Welcome & Hello.

The Quick & Dirty:

I’m Dana Frost, a Grief Advocate, a Cancer Survivor, & a Writer. I am the founder of both the Forced Joy Project (an organization that provides support and resources to those experiencing loss) and the Forced Joy Club (an online community to help better navigate the complexities of grief). I am the creator of the Book of Stories, a keepsake book that captures individual stories of your passed loved ones from friends and family. In my spare time, I run retreats for both widows and young adults with cancer.

Life is full of so much heartache, and, I strive for a life of full, unbridled joy.

The Deep Dive

I’m no stranger to grief.

When I was 28, I was diagnosed with cancer. This experience changed me (as most life-altering experiences do) and this “remarkably self-contained” (as a therapist once described me) introvert found her voice. It gave me the space to share my story. When everyone else was busy getting married and having babies and buying houses, I was documenting my fight to stay healthy.

Then, when I was 33, my husband, Brad, stole the thunder with a cancer diagnosis of his own. And always one to one-up me, his diagnosis was a terminal one. And once again, while other millennials were getting promotions and having more babies and getting divorced, we were sharing about our mortality.

I always told Brad I wanted to go first (before our dog, Dune, too). I just wasn’t cut out for grief. I was, as Brad called me, his "little joy maker.” I liked romantic comedies and fast-forwarding through difficult scenes. I liked holidays and festive soirees. I liked impromptu dance parties in grocery stores and elevators and kitchens. Brad planned for our future and I kept our present light and fun. So when Brad died first, I was Pissed with a capital “P." (Actually I was Devastated with a capital “D," but in the early days my grief manifested itself as the easier to express emotion: Anger with a capital “A.")

But like battling my own diagnosis and being a caregiver during Brad’s diagnosis, becoming a 33-year-old widow broke me open. I no longer wanted to be “fine” and I didn’t want anyone else struggling to settle for "fine" either. I was tired of suffering in silence, knowing I wasn’t alone in my pain. There is power to our individual stories - especially our stories of trauma and struggle.

And because life isn’t fair, and just because you stepped in shit once, doesn’t mean you won’t step in shit again, in 2018, I became the caregiver to my dying dad for the last 18 months of his life.

Shit, right?

But here I am, proving day in and day out that, in spite of all the shit, joy still exists.

Think of me as your older grief sister. The one who’s been through the shit and lived to tell the tale (knock on wood). I’ve been through it. Like many of you, I don’t have expertise, but I have experience. Lots and lots of experience. I share about that experience in the Hello, From the Other Side Series.

Joy Still Exists

If there’s one thing I’ve learned over the years, it’s that grief and joy can coexist.

It’s a strange weight, carrying both grief and joy. Carrying both the loss of my beautiful past and the hope of my beautiful future. Carrying the feelings of mourning along with the feelings of celebration. I used to think you could only hold space for one - either the sorrow or the joy. But life has shown me over and over again that it’s not only possible to feel both, but it’s likely. 

Currently, I get joy from #dailydips in Lake Michigan, snuggles with my puppies, and adventures with my partner, Nate. I love to dance, even though I’m terrible at it - and am trying to better embrace loving things I’m bad at.

Support the Work

Subscribing supports my work as a writer and grief advocate. This lets me know that you value my work, my words, and my voice.

I believe in keeping my content free for everyone because when I was a young, grieving, widow, this is exactly the type of content I craved and needed. I write for that girl.

I also believe in paying writers for work that you find valuable. Because of this, there is a paid subscriber option. You don't get extra content or perks (not now at least), but your financial contribution tells me you find my work worthwhile, and for that, I am forever grateful.

Whether you are a free or paid subscriber or just stumbled here from the interwebs, thank you for being here. If you find my writing useful, please share.