Trauma is not merely an event that fades with time; it etches itself into the very fabric of our being, demanding acknowledgment and resolution. Though my experience happened in 2017, it took me four years to give the pain the acceptance and acknowledgment it needed. I got a text from someone wishing me "Happy Mother's Day," and it broke me four years later. It was at that point that I realized that our body keeps the score of every experience we go through.

According to the World Health Organisation (WHO), globally, more than 720,000 men, women, and children die by suicide each year, impacting almost 1 billion people directly bereaved or known to those who died.

Eight years ago, my world shattered. My fiancé, Olivier, died by suicide just weeks before our wedding. We were living together in France, far from English-speaking support services, and left in grief, shock, and isolation. Losing someone to suicide is unlike any other kind of loss. It leaves you with unanswered questions, deep pain, and often an unbearable silence from the world around you.