The Horseshoe Wrinkle of Grief
This year, I have walked through profound loss…loss that has left me hollow at times, unsure of how to carry the weight of absence. And when I pause long enough to face myself in the mirror, I see it, not only in my eyes, but written into my skin. Grief has a way of leaving its fingerprints on the body.
I recently learned that one of the most striking places grief shows itself is on the forehead: a soft but unmistakable crease, often shaped like a horseshoe.
At first, this particular wrinkle may feel like a scar, evidence of sorrow’s heaviness pressing against our face, shaping us without our permission. It can feel cruel, like an outward sign of the ache inside; the chest that still tightens, the days that feel emptier than they once did. But if I shift my perspective, I begin to see this divine emblem differently. Grief wrinkles are not only a mark of loss. They are also a metaphor, a symbol, and, perhaps most importantly…an invitation. A horseshoe, after all, is more than a curve of metal. It is a symbol of protection, of luck, of journeys still unfolding. It’s hung over doors to keep watch, carried as a talisman for safety, discovered in fields as a sign of blessing.
So what if this “grief wrinkle” etched across foreheads are not a punishment but a sacred marking? A reminder that even through devastation, we are being carried toward meaning, resilience, and renewal?
When I think of running my fingers across that curve that may come my way, I perceive it as a threshold; a bridge between what has been lost and what is yet to come. The horseshoe holds both: the emptiness left by absence and the wide, unseen opening for future blessings. All wrinkles are not here to diminish me. I choose to believe they here to remind me that love has left its mark, that I have cared so deeply, my body remembers. That my face is now a canvas for both grief and grace. Grief wrinkles are not flaws. They are maps. They show where we have traveled through heartbreak, and they point us toward who we are becoming.
So the next time you, or I, catch sight of that curve in the mirror, may we soften. Instead of seeing only age or sorrow, may we see a a heavenly emblem. A reminder that we have loved deeply, survived devastating losses, and are still standing.
And perhaps, just perhaps, that blessed wrinkle is more than a horseshoe. Perhaps it is also a crown; the quiet crown of those who have rode through the valley of shadow and are still brave enough to face the sunrise.
Reflections:
What has grief etched onto your body, your life, or your spirit that you might reframe as a sacred symbol?
How might your own “horseshoe wrinkle” be protecting or guiding you into what’s next?
Can you allow your body to be more than a surface, can it be a storyteller of love, loss, and renewal?
By Liz Landon, Certified Hypnotist, Healing Expert & Creator of the Release Resistance Formula™
