You don’t have to read this all at once.
It’s okay to skim, pause, or come back later.
Take what resonates. Leave the rest.

Most people come to grief without preparation

No map.
No language.
No warning for how disorienting it can be.

This page isn’t here to tell you how to grieve, or how long it should take.
It’s here to offer some gentle grounding, and to name a few things many people experience but rarely get told.

If this is your first time here, go slowly.
If it’s not, take what you need and leave the rest.

First things first: grief is not a problem to solve

Grief is not a set of stages you pass through in order.
It isn’t something you “get over” by doing it properly.
And it isn’t a sign of weakness, failure, or lack of resilience.

Grief is the natural response to loss.
It’s what happens when love has nowhere to go.

That means it can be messy, contradictory, and unpredictable … even when you’re doing everything “right”.

If all you take from this page is that grief isn’t something to fix, that’s enough.

What grief can feel like (and why it’s often confusing)

People often expect grief to feel like sadness alone.
In reality, it can show up in many ways … sometimes all at once.

Grief can look like:

• exhaustion that doesn’t match what you’ve done

• brain fog, forgetfulness, or difficulty concentrating

• waves of longing, anger, guilt, or numbness

• changes in sleep, appetite, or tolerance for noise and people

• moments of laughter followed by sudden pain

None of this means you’re grieving badly.
It means your body and mind are responding to something profound.

Grief moves in rhythms, not straight lines.

There is no “right” timeline

Grief does not run on a schedule.

Some days you may feel functional, even steady.
Other days, the weight can return without warning.

This doesn’t mean you’re going backwards.
It means grief moves in cycles, not straight lines.

You are allowed to still be grieving long after others expect you to be “better”.

Still being here counts, even on the days that feel heavy again.

Why advice often misses the mark

Well-meaning people may offer:

• timelines

• silver linings

• comparisons

• encouragements to be strong, grateful, or positive

Often, this happens because grief makes other people uncomfortable.

They want to help. They just don’t know how to sit with pain.

If advice feels minimising, alienating, or wrong for you, you’re not imagining it.

You’re allowed to set boundaries around what you take in.

A few gentle things that can help

There’s no formula. But many people find it useful to:

• focus on getting through today, not the future

• lower expectations of themselves

• rest more than feels “reasonable”

• find one or two people who can listen without fixing

• allow grief to coexist with moments of normality or relief

You don’t need to do all of these.
Even one small anchor can be enough for now.

You are not required to carry this well.

If you want understanding, at your own pace

Grief can make it hard to absorb words on a page.

If that’s the case, you might prefer to:

• Listen and watch — gentle conversations you can take in without effort

• Explore Grief Myths Unpacked — to unlearn ideas that may be making things harder

• Move toward Seeing Yourself — where stories and art offer recognition rather than explanation

When reading feels possible again,

our Grief Literacy hub offers deeper explanations and printable guides you can return to in your own time.

You’re allowed to choose the path that feels least demanding right now.

A quiet permission

You don’t have to understand grief to be in it.
You don’t have to make meaning, find purpose, or grow from this.

Being here; breathing, surviving, loving … is enough.

→ Explore Understanding Grief.