The Unspoken Grief Nurses Carry (And How We Begin to Heal)
- Brigitte Sager
- Apr 25
- 3 min read
A Conversation That Hit Deeper Than Expected
Last month, during one of our Functional Nursing Membership MeetUps, I sat down with the intention of leading a discussion on how stress and trauma impact our patients. But as I mentally prepared for leading the discussion, something shifted. Instead of staying purely clinical, the topic and conversation became deeply personal. We found ourselves opening up about what it really means to practice as a nurse—the unseen burdens we carry, the emotional scars left by the work we love.

What started as a professional conversation turned into something much more emotional than I anticipated (at least for me). We talked about nurses practicing through the pandemic, the unsafe conditions so many of us have endured throughout our careers, and the heartbreak of watching our coworkers, and sometimes ourselves, experience harm in environments that should have been safe. It became clear: the emotional labor of nursing is profound, and often unspoken.
The Silent Weight Nurses Carry
Nursing is often described as a calling, a vocation rooted in compassion and healing. Yet few outside the profession understand the grief that can silently accumulate over time.
The patient you lost after doing everything possible.
The unsafe staffing ratios that forced you to choose between "acceptable" and "impossible."
The guilt, the fear, the helplessness in moments when systems failed patients—and you.
And then came the pandemic, amplifying every crack in the system, pushing nurses into battlefield conditions with little support and even less recognition. We didn't just witness trauma. Nurses lived it.
Why This Matters Beyond Nurses Week
As we approach Nurses Week, many of us brace for the familiar gestures: a pizza party, a trinket, a "Thank you for all you do." But what we truly need cannot be boxed into a single week or summed up with a slice of cake.
We need recognition of the emotional wounds we carry. We need safe spaces to process our grief. We need systemic change—not just sentiment.
I've recently thought: every hospital in the country should erect a statue outside its doors honoring the nurses, physicians, respiratory therapists, and staff who risked—and in many cases, lost—their lives during the pandemic. A permanent reminder that we are not disposable. That our sacrifices are worthy of remembrance, not just a fleeting "thank you" once a year.

The Path Toward Healing
While systemic change is slow, there are small but powerful ways we can begin to heal:
Acknowledge the Grief: It's real. It's valid. Naming it is the first step toward reclaiming your spirit.
Seek Connection: Find communities that understand the unique emotional landscape of nursing. You are not alone. Connect with your nurse peers.
Prioritize Mental Health: Therapy, peer support groups, meditation, journaling—whatever helps you process and release the weight you carry.
Create Personal Rituals: Lighting a candle for a lost patient, taking a walk after a hard shift, saying a prayer or affirmation. These acts of acknowledgment matter.
Advocate for Change: Your voice matters. Pushing for safer staffing ratios, mental health resources, and true leadership accountability are acts of healing too.
We Deserve More
To every nurse reading this: Your pain is real. Your service is extraordinary. Your healing matters.
This Nurses Week, I hope you feel celebrated—but more importantly, I hope you feel seen. Not just for what you do, but for what you carry, and for the spirit you bring into a system that needs your light more than ever.
We can't undo the past, but we can honor our journey. We can heal, together.