Make Something Ugly
Grief doesn’t care if it’s pretty. It doesn’t arrive styled, edited, or polished—and neither does your expression of it need be. I’m really, really into the idea of messiness and wildness lately. This simple ritual is an invitation to let go of perfectionism and meet your grief exactly where it is: tangled, raw, uneven, messy.
I call it: Make Something Ugly.
What You’ll Need:
One sheet of paper (any kind—printer paper, an envelope, a grocery bag will do)
Crayons, markers, colored pencils, pens—whatever you have
A space where you won’t be interrupted for a few minutes
The Ritual:
Set the Intention
Before you begin, take a breath. Close your eyes if it helps. Say to yourself: “This doesn’t have to be good. It doesn’t have to make sense. This is not for display. This is for release.”
Make It Ugly—On Purpose
Fill the page with something deliberately imperfect. Maybe it's scribbles that don’t match, shapes that clash, wild color choices, jagged lines, unreadable words. Let it be too much. Or not enough. Let it be awkward, confusing, jarring.
Ask yourself:
What would it look like if I let my grief draw itself?
What if I didn’t correct or clean it up?
What if ugly was sacred?
Notice What Arises
As you move your utensil, notice any judgments. (“This looks ridiculous.” “I hate this.” “What am I even doing?”) Gently thank the voice and keep going. That’s part of the ritual too.
Close with Care
When the page feels done—or you’re just done—set it down. Look at it for a moment. You don’t need to love it. You don’t even need to understand it. Say: “I made space for what needed out. That is enough.”
You can keep the page, bury it in a drawer, tear it up, or burn it safely. Let it become compost, not a masterpiece.
Why This Matters
Perfectionism can be one way grief hides or that we practice avoidance. It says, “Don’t make a mess. Don’t be too much. Don’t fall apart where anyone can see.” But healing is a messy process. Beauty grows from truth, not tidiness. When we give ourselves permission to be imperfect, we open the door for what’s real to move through. So today, make something ugly. And let it be beautiful in its refusal to perform.
