There are no stages of grief. The popular idea that people move through predictable phases—denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance—was never meant to describe how people grieve.

These “stages” came from research on individuals facing their own impending death, not from people mourning a loss. Over time, the model was misunderstood and applied where it doesn’t belong.

More importantly, grief does not follow a straight line, a checklist, or a sequence. It does not unfold neatly or in order.

Grief is a deeply personal, non-linear experience that changes from moment to moment, day to day, and year to year. People may feel anger in the morning, peace in the afternoon, and sadness by evening—all without being in a “stage.”

Trying to fit grief into stages can make people feel like they’re grieving “wrong,” or that they should be further along than they are. It can create pressure, shame, and confusion when their experience doesn’t match the model.

In reality, grief is shaped by love, personality, culture, relationships, circumstances, and the meaning of the loss—making every grief experience unique.

There is no right way to grieve, no timeline, and no sequence to follow.

Grief doesn’t happen in stages.

Grief happens in waves—each one asking to be felt, understood, and honored in its own time.

Strength in grief is not about holding it together. It’s about allowing yourself to feel and be human.

When the expectation is to be strong, grievers can feel pressured to suppress their emotions for the sake of those around them.

The act of “being strong” often discourages authenticity, isolates the grieving person, and isn’t a good example for others.

Time only creates distance from the moment of loss, not healing from its impact.

Grief doesn’t dissolve simply because days, months, or years pass. In fact, when pushed aside, grief can intensify over time, settling deeper into the body and mind, impacting mood, relationships, and overall well-being.

Healing requires more than waiting for time to pass - it requires attention, support, and meaning-making.

Time does not heal grief. What heals grief is what we do with our time.

Crying is a natural and healthy response to emotional pain and grief. It is the body’s built-in way of releasing accumulated tension and emotional toxins—much like sweating during a run.

Crying can also soften what feels tight, overwhelming, or “stuck” inside, giving the nervous system a chance to reset. It our body doing exactly what it’s designed to do.

What matters is not whether we cry, but whether we feel safe enough to express our emotions in whatever form they arise.

Equally important, not crying does not mean we’re not grieving because people express grief in a variety of ways.

Grief can appear as exhaustion, restlessness, overworking, withdrawal, anger, irritability, numbness, or simply surviving.

On the other hand, the act of intentionally holding back tears suppresses the body’s natural process of release, allowing unexpressed grief to settle deeper into the body and mind.

All grief is valid—whether it pours out as tears or lives quietly beneath the surface. Both deserve understanding, compassion, and care, and neither is a sign of weakness.

After a loss, people often hear messages like “Don’t feel bad, they wouldn’t want you to be sad,” or “They’re in a better place.”

But loss is sad, and grieving people naturally long for the loved ones they’ve lost. Encouraging avoidance or forced positivity doesn’t make grief disappear; it simply pushes it out of sight, where it can deepen, accumulate, and linger.

Statements like “Just move on,” “Get over it,” or “You should be over this by now” are deeply harmful to grievers because they deny the real, human experience of loss.

These messages imply that grief has an expiration date, that emotions should be controlled, and that the person’s pain is inconvenient or excessive.

Instead of offering comfort, they create shame and pressure—making people feel as though something is wrong with them for still hurting.

These phrases also oversimplify something profoundly complex. Grief isn’t a switch you turn off; it’s a natural, adaptive response to love, connection, and loss.

When someone is told to “move on,” they may try to bury their emotions, appear “fine,” or detach from their own experience just to meet others’ expectations.

At its core, grief is not a problem to be solved—it’s a process to be honored. Encouraging someone to “get over it” shuts down the connection, compassion, and understanding that grieving people need most.

Likewise, expecting ourselves or others to be “over it” in a set amount of time is not just unrealistic—it’s harmful. The impact of loss isn’t measured in days or months; it’s measured in how fully it has been acknowledged, expressed, and integrated.

We don’t “get over” grief.

We learn to live with it, carry it, and weave it into the story of our lives.

Keeping busy may help us get through the day, but it won’t help us move through our grief.

Even distractions can offer us temporary relief, but avoiding our grief doesn’t make it disappear—it simply postpones it.

When we push our grief aside, it accumulates, settles deeper into our body and mind, and becomes harder to face over time.

Statements like “You’re still young,” “You can have another baby,” “You’ll meet someone new,” or “It’s just a pet—get a new one” are often said by people who don’t know what else to say, but they can unintentionally minimize the depth of someone’s pain.

Grief is not interchangeable. A new partner, a future child, or any other life change cannot erase the meaning of the person, companion, or relationship that is gone. Every bond carries its own memories, dreams, and emotional landscape.

Encouraging someone to “replace” what was lost can leave them feeling misunderstood, pressured, or even ashamed for still hurting.

More importantly, it denies the uniqueness of the relationship, the hopes that were attached to it, and the identity or future that was imagined with that someone—or something.

A grieving person can feel completely alone even when surrounded by others, because grief changes their world in ways that others may not see or fully understand.

In the days and weeks after loss, support may be abundant, but as life moves on for everyone else, grievers are often left carrying the weight of loss quietly and unseen.

Additionally, many people are taught to deal with painful emotions privately or to keep their feelings to themselves. But grief is a deeply human experience that calls for connection, not isolation.

When people grieve alone, the magnitude and weight of their loss often intensifies.