Why You Feel Like You’re Failing at Grief (And Why You’re Not)

In nearly every conversation I have with someone in early grief, the same quiet confession eventually surfaces: "I think I'm doing it wrong."

Sometimes there is a little shame weaved into this statement. Other times, confusion. And always some judgement. The judgement we impose on ourseves & the one we have internalized from others.

This belief, that there must be a right way to grieve and that you are somehow not doing it right, is one of the cruelest inheritances of a grief-illiterate culture. A culture that prizes productivity, composure, and closure. A culture that rarely makes space for what grief actually is: messy, non-linear, disorienting, and sacred.

You are not failing at grief.

You are moving through one of the most profound experiences a human being can have. Of course your sleep is irregular. Of course you can't remember simple things. Of course your body feels heavier, your emotions unpredictable, your motivation and sense of meaning shattered. This is not dysfunction. This is grief living in the body, the nervous system, the psyche, the heart, the very fabric of your being.

I've spent years sitting across from grieving people, widows, parents, partners, siblings, friends. And in those sacred conversations, I've witnessed the many ways grief speaks: through silence, through exhaustion, through numbness, through rage, through forgetting to eat, through over-functioning, through collapsing. Not one of those expressions is a failure.

The Myth of the "Right" Way to Grieve

Somewhere along the way, many of us have internalized a belief that grief should follow a predictable arc. That there are stages or phases. That after a certain amount of time, the worst should be over. That if you're still struggling after six months or a year, you're doing something wrong.

This is not how grief works.

Your grief will not unfold according to a timeline. It is not a series of steps to complete. It is not a project to manage. It is a wound that heals in spirals, in regressions, in moments of resilience & strength followed by waves of grief that might bring you to your knees all over again.

It is alive and personal. It reflects not only the depth of your love, but the shape of your life, your history, your nervous system, your capacity, and your losses past and present.

To imagine that all of that could fit into a tidy process is not only false, it’s dishonouring to your very humanness.

Why It Feels Like You're Failing

It feels like failure because you are living in a world that rarely mirrors back the truth of what you're experiencing.

The people around you move on. The workplace expects your efficiency to return. Well-meaning friends say things like "you're so strong" when what you really need is permission to be soft, shattered, and seen. You begin to wonder if you're broken, if you should be better by now, if you're not grieving the way you "should."

If you're crying, remembering, aching, forgetting, surviving, you are grieving. And there is no failure in that. The medicine for grief is to grieve.

A Next Step, If You Need One

If this post speaks to something in you, and you're looking for some structure & support, A Gentle Guide to Early Grief might be a helpful next step.

It’s a self-paced course co-created with Grief & Trauma therapist Amelia Bradaric, born out of our 10 years of combined experience companioning grieving people. It offers guidance for managing expectations of yourself in grief, caring for your heart & nervous system, and tools for navigating relationships that change after loss.

It’s the closest thing to a “how to guide” for early grief.

The course will be available for purchase this April. You can add your name to our waitlist to be notified when enrolment opens.

With love,

Marie