It's OK That You're Not OK

It's OK That You're Not OK Plot Summary

Introduction

Grief is one of the most profound human experiences, yet our society often encourages us to suppress it, rush through it, or hide it away. When loss enters our lives, we're frequently met with well-intentioned but harmful advice to "stay strong," "move on," or "find closure." These cultural expectations create additional suffering on top of our already overwhelming pain. The truth is that grief isn't something to overcome—it's something to be acknowledged, honored, and integrated into our lives. The journey through grief isn't linear, and there's no "right way" to grieve. Each person's experience is unique, shaped by their relationship with what was lost, their personal history, and the support systems around them. This journey isn't about returning to who you were before your loss, but rather about discovering who you are becoming in its wake. By embracing your grief rather than fighting against it, you can find a path forward that honors both your pain and your capacity for healing.

Chapter 1: Acknowledge the Reality of Your Loss

Grief begins with acknowledgment—the simple yet profound act of recognizing what has happened and allowing yourself to feel its impact. Many people resist this first step, believing that if they fully acknowledge their loss, they'll be consumed by pain. However, denying or minimizing your grief only pushes it underground, where it continues to affect you in unexpected ways. Sarah experienced this after losing her husband in a car accident. For months, she maintained a brave face for her children, throwing herself into work and refusing to speak about her husband's death. She believed this was what strength looked like. But inside, she was crumbling. Her sleep deteriorated, her concentration faltered, and she found herself erupting in anger over minor frustrations. It wasn't until she joined a grief support group that she realized what was happening: her unacknowledged grief was manifesting in other ways. In the support group, Sarah heard others speak openly about their pain. For the first time, she allowed herself to say the words out loud: "My husband is gone, and I miss him terribly." That simple acknowledgment brought tears that had been locked away for months. Though painful, this moment marked a turning point in her healing journey. By naming her loss, she could begin to face it. Acknowledging your loss doesn't mean dwelling in misery. Rather, it means creating space for your grief instead of running from it. Start by speaking your truth, either to yourself or to someone you trust. Use concrete language: "My partner died," "I lost my job," or "My health has changed permanently." Notice any resistance you feel to these statements—many of us have been conditioned to soften our language around loss. When you acknowledge your loss, you might experience an intensification of emotions. This is normal and even necessary. These feelings—the shock, anger, sadness, and confusion—need expression. Find safe ways to release them: cry when you need to, write in a journal, create art, or move your body. Remember that emotions arise in waves; they will crest and then recede. The reality of your loss may need to be acknowledged repeatedly, especially after significant losses. Each time you do so, you help your mind and heart adjust to your new reality. This isn't about "accepting" what happened in the sense of being okay with it—rather, it's about recognizing what is, so you can begin to navigate your changed world.

Chapter 2: Understand Pain vs Suffering

When grief enters our lives, we experience two distinct but related phenomena: pain and suffering. Understanding the difference between them is crucial for navigating the grief journey with greater compassion for yourself and others. Pain is the natural, inevitable response to loss—the heartache, longing, and sadness that comes when someone or something we love is gone. Suffering, on the other hand, is what happens when we resist this pain, judge ourselves for feeling it, or become trapped in thoughts about how things "should" be different. Michael lost his daughter to cancer when she was only eight years old. In the aftermath, he experienced crushing pain—a physical ache in his chest that sometimes made it difficult to breathe. But his suffering intensified when well-meaning friends suggested he should be "moving on" after six months. He began to believe something was wrong with him for still grieving so intensely. "I started to hate myself for not being stronger," he explained. "I'd lie awake wondering why I couldn't just be grateful for the time we had together, like everyone told me I should be." The turning point came when Michael's therapist helped him see that his pain was natural—a reflection of his deep love for his daughter. What was causing additional suffering was his belief that he shouldn't still be grieving. Once Michael gave himself permission to feel his pain without judgment, something shifted. "The pain didn't go away," he said, "but it became more bearable because I stopped fighting it. I stopped expecting myself to be 'over it' by some arbitrary deadline." To distinguish between pain and suffering in your own experience, pay attention to your internal dialogue. Statements like "I shouldn't still be crying about this" or "I need to be stronger" indicate suffering layered on top of natural pain. When you notice these thoughts, gently challenge them. Remind yourself that grief has no timeline and that feeling pain after loss is not weakness—it's human. Creating space for your pain might involve setting aside specific times to connect with your grief. This could be lighting a candle, looking at photos, or simply sitting quietly with your memories. Let yourself feel whatever arises without trying to change it. Notice when the pain shifts or changes, as it inevitably will. Remember that understanding the difference between pain and suffering doesn't mean you'll never suffer. We all get caught in resistance sometimes. The goal isn't perfection but awareness—recognizing when you're adding suffering to your pain so you can respond with kindness rather than criticism. By allowing your natural pain to exist, you reduce unnecessary suffering and create more space for healing.

