What Grief Really Looks Like (Hint: It’s Not Just Sadness)

When people hear the word “grief,” most immediately think of sadness. Maybe they think of someone isolating themselves or crying. And yes, sadness is absolutely part of it, but it’s not the whole story. Grief is more complex than that. It shows up wearing all kinds of masks: anger, guilt, numbness, even laughter that feels completely out of place. I know this firsthand. Within the span of a single month, I lost two incredible people in my life, my best friend of 19 years, and my grandfather. Each loss ripped through a different part of me, and grief quickly became something I couldn’t avoid, ignore, or reason with. It was intense. And it looked nothing like what I expected.

When I lost my grandfather, I was heartbroken. He had lived a long life, and part of me had expected this. But the reality of it still hit hard. Although his death was expected, this loss stirred up guilt. Guilt for not calling more. Guilt for missing his last birthday. Guilt for feeling like I hadn’t said goodbye. And here’s the thing about grief-related guilt, it lingers. It brings up regrets, both big and small, and makes them feel monumental. I found myself questioning choices I made years ago, as if somehow those decisions had power over the present. That’s the irrational part of grief, logic doesn’t apply.

Then, a few days later, I lost my best friend, it was like the floor dropped out from under me. She was my person—the one who knew all my stories, my secrets, my anxieties. She was the one I called to cry, rant, or just exist with when things got heavy. Losing her felt like losing a limb, like I had to learn how to balance without a part of myself. But strangely, in those first few days, I didn’t cry as much as I thought I would. I was numb. I floated through my days, gathering photos for her funeral, contacting mutual friends and her family members, and responding to people who said kind things, but I wasn’t in my body. I was just moving. Her passing not only made me feel numb, but angry at the fact that someone so young could pass away without living through all the experiences we dreamt about together, becoming roommates, our wedding days, and summers together with our families.

So, within a month, I had experienced numbness, guilt, and anger, none of which are traditionally associated with grief in the way we usually talk about it. And that’s why I’m sharing this. Because grief isn’t just one thing. It isn’t linear. You don’t move through it step-by-step like a to-do list, which I had once thought. One day, you might feel hopeful. The next, you’re drowning. And sometimes, those feelings exist side by side.

I also want to say this, grief is incredibly personal and unique. Some people cry every day. Others throw themselves into work. Some people want to talk, and others need space. There’s no “right” way to grieve. For me, I found comfort in speaking aloud to my loved ones as if they were still here, reading (A LOT) of books, and writing in my journal. And also, oddly, in watching really bad TV. I needed those moments of escape, those small breaks from feeling everything all at once.

If you’re grieving right now, I want you to know that whatever you’re feeling—whether it’s sadness, rage, numbness, relief, or confusion—it’s valid. You’re not broken. You’re human. And if you’re someone trying to support a grieving friend, remember that you don’t need to “fix” it. Just be there. Sit with them in their mess. Listen without trying to make it better.

Grief isn’t just an emotion. It’s an experience. One that shifts and evolves over time. Some days you’ll feel okay, and then a smell, a song, or a memory will hit you out of nowhere and you’ll be right back in it. That doesn’t mean you’re going backward. It just means you’re healing in your own way, in your own time.

So no, grief isn’t just sadness. It’s a an all consuming experience. It’s painful and strange and, at times, even beautiful. Because to grieve deeply is to have loved deeply. And that love doesn’t disappear when someone is gone—it just changes form.

If you’re looking for ways to process grief or help someone else through it, here are a few resources that might help:

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