There comes a point in grief when sadness can become so familiar that happiness begins to feel uncomfortable.

You may want to be happy. You may miss laughing without immediately feeling guilty afterward. You may remember what it was like to wake up excited about the day instead of simply trying to survive it.

But when an opportunity for happiness finally appears, something inside you may pull away.

You stop yourself.

You tell yourself it doesn’t feel right.

You wonder how you can possibly enjoy your life when someone you love is no longer here to enjoy theirs.

And sometimes, without even realizing it, grief stops you from trying to be happy.

When Sadness Becomes Familiar

Grief changes your definition of normal.

In the beginning, everything feels wrong. The silence feels wrong. Your home feels different. Holidays feel different. Birthdays feel different. Even ordinary Tuesday mornings can suddenly feel unbearable.

Eventually, though, you learn how to exist inside that sadness.

You develop routines around it.

You learn which memories you can think about without completely falling apart. You learn how to answer “How are you?” without explaining what is really happening inside you. You learn how to smile when you’re supposed to smile and excuse yourself when the emotions become too much.

Sadness becomes familiar territory.

Happiness, strangely enough, can start feeling unfamiliar.

And unfamiliar things can be frightening.

Happiness Can Bring Guilt

One of the hardest emotions that can accompany grief is guilt.

You laugh at something and immediately think:

How can I be laughing when they’re gone?

You have a good day and wonder whether you’re forgetting them.

Someone invites you somewhere and part of you wants to go, but another part whispers that enjoying yourself somehow dishonors the person you lost.

You might even begin believing that your grief proves how much you loved them.

So if the grief becomes lighter, you worry that maybe the love is becoming lighter too.

But love and suffering are not the same thing.

You don’t have to remain miserable to prove that someone mattered.

You don’t have to spend the rest of your life hurting every second to demonstrate the depth of your love.

Your love can remain enormous even when you begin allowing happiness back into your life.

Sometimes We Stop Trying

This is one of the parts of grief people don’t talk about enough.

Sometimes happiness doesn’t disappear because there are no opportunities for it.

Sometimes we stop reaching for those opportunities.

You decline invitations.

You stop calling people.

You stop doing things you once enjoyed.

You tell yourself, “What’s the point?”

Eventually, your world becomes smaller.

You go through the motions. You handle responsibilities. You make it through another day.

But you’re no longer really looking for moments that might make you smile.

Not because you don’t want happiness.

Because you’re afraid of what happiness might mean.

“Moving Forward” Can Feel Like Leaving Them Behind

People often tell grieving people that they need to “move on.”

I don’t particularly like those words.

When you deeply love someone, you don’t simply move on from them.

You carry them.

You carry their memory, their voice, their lessons, their jokes, their personality and the ways they changed your life.

What you can eventually learn to do is move forward while carrying them with you.

There’s a difference.

Moving forward doesn’t erase the past.

Creating new memories doesn’t destroy the old ones.

Laughing again doesn’t mean you’ve forgotten their laughter.

Loving people who are still here doesn’t mean you love the person you lost any less.

And being happy doesn’t mean your grief has disappeared.

It simply means grief is no longer allowed to take every part of your life.

You May Be Afraid Happiness Won’t Last

Grief teaches you something terrifying:

Everything can change.

Once you’ve experienced a devastating loss, happiness can begin to feel dangerous.

You might think:

Why get excited when something could go wrong?

Why love deeply when people can disappear?

Why build another life when life can destroy everything without warning?

So you protect yourself.

You lower your expectations.

You stop getting excited.

You stop dreaming.

You convince yourself that if you never become too happy, you’ll never have as far to fall.

But living that way doesn’t protect you from grief.

It only prevents you from experiencing some of the good that still exists.

Happiness Doesn’t Have to Be Huge

When you’ve been grieving for a long time, the idea of “being happy again” can feel overwhelming.

So don’t start there.

Don’t pressure yourself to suddenly become the person you were before your loss.

Instead, look for small moments.

Drink your coffee somewhere peaceful.

Watch something that makes you laugh.

Listen to a song you love.

Take a drive.

Sit near the water.

Have dinner with someone who makes you feel comfortable.

Watch the sunset.

Cook something you enjoy.

Talk about the person you miss.

Let yourself smile when a good memory appears.

Happiness doesn’t always return with fireworks.

Sometimes it returns quietly.

A smile.

A conversation.

A peaceful afternoon.

A moment when you suddenly realize:

I actually enjoyed today.

Those moments matter.

Grief and Happiness Can Exist Together

One of the biggest misconceptions about grief is that eventually sadness disappears and happiness replaces it.

That isn’t necessarily how it works.

You can miss someone terribly and still laugh.

You can cry in the morning and enjoy dinner that evening.

You can have an amazing day and still wish more than anything that your loved one were there to experience it with you.

Two things can be true at once.

I miss you.

And:

I am grateful to still be here.

Those truths don’t cancel each other out.

They can live together.

You Are Not Betraying Them by Living

There may come a day when you realize you’ve been surviving for so long that you’ve forgotten you’re still allowed to live.

That’s an incredibly difficult realization.

Because survival becomes comfortable.

Wake up.

Get through the day.

Go to sleep.

Repeat.

But eventually, you may find yourself wondering whether there could still be something more.

New friendships.

New experiences.

Travel.

Love.

Purpose.

Laughter.

Peace.

Maybe even happiness.

Allowing those things into your life doesn’t erase the person you lost.

Their place in your life cannot simply be replaced.

The memories you created together belong to you forever.

But your story is still being written.

Start Trying Again

Maybe today isn’t the day you suddenly feel happy.

That’s okay.

Maybe today is simply the day you decide you’re willing to try.

Try accepting the invitation.

Try calling the friend.

Try visiting somewhere new.

Try returning to something you once loved.

Try sitting outside and noticing something beautiful.

Try making plans for next week.

Try imagining a future without immediately feeling guilty for having one.

You don’t need to rebuild your entire life today.

Just take one small step toward it.

Your Happiness Does Not Diminish Your Love

If you’re struggling to let yourself be happy because someone you love has died, remember this:

Your sadness is not the only evidence that they mattered.

Your memories are evidence.

The stories you tell are evidence.

The lessons you carry are evidence.

The ways they changed you are evidence.

The love that still lives inside you is evidence.

You don’t need to destroy the rest of your life to prove that their life mattered.

You can honor someone by remembering them.

You can honor them by speaking their name.

You can honor them by helping others.

And sometimes, you can honor them by refusing to let death take two lives instead of one.

Grief of the Day

If grief has stopped you from trying to be happy, don’t pressure yourself to suddenly become happy.

Start smaller.

Give yourself permission to experience one good moment without apologizing for it.

Then another.

And another.

Some days grief will still win.

Some days you’ll miss them so much that happiness feels impossible.

But other days, sunlight will break through.

When it does, don’t immediately close the curtains.

Let it in.

You can grieve and still laugh.

You can remember and still make new memories.

You can miss someone and still look forward to tomorrow.

You can carry tremendous sadness and still experience moments of genuine joy.

Most importantly, you can love someone who is gone with everything inside you while still allowing yourself to live the life that remains.

Has grief ever made you feel guilty for being happy, and what helped you begin giving yourself permission to enjoy life again?