Chapter 3: Create Your Support System

Building a strong support system is essential during grief, yet it can be one of the most challenging aspects of the journey. Many people discover that their existing relationships change after a significant loss—some friends disappear, while others emerge as unexpected sources of comfort. Creating a network that truly supports you requires intentionality, clear boundaries, and sometimes difficult conversations. David experienced this firsthand after his divorce. While some friends rallied around him, others seemed uncomfortable with his grief or took sides in the separation. "I was surprised by who showed up and who didn't," he recalled. "My brother, who I'd never been particularly close with, called me every week just to check in. Meanwhile, my best friend of twenty years kept telling me I needed to 'get back out there' when I wasn't ready." David found himself increasingly isolated, unsure where to turn for the support he needed. Through a recommendation from his therapist, David joined a divorce recovery group. There, he met others who understood his experience without explanation. "For the first time, I didn't have to justify why I was still sad six months later," he said. This community became the foundation of his support system, which he gradually expanded to include a grief-informed therapist, a few close friends who could simply listen without trying to fix his pain, and an online forum where he could express himself honestly at 3 AM when sleep eluded him. To create your own support system, start by assessing your current relationships. Who makes you feel safe? Who can sit with your pain without trying to minimize it or rush you toward "feeling better"? These people form your inner circle. Be specific about what you need from them—whether it's practical help with daily tasks, someone to listen without offering advice, or a companion for difficult anniversaries or events. Consider expanding beyond personal relationships to include professional support. This might mean a therapist who specializes in grief, a support group specific to your type of loss, or spiritual guidance from a compassionate religious or community leader. Many people find that combining one-on-one support with group experiences provides different but complementary benefits. Remember that not everyone in your life will be equipped to support you in your grief, and that's okay. Some relationships may need to be temporarily or permanently redefined. Create boundaries that protect your emotional wellbeing, such as limiting time with people who dismiss your feelings or insist you should be "over it" by now. This isn't about cutting people off, but about recognizing who can meet which needs during this vulnerable time. Your support system will likely evolve as you move through grief. Be open to new connections and patient with yourself as you learn to ask for and receive help. The right support won't take away your pain, but it will ensure you don't have to carry it alone.

Chapter 4: Express Grief Through Creative Outlets

Grief often defies words. The complex emotions that accompany loss—the anger, sadness, confusion, and even moments of unexpected joy—can be difficult to articulate through conversation alone. Creative expression offers an alternative language for grief, allowing us to externalize feelings that might otherwise remain locked inside, causing additional suffering. Elena had always considered herself "not creative," so when her grief counselor suggested she try art therapy after her miscarriage, she was skeptical. "I can barely draw a stick figure," she protested. But with gentle encouragement, Elena agreed to attend one session. The counselor explained that the goal wasn't to create beautiful art but to express what couldn't be said. Elena was given paints and a canvas and invited to represent her grief however felt right. "I started with black and red, making angry strokes across the canvas," Elena recalled. "Then, without planning it, I found myself adding tiny spots of blue—like tears or maybe stars. I painted for an hour without speaking." Afterward, Elena felt a subtle shift. "Something that had been knotted up inside me had loosened slightly. I hadn't realized how much energy I was using to hold everything in until I let some of it out." Elena continued exploring creative expression, eventually finding that writing in a journal before bed helped process the thoughts that had been keeping her awake. She wrote letters to the baby she had lost—letters of love, anger, and eventually, a different kind of connection that she could carry forward. You don't need artistic talent or experience to benefit from creative expression. The value lies in the process, not the product. Consider trying different forms to see what resonates: writing (journals, poems, letters), visual arts (painting, collage, photography), movement (dance, yoga, walking meditations), music (playing instruments, singing, creating playlists), or crafts (knitting, woodworking, gardening). Some people find structure helpful—like setting aside twenty minutes each day for creative expression—while others prefer to turn to these outlets when emotions feel particularly intense. There are no rules except to approach the process with self-compassion and without judgment. Creative expression can also create tangible remembrances of what you've lost. Many find comfort in creating memory books, quilts made from a loved one's clothing, or playlists that capture a particular relationship or time in life. These creations can become touchstones to return to when you need to feel connected to what's been lost. Remember that creative expression in grief isn't about "feeling better" or creating something to share with others (unless you want to). It's about giving form to the formless, making the invisible visible, and allowing your grief to move rather than remain static. Through this movement, healing—not as an endpoint but as an ongoing process—becomes possible.

