Grief is a sneaky little beast. One moment you’re trying to microwave leftovers and the next you’re crying into a soggy paper towel because a song from 2003 reminded you of someone you lost. Grief doesn’t RSVP or stick to a neat schedule. It barges in like it owns the place, makes a mess of your emotions, and overstays its welcome. So, how do we handle grief when it refuses to play by the rules?
Well, this isn’t your typical “five stages” grief manual. You won’t find any soft violin music, poetic platitudes, or advice to “just stay positive” here. This is a non-traditional guide — honest, slightly irreverent, but rooted in emotional intelligence. And yes, we’re going to talk about happiness — not the performative kind, but a raw, resilient, unconditional kind that grief can’t steal.
Let’s begin.
1. Forget the Timeline — Grief Doesn’t Own a Calendar
There’s this myth that grief has an expiration date. Three months? Six months? A year? At what point are you supposed to “move on”? Let’s get something straight: grief is not a subscription you can cancel.
Real talk — you don’t “get over” loss. You grow around it. It doesn’t shrink, but you expand. So take your time. Whether your grief comes in quiet sighs or dramatic meltdowns in Trader Joe’s, it’s valid. Progress isn’t linear, and neither is healing.
What to try instead:
Give yourself permission to grieve differently each day. One day you might laugh at a memory; the next you might cry because you dropped your keys. It’s all part of the same sacred process.
2. Stop Trying to Be “Strong” — Be Real Instead
Let’s debunk another gem of cultural wisdom: “Be strong.” What does that even mean? Suppress your emotions so other people don’t get uncomfortable? Pass.
True strength is being honest about your pain. It’s letting the tears fall at awkward moments. It’s saying, “I’m not okay today,” without apologizing for it. Grief isn’t a performance. You’re not auditioning for a role in Braveheart: The Mourning Years.
Try this instead:
When someone asks how you’re doing, tell the truth. Or at least your truth in that moment. Vulnerability is powerful — not weak.
3. Laugh — Even When It Feels Illegal
Grief and laughter seem like they shouldn’t hang out in the same room. But sometimes, your most cathartic healing will come from humor. The ridiculousness of life after loss can be darkly funny: like how your loved one used to snore like a moose, and now you miss it. Or how people say wildly unhelpful things like, “Everything happens for a reason,” while you’re trying not to throw a croissant at them.
Laughter doesn’t mean you’ve moved on. It means you’re still alive. And joy can coexist with sorrow.
What to try:
Watch a dark comedy. Listen to a podcast that makes you snort-laugh. Call a friend who understands your weird sense of humor. Let yourself have that release — guilt-free.
4. Create a Ritual That Has Nothing to Do with Sadness
Memorials are beautiful, but they’re often shrouded in heavy emotion. Try creating a new ritual that honors your loved one and sparks happiness.
Maybe you bake their favorite cookies and then eat the entire batch while watching trash TV. Or you dance to their favorite song in your kitchen every Sunday. Or you donate to a cause they loved while blasting Lizzo in your car.
The point is: Grief doesn’t have to be heavy all the time. You’re allowed to inject meaning with a little mischief.
5. Feel Everything — Especially the Stuff That Makes No Sense
Grief makes room for strange emotions: relief, guilt, rage, gratitude. Sometimes all at once, like an emotional smoothie nobody asked for. You might feel guilty for laughing, relieved they’re no longer suffering, or angry at the world for just…moving on.
These are normal. And you don’t need to justify them to anyone.
Helpful practice:
Journaling, voice notes, interpretive dance — whatever your outlet is, let those confusing feelings move through you. Unfelt emotions don’t disappear; they marinate.
6. Redefine “Happiness” — It’s Not What You Think
Unconditional happiness doesn’t mean walking around with a perma-smile while rainbows shoot from your pores. It means learning how to hold sorrow and joy at the same time without letting either one consume you.
This happiness is quieter. It lives in small acts — a breath of fresh air, an unexpected giggle, a hug that lands just right. It’s not about being okay because someone is gone. It’s about being okay even though they’re gone.
Try this mindset shift:
Instead of chasing happiness, look for presence. Can you be here, right now, with whatever emotion is visiting you? That is the foundation of peace.
7. Build a Life They’d Be Proud of — But Make it Your
There’s beauty in legacy — continuing someone’s impact, living in their honor. But don’t make your healing a tribute performance. Your life belongs to you. The people we lose didn’t live perfect lives, and you’re not obligated to create one either.
Take risks. Be messy. Laugh too loud. Start new dreams. You’re not dishonoring them by living fully — you’re honoring the fact that you still get to.
A good question to ask:
“If they could see me now, would they be happy that I’m surviving — or that I’m actually living?”
Healing Isn’t About Getting Over Grief. It’s About Getting Into Life.
Grief never fully leaves you. It just changes shape. But happiness — the deep, resilient, unshakeable kind — can still be yours. Even amid heartbreak. Especially amid heartbreak.
So here’s your permission slip: to cry, to laugh, to dance badly, to feel weirdly okay some days and wildly unhinged the next. There’s no roadmap. Just you, navigating the wild terrain of loss with honesty, humor, and heart.
And that, friend, is how we grieve — not with perfection, but with permission.
