Grief is a very misunderstood topic. Whether it’s the frequently misinterpreted Kubler-Ross model of the “five stages of grief” or people’s well-intentioned but misguided efforts at advice on how you “should feel,” discussions around grief are often awkward, uncomfortable, and full of misconceptions.

People who have lost someone close to them can often feel like their grief becomes a burden on others. Society seems to push the notion that the grieving process is a linear progression with a clear expiry, and it leaves you feeling like there is something wrong with you if you haven’t “moved on” with your life.

I’ve experienced plenty of loss in my life, including from war, mental health, and sickness. The losses hit me differently each time, and my grieving process was never easy or predictable. I learned how to grieve my way, ascribing rituals of remembrance that provided an opportunity to express my feelings and honor their memories in the ways that I felt were best.

However, when I lost my wife to cancer, I saw a different side of grief – one that involved unimaginable pain and suffering. There was no escape from the emotions, and it became a journey of learning how to live again despite the crushing grief. It became a path of trial and error, with no clear road map of steps to take – or pitfalls to avoid.

One of the many lessons I learned about grief is that there is no such thing as moving on, especially if it is a traumatic loss. You must learn how to move forward with your life in a world rife with judgment and assumptions. Life impedes by serving you reminders of loss, and your mind interferes by introducing defeating and limiting self-beliefs.  

You feel self-conscious about your choices because you fear criticism from people who cannot possibly imagine what you are going through. You wonder what’s wrong with you for hurting so badly when you see everyone else moving on with their lives. You feel like a failure because you aren’t meeting others’ expectations about how quickly you should return to your old life. Your negative thoughts accumulate, and you learn to keep your feelings to yourself because you don’t want to sound like a broken record and burden others.

Part of me died with my wife, frozen in eternity, locked in a time of innocence when the world was a little bit simpler and easier. I worked hard to ensure I didn’t remain stuck in that hole. I found that growth occurs, but it is a journey. You keep stumbling down your painful path, eventually learning to carry your burden more effectively. You continue rebuilding your life, compensating for the loss you’ve experienced.

If you know someone grieving, recognize the power of your words. They are already struggling with stigma, internal dialogue, and pressure in their journeys. Your words must be chosen carefully because they can strengthen connection or increase alienation. Empathy and compassion become crucial skills to demonstrate support and foster growth.

If you are grieving, take charge of your path in moving forward. Language is important, particularly around the labels we associate with ourselves. Your internal dialogue can become internalized as beliefs that shape your identity. Moving on implies you leave something behind, whereas moving forward means becoming a new version of yourself.

You can shape who you become. Your feelings of self-doubt and guilt don’t create who you will become—your actions do. You can’t choose your feelings or thoughts, but you can control how you respond to them. I could have allowed my feelings of bitterness and resentment to shape my behavior. But I knew that in the process of moving forward, I had some control over my direction.

Queen Elizabeth said, “Grief is the price we pay for love.” Although grief can be excruciating, I try to view it as a gift. My grief reminded me of the love that I possessed and the opportunity presented – to become even more compassionate, grateful, and loving. My struggle gave me numerous gifts I continue sharing with my loved ones.

Although you will never move on, you will move forward. It’s a difficult journey filled with struggle, but through that struggle comes growth. Embracing the struggle allows you to shape who you become.

Recommended Reading:

It’s Okay that You’re Not Okay by Megan Devine. Megan is a psychologist who became a widow, and her book provides a deep dive into the misconceptions around loss and grieving.