My teenager won't talk about their grief and seems withdrawn. What should I do?

Silence is also a language. Mirabai knew the difference between the quiet of presence and the silence of avoidance, and she didn't demand that her devotion look loud. Some people — and especially teenagers — grieve inward first. Resist the urge to force conversation. Instead, create space where talking becomes possible without pressure. This might mean sitting beside them without agenda, offering to go for a walk, or simply saying: "I've noticed you're struggling. I'm here whenever you're ready." Teenagers are navigating an identity that's already fragile. Grief compounds that. They may feel shame about how they're grieving, worry they're "doing it wrong," or fear burdening you with their pain. Name this gently: "I know this is hard. You don't have to perform your grief for me." Watch for changes that signal deeper struggle: complete social withdrawal, self-harm, substance use, or talk of not wanting to be here. These need professional intervention — not because grief is shameful, but because your teenager needs more support than presence alone can offer. Meanwhile, stay curious without interrogating. Comment on what you notice: "You seemed quieter today." Share your own feelings sometimes. Let them see grief modeled as something you can survive. And know that some teenagers need a grief counselor or therapist more than they need a parent, and that's not a failure — it's them finding the right container for their pain.