Chapter 5: Find Your Own Path to Integration

The journey through grief isn't about "getting over" your loss or returning to who you were before. Instead, it's about integration—finding ways to incorporate your loss into your life story and identity while continuing to move forward. This integration is deeply personal, and what works for one person may not work for another. Finding your own path requires patience, self-compassion, and a willingness to discover new aspects of yourself. James struggled with this after losing his job of twenty-five years when his company unexpectedly closed. More than just employment, he lost his professional identity, daily structure, and many relationships. "Everyone had advice," he said. "My brother told me to start my own business. My wife thought I should retire early. My former colleagues were all finding new jobs within weeks." None of these paths felt right to James, but he felt pressured to make quick decisions to "fix" his situation. A career counselor helped James see that he needed time to grieve before determining his next steps. Instead of rushing into action, he gave himself permission to explore. He volunteered at a local food bank, took a community college class in photography (something he'd always been curious about), and spent time reflecting on what had been meaningful about his previous work beyond the paycheck. Six months later, James found himself drawn to a part-time position mentoring young professionals—something that utilized his experience but in a completely different context than his previous corporate role. "If I had forced myself to follow someone else's timeline or suggestions, I would have missed discovering this new part of myself," he reflected. "My loss is still real, but it's now part of my story rather than the end of it." To find your own path to integration, start by releasing expectations about how grief "should" unfold. There is no standard timeline or sequence of stages that applies to everyone. Your journey will be influenced by the nature of your loss, your relationship to what was lost, your personal history, and many other factors unique to you. Pay attention to what brings even small moments of peace, purpose, or connection. These moments don't negate your grief but can exist alongside it. They might come through relationships, meaningful activities, spiritual practices, or simple pleasures like walking in nature or listening to music. Follow these threads of comfort or meaning without judging them as too small or insignificant. Integration often involves finding ways to honor your loss while creating space for new experiences. This might mean establishing rituals or traditions that acknowledge what's been lost, carrying forward values or lessons from your previous life, or finding ways to help others who are experiencing similar challenges. Throughout this process, be patient with yourself. Integration isn't linear—you'll likely move back and forth between intense grief and periods of adaptation. This oscillation is normal and healthy. Trust that by allowing yourself to fully experience your grief rather than rushing past it, you're creating the foundation for authentic healing and growth.

Chapter 6: Connect with Others Who Understand

One of the most isolating aspects of grief is feeling that no one truly understands what you're experiencing. Even well-meaning friends and family may struggle to relate to your pain or may inadvertently minimize it with platitudes like "everything happens for a reason" or "at least they're not suffering anymore." Finding connections with others who have experienced similar losses can be profoundly validating and healing. Lucia felt this isolation acutely after her brother died by suicide. "People didn't know what to say, so many just said nothing," she explained. "Others seemed to think his death was somehow less tragic because he chose it, as if that made my grief less legitimate." Lucia found herself withdrawing from social interactions, exhausted by having to manage others' discomfort or defend her right to grieve. A therapist suggested Lucia look into a support group specifically for survivors of suicide loss. Initially reluctant, Lucia finally attended a meeting six months after her brother's death. "I walked into that room and immediately felt something shift," she recalled. "I didn't have to explain the complicated mix of emotions—the sadness, anger, guilt, and confusion. Everyone there already knew." Through the group, Lucia formed deep friendships with two other women who had lost siblings. They began meeting for coffee outside the formal group setting, creating a space where they could talk about their loved ones without censoring themselves. "These connections didn't take away my grief," Lucia said, "but they made it less lonely. And sometimes, when I couldn't hold hope for myself, they held it for me." Finding others who understand can happen in many ways. Formal support groups, either in-person or online, provide structured environments where shared experiences create immediate bonds. These groups might be specific to certain types of loss (bereavement, divorce, chronic illness) or to particular relationships (loss of a child, parent, partner). Many are facilitated by professionals or trained peers who can guide discussions and provide resources. Online communities offer accessibility and anonymity that some find comforting, especially in early grief when leaving home might feel overwhelming. Forums, social media groups, and virtual meetups connect people across geographic boundaries who might otherwise never meet but who share similar experiences. Individual connections can develop naturally through these group settings or might come from unexpected places—a colleague mentions their own loss, a neighbor shares a similar experience, or a distant acquaintance reaches out after hearing about your situation. These one-on-one relationships often allow for deeper sharing over time. When seeking connections with others who understand, remember that shared experience doesn't mean identical experience. Even within specific categories of loss, each person's grief is unique. The goal isn't to find someone whose story perfectly matches yours, but to find people who can witness your pain without trying to fix it, who validate rather than minimize your experience, and who understand that grief changes but doesn't necessarily end. These connections remind us that while grief is intensely personal, we are not alone in navigating it. Through shared understanding, we find not only comfort but also possibilities for moving forward while honoring what we've lost.

Summary

Throughout this exploration of grief, we've discovered that healing doesn't come from moving past our pain, but through acknowledging it, expressing it, and eventually integrating it into our lives. As author Megan Devine powerfully states, "Some things cannot be fixed. They can only be carried." This truth liberates us from the exhausting pursuit of "getting over" our losses and invites us instead to learn how to carry them with grace, authenticity, and even, eventually, a measure of peace. Your grief journey is uniquely yours, and it deserves to be honored rather than rushed or dismissed. Today, consider taking one small step toward embracing your grief rather than fighting against it. Perhaps write a letter expressing your raw feelings, reach out to someone who might truly understand, or simply give yourself permission to feel whatever emerges without judgment. Remember that in acknowledging your pain, you also acknowledge the depth of your capacity to love—and that love, ultimately, is what gives meaning to our losses and our lives.

About Author

Loading...

Megan Devine

Megan Devine is the author of the book It's OK that You're Not OK: Meeting Grief and Loss in a Culture that Doesn't Understand.

Read more