I’ve lost track of how many kind friends have sent me the TED Talk featuring Nora McInerny, who founded the Hot Young Widows Club and is also an author. (If you’re unfamiliar with this club, consider yourself fortunate. Despite the playful name, it’s a group no one wishes to join. The criteria for membership is high — not about looks or age, but rather a profound loss that alters your life.) In her talk, Nora emphasizes that we don’t simply move on from our grief; instead, we move forward with it.
“A grieving person is going to laugh again and smile again,” she states in her talk. “They’re going to move forward. But that doesn’t mean that they’ve moved on.”
The idea seems straightforward enough. I’ve been a widow for 1,138 days. My familiarity with grief extends even further back if I include the days leading up to my husband’s passing when doctors informed me he had only weeks to live. I thought I understood the concept of moving forward with grief.
If you had asked me just days ago, I would have claimed I was progressing in my grief journey. In the past three years, I’ve bought a new home, started a new career (actually two), and even began dating again. I allowed myself to feel joy and sorrow during birthdays and anniversaries, openly reminiscing about my husband and our shared experiences. I was following Nora’s advice: moving forward while carrying my grief.
But, upon reflection, I realized I wasn’t truly moving forward. Watching friends advance in their lives made me feel as though I was lagging behind.
Last weekend, the man I’m dating (let’s call him Jake for simplicity) invited me to take my kids on a hike with him and his son. I eagerly accepted for two reasons: first, to get my kids away from screens for a few hours, and second, because I was grappling with a wave of grief that I couldn’t fully understand, and I thought fresh air would help.
I pictured a hike as a simple walk along a familiar path to a specific spot, then back again. This led to my choice of platform sneakers, which were a poor choice for what was to come. Instead of sticking to the well-trodden trail, Jake veered sharply off-course, leading us uphill through dense woods.
Before long, we found ourselves climbing over rocks, crossing streams, and navigating boulders. I had no idea where we were headed and struggled to keep my footing. Eventually, we ended up atop a waterfall, gazing down at the hikers who had opted for the easier path — the very route I had always taken.
In that moment, amidst the chaos of grief, a scraped knee from a tree branch (because who wears platform sneakers hiking?), and the dizzying height, I had a revelation about what “moving forward with grief” truly meant. I realized that while I had grasped the “with grief” part, the “moving forward” aspect was not what I had assumed.
I thought moving forward meant merely doing things. I had been busy — buying a house, starting new careers, dating — but when I examined my actions, they didn’t signify actual progress. Yes, I had moved to a new house, but it was just down the street. My daily routine hadn’t really changed.
I embarked on two new careers, but both were hobbies I had pursued before my husband passed. I didn’t step outside my comfort zone. And while dating was a new experience, I often retreated from anything that required me to shift my pre-loss existence.
The truth was that my so-called steps forward were superficial. Instead of advancing, I was shuffling side to side within my comfort zone, clinging to a life I had built with my husband. Even though he was gone, and the version of myself I was with him had disappeared, I found it challenging to accept that my grief now took up more space than my old life allowed.
It took veering off the familiar path and embracing the unknown to understand that “moving forward” is more nuanced than simply being able to laugh and live again after loss. Yes, learning to laugh is an essential step in moving forward with grief. However, standing atop that waterfall made me realize that moving forward also involves recognizing that your future looks different than it did before the loss — and grieving that reality. It means letting go of the past that no longer fits and fully embracing what lies ahead. Sometimes, it may even require taking an unexpected turn, even if you’re in the wrong shoes.
For more insights into topics like this, check out our other articles, including this one on home insemination. Additionally, if you’re interested in understanding fertility better, Make A Mom provides excellent resources. And for those preparing for pregnancy, March of Dimes offers great guidance.
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Summary: This article reflects on the nuanced journey of moving forward with grief after losing a loved one. The author shares personal experiences that challenge the notion of progress by highlighting the importance of acknowledging changes in life and embracing new paths, even when they feel uncomfortable.