Here’s what I know about grief: it doesn’t follow rules.
It doesn’t move in neat stages. It doesn’t wrap up on anyone else’s schedule. And it doesn’t look the same from one person to the next.
So, if you’ve been wondering whether you’re doing it wrong, let share something with you. There is no wrong way to grieve.
Some of us go into action mode immediately. We make the calls, sort the paperwork, organize the memorial, clean out closets. We become a machine of efficiency because doing something feels better than sitting still with the weight of it all.
Others of us shut down. Cancel everything. Sleep fourteen hours or lie awake staring at the ceiling. Move through the day like we’re walking underwater.
Both of these are completely normal.
Both are your nervous system trying to protect you from something it doesn’t quite know how to hold yet.
Shock Hits First. The Real Grief? That Comes Later.
In those first days and weeks, a lot of people feel oddly… fine. Numb, maybe. Functional. There might be tears, sure, but also this strange calm. Like you’re watching yourself from outside your body, going through the motions.
This isn’t denial. It’s shock.
Your brain knows that feeling the full weight of this all at once would be too much. So, it parcels it out in doses you can handle. The deeper, harder waves often don’t hit until later. Sometimes it hits weeks or months down the line, long after everyone else has adjusted and expects you to be “better.”
When that delayed wave crashes over you, it can feel really confusing.
Why is this hitting me NOW?
But nothing’s wrong with you. The shock just wore off, that’s all.
Grief unfolds in layers. There’s no rushing it.
Please Be Gentle With Yourself (And Each Other)
One of the hardest things about grief is the expectations we carry.
“I should be over this by now.”
“They don’t seem upset enough.”
“Why can’t I just move on?”
“Why is she still falling apart?”
There’s no finish line here. No trophy for getting through it fastest. No gold star for holding it together.
When we judge grief, ours or someone else’s, we add a whole second layer of pain. Now we’re not just grieving. We’re also feeling bad about how we’re grieving.
Let yourself be wherever you are.
Let other people be wherever they are.
Even if it doesn’t match what you thought grief was supposed to look like.
What Grief Actually Looks Like
It can show up as:
- Throwing yourself into projects
- Not wanting to see anyone
- Feeling irritable over small things
- Needing to talk about it constantly
- Feeling restless and unable to sit still
- Taking care of everyone else’s feelings
- Forgetting basic things
- Crying in unexpected moments
None of these mean you loved the person more or less. They’re just reflections of how you’re wired, your attachment style, the way your nervous system processes overwhelming things.
I see this in my work with attachment patterns: people who learned early on to be self-reliant tend to pull inward when they’re hurting. People who learned to be the caretaker keep themselves busy managing everyone else’s emotions.
Understanding this can help. Judging it doesn’t.
Ways to Support Yourself Through This
You can’t fix grief. But you can be gentler with yourself while you’re in it.
Let the waves come.
When a big feeling hits, try just naming it instead of pushing it away.
This is sadness.
This is anger.
This is me missing them.
Feelings move through a little easier when we acknowledge them.
Build tiny anchors into your day.
Grief is disorienting. Small, steady things help:
- A morning walk around the block
- Lighting a candle at the same time each day
- Keeping a consistent bedtime
- One text or call with someone who gets it
These little rituals give you something to hold onto when everything else feels uncertain.
Say their name.
You’re not going to forget them by moving forward. Love doesn’t vanish because you start functioning again. Healing doesn’t erase memory.
Sometimes we hold onto the pain because we’re worried:
If I stop hurting this much, does that mean they didn’t matter as much?
No. It doesn’t mean that at all.
Healing isn’t forgetting.
Healing is learning to carry the love differently.
Accept that people will be imperfect.
Some people will say the wrong thing. Some will avoid mentioning it at all. Some will show up in beautiful ways you didn’t expect.
Try not to measure your grief by other people’s responses. Find one or two safe people who can sit with you in it. That’s enough.
Watch for the delayed stuff.
If months later you suddenly feel foggy, exhausted, or emotional out of nowhere, check in with yourself: Is this grief showing up now that I finally have space to feel it?
Delayed grief is incredibly common. It’s not backsliding. It’s just… timing.
Moving Forward Isn’t the Same as Moving On
I don’t love the phrase “moving on.” It sounds like leaving someone behind.
I prefer “moving forward,” because that’s what actually happens. You integrate the loss into your story. You carry them with you in a different way.
There will be a day when you laugh without feeling guilty about it.
When you make plans without that heaviness sitting on your chest.
When a memory brings a smile before it brings tears.
That’s not betrayal.
That’s love finding a new shape.
If You’re the One Supporting Someone Who’s Grieving
Don’t try to manage their timeline.
Instead of:
- “You should get out more.”
- “Stay strong.”
- “They wouldn’t want you to be sad.”
Try:
- “I’m here.”
- “Tell me about them if you want to.”
- “There’s no rush.”
Just showing up matters more than any perfect thing you could say.
Grief isn’t a problem to solve.
It’s a process to live through.
Some days you’ll feel almost normal.
Some days you won’t.
Both are part of it.
Be gentle with yourself.
Be gentle with the people around you.
There’s no wrong way to love someone.
And there’s no wrong way to grieve them.
Warmly,
Molly A. Summers, P.C.C.
Life Coach & Author
Thank you for spending this time with me inside “Journal for Focus, Feelings & Follow-Through“
I hope these words remind you that your attachment style is not your whole story — and you don’t have to navigate change alone.
If you’d like more gentle support, my virtual coaching and self-guided book are here for you anytime.
Schedule your free call or explore my books at coachingwithmollysummers.com.

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