A Substack for disabled and chronically ill creatives, about art, loss, and finding ways to stay part of the world


Hi, I’m Malu (she/her).

I’m an artist, disabled and living in the Netherlands. Born in the 80s, very much a millennial. This space is shaped by my values. It is inclusive, anti-ableist, and rooted in care. I believe in making room for difference, in questioning systems that exclude, and in art as a way to stay human in a world that often asks us to shrink.

I started making art after brain tumor surgery in early 2023 left me disabled and without a usable voice. I developed a severe speech disorder and had to rebuild my life from scratch, which was and still is quite a thing to do. Writing and drawing became a way to stay present, to process what changed, and to reconnect with myself and others.

This Substack is part of that.


If this feels familiar

This Club is for you if you’re trying to live a life that no longer follows the script you were given. If you’re making adjustments others don’t see, carrying losses that don’t always have words, and finding your way without a clear next step. It’s not about becoming better or stronger. It’s about staying connected, paying attention, and making room for what’s actually there.

I write for:

  • people who didn’t choose this life, but are living it anyway

  • disabled, chronically ill or neurodivergent people who are tired of adjusting, and look for community

  • artists who make work where it fits, not where it’s supposed to happen

  • people who lost a job, a role, or a future they thought was obvious

  • those who don’t have a new dream yet, just a lot of questions and fears

  • anyone who uses art or writing to stay connected with others and themselves

  • readers who don’t need fixing, motivating, or cheering up, they just want honest stories.

If you’re here because something in you shifted and never quite shifted back,
this is probably for you.

Text continues below the images



Why The Quiet Grief Club exists

The Quiet Grief Club is a space for the kinds of grief that don’t always have language. Small losses, daily adjustments and the things you miss that others don’t see. It’s not about fixing or overcoming, it’s about noticing, naming, and making room.

If you recognize some of this, you’re in the right place, welcome in the Quiet Grief Club.


Read along, you’re not alone!


Stay up-to-date

Never miss an update, every new post from me is sent directly to your email inbox. For a spam-free, ad-free reading experience and community features, get the Substack app.

User's avatar

Subscribe to The Quiet Grief Club

For disabled & chronically ill people, grieving the lives they didn't get to live

People