Common Myths of Grief

by Claire B. Willis, author, Opening to Grief

In my bereavement groups, I often hear people wonder aloud if they’re grieving right. Someone will say, “This is taking longer than it should, isn’t it?” Or, “I still haven’t been able to move my father’s shoes from the living room. Is that normal?” “I’ve been through the first year, and it’s not feeling any easier. In fact, it feels worse. What’s wrong with me?”

One of the most prevalent myths I hear in groups is the idea that grief unfolds in prescribed and linear stages. Decades ago, researcher and popular author Elizabeth Kübler-Ross described five stages people go through facing death. She later adapted the idea to try to explain grief.

People compare their experiences to Kübler-Ross’ model. When they believe they don’t measure up or experience all the stages of grieving, they feel self-critical or ashamed, as though they are doing something wrong.

Read over these myths. See if you feel burdened by any of them. With awareness, you can become more self-accepting and compassionate toward your own particular expression of grief.

Grief has a timeline.

This really isn’t true. Each of us grieves differently. When we have loved someone who has died, our grief does seem to last forever, at least in some way. Yet, over time, grief diminishes in intensity for most people, and probably does not feel as searing or sharp as it did before. Ever so slowly, your life starts to move toward a new normal, different from before the death you’ve experienced, and sometimes with surprising fullness.

Grief moves in stages.

This goes back to the influence of Elizabeth Kübler-Ross, who acknowledged after the publication of her book that grief does not move in exact stages or along a straight line. For many people who have experienced a deep loss, it feels in the months that follow as if you take two steps forward and one step back. There is nothing predictable about your experience. That’s one of the reasons why grief is so difficult. We can’t plan how it will unfold. You can be having a day that seems relatively happy or normal, and then all of a sudden you burst into tears at the sight or sound of something that reminds you of the person who is no longer here.

The first year after a death or loss is the worst.

This may be true for some people, but not for others. A woman named Ruth had been married to her husband for 32 years. He had always taken care of maintaining the house, cars, and their finances. Ruth had never even paid a bill. In that first year, she was completely overwhelmed with the daily tasks of closing her husband’s life. The decisions she had to make took up every moment of her day. As difficult as this was, her new tasks gave her a purpose and provided a structure for her days.

By the end of the first year, as Ruth was handling these responsibilities with more ease, they required less of her energy and attention. She had room to feel her husband’s absence more deeply, and her grief seemed more acute in the second year.

Some experiences of grief are more worthy than others.

The word “grief” refers to a normal reaction to a loss of any kind. It’s important not to compare your grief to anyone else’s, or anyone else’s grief to yours. People grieve terribly when they desperately want but cannot conceive a child. Parents grieve when a child struggles with mental illness, even though he is still very much alive. We grieve not only deaths, but also breakups or getting fired from a job. Comparing and ranking losses is likely to obstruct your capacity to grieve, especially if you believe that someone else’s grief is more significant or worthy than yours. All grief is different and valid. There is no good reason to try and assign different values to such unique and painful experiences.

Most people cry when they are grieving.

I have known people who have lost someone very significant in their lives, and yet either don’t cry, or cry very little. They may be blocked, they may cry in private. We really don’t know. They may be experiencing relief and even joy that they are not watching their partner or child suffer any longer.

The vessel of “grief” holds different feelings and sensations, even seemingly contradictory ones. Most people do feel sadness, but grief also includes feelings and sensations of anxiety, depression, anger, or irritability. Some people run away from their feelings and dive into questionable behaviors, such as overworking, numbing with food or drink, or obsessively exercising.

Your best source of support will probably be people who have shared a similar loss as you have — for example, the death of a close friend, parent, sibling, or child.

This may or may not be true. The ways in which we experience deaths is different for each of us. Just because someone experienced the death of a child (or other relative or friend), does not mean that they have the willingness or capacity to comfort you. It’s best not to make such assumptions. Sometimes the most meaningful support comes from people you wouldn’t have expected, who haven’t shared your same experience, but who are wise and compassionate and can sit and hold grief with you.

The death of a pet is a smaller event than a human death.

For many people, the death of a pet is even more devastating than the death of a parent, relative, or close friend. Pets can offer us — their human companions — pure, uncomplicated, and unconditional love. Relationships among humans, on the other hand, are far more complicated!

A woman named Susan joined a bereavement group I was leading after her sister died. When Susan’s cat unexpectedly died a few weeks later, she cried more for her pet than she had for her sister. These responses surprised and confused her. At first, she just mentioned her feelings in a casual way. Another group member, Michael, told Susan that he, too, had found the death of his dog a few years earlier to be more upsetting and difficult than the death of his mother. This helped Susan feel less ashamed and speak more honestly about her grief for her cat.

Grief does not change relationships with friends and family.

It is fair to say that grief may, indeed, change relationships. Sometimes these changes are welcome, sometimes they are not. For example, it is devastating to learn that you have cancer. You may need surgery or treatment, and you now face an uncertain future. It is a gift when neighbors or even strangers come forward with support and comfort that you would not have anticipated. And it is deeply disappointing and distressing when relatives or close friends pull away or disappear. If possible, try not to take their words and actions personally. In the face of suffering, many people are frightened. They feel outside their comfort zone or simply don’t know how to show up or help.

As you reflect on your own beliefs around grieving, try and remember that each of us has our own way of processing our feelings and loss. As long as you are not hurting yourself or anyone else, the chances are your grief is moving through just as you need.

Claire B. Willis is a clinical social worker who has worked in the fields of oncology and bereavement for more than 20 years. A cofounder of the Boston nonprofit Facing Cancer Together, Willis has led bereavement, end-of-life, support, and therapeutic writing groups. She has co-taught Spiritual Resources for Healing the Mind, Body, and Soul at Andover Newton Theological School. She maintains a private practice in Brookline, Massachusetts. As a lay Buddhist chaplain, Claire focuses on contemplative practices for end-of-life care. In addition to Opening to Grief, Willis is the author of Lasting Words: A Guide to Finding Meaning Toward the Close of Life. For more information, visit OpeningtoGrief.com or Opening to Grief on YouTube