Grief has a way of humbling us. No matter how prepared we think we are for loss, it arrives without regard for timelines, expectations, or logic. It doesn’t move in straight lines or follow tidy stages. It ebbs and flows, softens and sharpens, sometimes all in the same day.
In my work as a therapist, I often remind clients that grief isn’t a problem to solve or something to “get over.” Grief is a natural response to loving deeply. When someone matters to us, whether a person, a relationship, or a future we imagined, grief is what remains when that bond is altered or taken away.
Many people come into therapy worried that they are grieving incorrectly. They tell me they thought they’d be "further along” by now, or that the sadness wouldn’t still knock the wind out of them months or years later. Others feel confused by moments of laughter or relief and wonder if that means they didn’t love enough.
Grief doesn’t unfold neatly. It can include longing and anger, gratitude and resentment, deep sadness and unexpected lightness. Some losses carry relief alongside pain, especially when there has been a prolonged illness, conflict, or caregiving. These mixed emotions are not signs of failure or disloyalty, they are a part of the complexity of love, life, and loss.
Healing doesn’t mean forgetting or moving on. It means learning how to live in a world that has been permanently altered.
One of the most difficult aspects of grief is how certain dates seem to hold memory in their bones. Birthdays, anniversaries, and holidays have a way of reopening feelings we may have gently folded away for awhile. Even when we think we are managing, the calendar can bring grief rushing back with surprising intensity.
Holidays are especially complex. They are saturated with expectations; togetherness, joy, and tradition and often amplify the absence of who or what is no longer there. People describe feeling pressure to be festive while quietly mourning at the same time. A familiar empty chair, a recipe no longer made by the same hands, a tradition that suddenly feels unbearable, these moments can make loss feel fresh all over again.
What’s important to know is that this resurgence of grief is not a setback. It’s your nervous system remembering connection. Dates hold meaning because love was present there. WHen grief reappears around holidays or anniversaries, it’s not because you are stuck, it’s because your bond mattered.
Therapy can be a space to anticipate these times with compassion rather than dread, to make intentional choices about how to honor your grief, and to give yourself permission to engage with, or step back from, traditions as needed.
Over time, many people find that grief doesn’t disappear, but that it changes shape. The sharp edges may soften. The ache may become quieter. And eventually, the presence of the loss becomes woven into daily life rather than dominating it.
This doesn’t mean that the relationship ends. Instead, it evolves. People find ways to carry memory forward through rituals, stories, values, or quiet moments of remembrance. Grief becomes less about pain alone and more about the enduring connection that remains.
Therapy doesn’t rush grief or impose timelines. It offers a place where all emotions are allowed, especially the ones that feel confusing or socially unacceptable. In therapy, people can speak openly about longing, anger, guilt, relief, numbness, or fear of forgetting. They can grieve losses that aren’t always publicly recognized: miscarriages, estranged relationships, the loss of health, identity, or imagined futures.
Grief needs witness. It needs space. And it needs gentleness. Therapy can offer grief to these experiences.
If the holidays feel heavier than they “should,” if anniversaries leave you raw, or if grief shows up when you least expect it, there is nothing wrong with you. You are responding to love, to connection, and to something that deeply matters.
Grief is not a sign of weakness or failure. It is evidence of attachments. It is love that continues to exist in a different form. And you don’t have to carry it alone.
Callie is a Licensed Marriage and Family Therapist who's passionate about creating a safe and supportive space for individuals, couples, and families. She specializes in helping people navigate life transitions, relationship challenges, anxiety, depression, trauma, and identity exploration. Her approach is collaborative and compassionate. She believes that healing happens when we feel seen, heard, and supported.