Grief is one of the most personal experiences we can go through. It doesn’t come with instructions, a clear timeline, or a set of rules to follow. And yet, when we lose someone we love, it often feels like the world expects us to grieve a certain way—to cry, but not too much; to take our time, but not too long; to move forward, but not forget.
I’ve learned, through my own journey and through the stories shared with me at Pachamama, that grief is anything but predictable. Some days, it feels distant, like a soft ache in the background. Other days, it hits out of nowhere—a song, a scent, a familiar place—and suddenly, the loss feels as fresh as the first day. If you’ve ever wondered if you’re grieving "the right way," let me remind you: there is no right or wrong way to grieve. There is only your way.
The Pressure to “Move On”
One of the hardest parts of grieving isn’t just the loss itself—it’s how the world around us responds to it. In the beginning, there’s often an outpouring of support. People check in, bring food, send messages. But as weeks and months pass, the world seems to move on while you’re still figuring out how to exist in this new reality.
Maybe you’ve heard things like:
🕊 “They wouldn’t want you to be sad.”
🕊 “You have to be strong.”
🕊 “It’s time to move forward.”
But grief isn’t something you “get over.” It doesn’t disappear just because time passes. It changes, it shifts, it softens, but it remains. And that’s okay. Your love for that person doesn’t have an expiration date, and neither does your grief.
Comparison Steals the Space for Healing
It’s easy to compare our grief to others. Maybe you know someone who seemed to "recover" faster, or someone whose grief looks different from yours. But no two losses are the same, just as no two relationships are the same.
Some people find comfort in talking about their loved one every day. Others can’t bring themselves to say their name out loud for months. Some cry openly, while others process their pain quietly. Some people need to stay busy, while others withdraw.
There is no one way to do this. Grief is as unique as the love we shared.
Give Yourself Permission to Feel (or Not Feel)
One of the things I struggled with after my own loss was the unexpected waves of emotion. There were moments when I felt overwhelmed with sadness, but also moments when I laughed, when I felt okay—even happy. And with that came guilt. How could I feel joy when someone I loved was no longer here?
But here’s what I’ve learned: grief and joy can coexist. Missing someone doesn’t mean you have to be sad forever. Smiling doesn’t mean you’ve forgotten them. Having a good day doesn’t mean you don’t still love them.
If you need to cry, cry. If you need a day to distract yourself, take it. If you find yourself feeling okay, let yourself feel that too—without guilt.
Finding What Helps (Without Pressure to “Heal”)
Grief isn’t something to “fix,” but there are things that can help make the weight of it a little lighter. The key is to find what feels right for you.
🌿 Writing to them – A letter, a journal, even a quiet conversation in your thoughts. Keeping that connection alive in a way that feels meaningful.
🌿 Creating a ritual – Lighting a candle, listening to their favorite music, planting something in their honor. Small acts that bring comfort.
🌿 Talking about them – With family, with friends, or even with a therapist. Keeping their memory alive in conversation.
🌿 Taking moments for yourself – A walk in nature, a cup of tea in silence, allowing yourself space to just be.
Whatever helps, choose it for you, not because someone else says it should.
Your Grief, Your Timeline
If you ever feel like you’re not grieving “correctly” or that you should be further along, I hope you remember this: Grief doesn’t come with a timeline. There’s no deadline for when you should feel better. There’s no rule for how long you can miss someone.
The only thing you need to do is honor your own process. Some days will feel lighter, some days will feel impossibly heavy. And both are okay.
At Pachamama, I’ve heard so many stories from families who have walked this path, each in their own way. And every time, I am reminded of the same truth: grief is not something to be rushed. It is something to be carried—with love, with patience, and in our own time.
If you’re grieving, I see you. If today is a hard day, know that you’re not alone. And if you ever need permission to grieve at your own pace, let this be it.
With love and presence,
Virginia