hold it all together either.

Counselling can be the space where you don’t have to wear the mask. Where you don’t have to prove anything or push through. Where your sadness, your confusion, your questions all have room to breathe.

It’s not about being fixed or being told what to do. It’s about being witnessed. About making space for what you’ve been carrying. About remembering that you don’t have to do it alone.

In Closing

If you’ve been quietly carrying grief while trying to hold everything else together, I see you. It’s exhausting. It’s lonely. And it’s not your fault.

You deserve space to rest. To feel. To be. You deserve to take off the mask, even just for a while.

If any of this resonates with you, and you're navigating a time of change, loss, or uncertainty, counselling can offer a gentle space to make sense of it all. You’re very welcome to reach out.