When Life Hits Different: A Real Talk Guide

Loss hits different when you’re used to being the one with the mic, setting the rhythm, controlling the narrative. Whether you’ve lost an infant, a young family member, or someone just getting started, grief can leave you feeling like the beat dropped out completely. But here’s the thing about hip hop culture – you know how to find the rhythm again, even when the music stops.

This isn’t about toxic positivity. This is about real strategies from people who’ve walked this path. Let me share Amy’s story – a 19-year-old dancer who faced terminal illness with the same confidence rappers bring to the stage – and how her journey teaches us to navigate grief with strength.

1. Build Your Coping Arsenal – Like Perfecting Your Flow

Every great MC has go-to techniques when they need to deliver. When Amy’s world got flipped by a rare blood disorder, she pulled from every skill she’d developed: breathing techniques from childhood therapy, staying present from dance training, visualization during medical procedures – watching herself from above to create emotional distance from chaos below.

Your move: Start building your grief toolkit now. Maybe it’s journaling, music production, prayer, meditation. When loss hits, you’ll have your arsenal ready. Like a freestyling artist from years of practice, your coping skills need to be ingrained for when words fail and emotions run high.

2. Control Your Information Flow – Master Your Narrative

In hip hop, controlling your narrative is everything. Amy got this. She shared medical updates once daily with family – period. No constant check-ins, no emotional chaos bleeding into every moment. She protected her mental space like a producer protects their beats.

“I’ve got this Mama,” she told her mother. “I need to do this my way.” Boss-level boundary setting.

Your move: Decide how you want to handle your grief journey. Designate one family spokesperson. Set specific times for difficult conversations. Remember – just because people care doesn’t mean they get unlimited access to your pain. Your healing process, your rules.

3. Find Your Sacred Rhythm – Music as Medicine

We already know music is medicine, communication, survival but are we using it now. Amy discovered this when words weren’t enough. During ICU moments, she chose harsh music with angry lyrics – a window into her rage. Music became her language when words failed.

But as her condition changed, so did her playlist. Near the end, she found anchor in “Jesus Loves Me,” a childhood lullaby that held her when medical equipment couldn’t. A supporter sent worship songs daily for 59 days, becoming the rhythm for her mother’s grief dance.

Your move: Don’t judge your grief playlist. Need angry songs? Play them. Sad songs? Hope songs? All valid. Create playlists for different grief phases – sometimes you need raw rage, sometimes introspection, sometimes hope.

4. Wear Your Confidence Like Armor – Find Your Power Symbol

When Amy needed strength, she wore red. After she passed, her mother discovered her own confidence ritual – red underwear. Hidden but powerful, this simple practice connected her to Amy’s strength. Her “secret superpower” against uncertainty.

Your move: Find your power symbol. Your loved one’s jewelry, specific shoes that make you feel strong, carrying their photo, playing their song before difficult conversations. Not superstition – intentional connection to strength. Like performers’ pre-show rituals, create rituals that connect you to courage.

5. Keep Your Gifts Moving – Legacy Through Action

Amy kept teaching, dancing, sharing gifts even while fighting for life. Her last earthly dance was teaching online to students who didn’t know she was sick. She found her purpose and refused to let circumstances kill it.

Her family established a dance scholarship. Her feet keep moving through other dancers. Her story inspires through these words.

Your move: What gifts transcend your circumstances? How can your loved one’s memory impact others? Mentor young artists, create scholarships, use your platform for awareness. Music transforms pain into purpose, struggle into strength. Your grief can fuel something meaningful that outlasts immediate pain.

The Real Talk

Confidence in grief isn’t about having answers, it’s trusting your ability to learn the dance as music plays, one step at a time. Amy believed she could handle her journey her way, so she did.

This matters especially for your community, where showing vulnerability feels risky, where you are expected to be strong for everyone else. But real strength isn’t hiding pain, it’s moving through it with intention and grace.

Whether you’ve lost an infant, young family member, or anyone whose story felt cut short, remember: your grief has its own rhythm. Some days you’ll be ready for the cypher. Some days you’ll need to sit out. Both are okay.

The goal isn’t “getting over” loss, it’s learning to carry love in new ways while showing up for life. Your story isn’t over. The beat goes on. Sometimes, keeping time with grief is the most courageous performance you’ll ever give.

If you’re struggling with infant loss, know that your pain is valid, your love is powerful, and your journey forward matters. Keep creating, keep believing – the world needs what you have to offer.

Article written by Raewyn Elsegood

Sydney chaplain Raewyn Elsegood writes and speaks on finding joy amid grief after losing her daughter, appearing on TV, radio, and delivering workshops. Her first book 21 GIFTS: A Sacred Dance through Grief and Healing releases in 2026. You can find more grief tips on her You Tube @ChaplainsGriefInsights or join the journey here.