Why Does Everything I Love Die? Healing a Soul-Level Belief

By Trish Briggs

I was about eight years old when a dog I was deeply attached to died. I remember sobbing from the loss and asking my mother, “Why does everything I love die?”That question came from somewhere deep inside me. It wasn’t rooted in this lifetime—I hadn’t experienced many losses yet. But I felt them. I didn’t know what I was referring to, I just knew they were there. The belief was already ingrained in my psyche. It lived at the soul level.

My grandmother tried to help me understand. She explained that life and death are part of a natural cycle. As an adult, she was trying to show me that grieving is something we all must face. If left unexpressed or unprocessed, grief creates deep wounds. But at the time, I was too overwhelmed with grief to comprehend it.

My child’s mind couldn’t accept that this kind of pain was “okay.” I didn’t yet understand that the depth of our grief reflects the depth of our love—and that this, in itself, is something beautiful.

Instead, my young mind drew its own conclusion: If I don’t love deeply, I won’t hurt deeply.

And so, I began to protect myself. If I didn’t allow myself to get attached—to love something or someone fully—I wouldn’t have to face this kind of pain or vulnerability again. That seemed like the solution.

I carried this strategy into my teens and early twenties. While I couldn’t completely shut out love (it is part of who I am), I loved from a distance. I held my heart back just enough to avoid being vulnerable.

Then I met my husband-to-be, and something shifted. My heart began to feel more deeply again. Soon after, my mother passed from cancer. I spiraled into a subtle depression. Looking back, I believe it was because even though I was allowing myself to love again, I still wasn’t willing to face grief. I hadn’t healed the root.

Time moved on. I had two daughters, and my heart opened wide with love for my family. I became vulnerable to grief again—but now, I was more willing to face it and move through it. Healing began. Slowly, I started to reclaim my power. Because true empowerment comes not from avoiding emotions, but from walking through them.

With each decade, it seemed I lost another loved one, almost like clockwork. I had always heard: What you resist learning in life will persist. This was especially true of my relationship with grief. I was still taking death personally—as if it was directed at me.

But with each loss, I healed a little more. I allowed myself to feel more. I began to see that love and grief are two sides of the same coin—complementary forces.

Eventually, I recalled that moment as a child—asking my mother, “Why does everything I love die?” That was the root. That question held the seed of my dysfunctional relationship with grief. It wasn’t just a passing thought—it was a karmic belief buried deep in my soul. That’s why it had felt so personal, so painful.

This false belief needed to be released. The process required forgiveness, self-love, and a lot of inner reflection. I had to let go of the idea that death was some sort of punishment, or that I had done something wrong. I hadn’t. None of us have. Loss is part of the natural cycle of life.

Belief work is layered and complex. Over time, our beliefs become entangled with experiences from this life—and sometimes from other lifetimes too. It can take years to unravel.

But when you do—when you reach that root—it’s incredibly freeing. That background belief no longer shadows you. It no longer defines you. And when it's finally released?

You’re free to fly!