Grieving Out Loud
My Goldilocks Theory about Grief
At the gathering of family and close friends, following my Father’s funeral, many people commented on how strong I was, or told me to be strong, for my girls.
Since we had all just gathered for my husband’s funeral, less than five months before, what else could you say to someone, under the circumstances?
And how do you respond?
I opted for, “Life is short.”
Especially as 2009, in particular, taught me and others, that life was indeed short.
Wanting More Time
Loss can shine a spotlight on what we want more of, especially time.
Yet, wanting more time and doing what you want with that time, can be two contrary things.
Do you want more time to work so you can have more time for holidays?
Do you want more time to do laundry? Or to watch Netflix?
Or more time to make connections and memories?
I believe answers change depending on your relationship with your life and time, in the moment.
Our fear is not that life is short, it’s that we don’t feel alive when we live it.
~Marianne Power, from her book Help Me
After the two exceptional losses I experienced in 2009, I was determined to LIVE.
The decisions and moves that I made, had some people’s eyes go wide in shock, dismay and doubt.
While others nodded knowingly.
Because I knew.
Deep within me and without an iota of hesitation that I was moving forward, my way.
That the significant changes I was making were at the right time, right place and with the right people.
And most importantly RIGHT FOR ME.
I wasn’t looking for permission.
I wasn’t looking for sympathy.
I was choosing aliveness and what that looked like, where that was going to happen, with whom and what it felt like for me.
I moved myself and my children across the world, never once questioning whether it was the right decision, or not.
Going in, I held the thought that, “Maybe it would end up being a summer vacation, maybe we’d end up staying, maybe it would end horribly, and maybe it would be just right.”
Was it a gamble? Absolutely.
There were those that questioned whether I was truly considering what my young girls, needed.
That this move was selfish.
Especially by taking them away from all they had ever known, would be damaging to them.
But maybe…far, far away I/we/them/us could actually take a deep breath.
Maybe we could smile, grieve, laugh, explore and adventure.
Not as a way to set aside the grief, but as a way to set aside the grief, while allowing ourselves other emotions and experiences as well.
Because grief can feel claustrophobic.
Losing a husband.
Losing a Father.
You can’t be in your home without the absence of him.
You can’t drive away from the house nor return, without the knowing that he isn’t and won’t be there when we get back.
In the days immediately after, I shared with my friend, my inner voice is constantly reminding me that, “He is dead or he is gone or he isn’t coming home, because he is dead”, and so on.
This went on while people talked to me, as I showered, as I breathed.
Since the news couldn’t have been more nonsensical.
And it continued for weeks afterwards.
A Feng Shui colleague had reached out to me via email when she heard the news, and wanted to know how I was doing.
I responded by saying, “In the home, we look at having a fish in a bowl (tank), and see that as being a good energy enhancer. Grief, however, can make you feel like that fish, which is not good energy.”
Inherently I believed that if I was okay, then they would be as well.
Because life is short and the time was now.
Regardless of the unknown outcome.
My Goldilocks-Grief Theory
In the classic children’s book, Goldilocks tries the three porridges left on the table and finds one too salty, the next too sweet and the last one to be ‘just right’. The same goes for when she tries the bear’s chairs and beds: too hard, too soft, then ‘just right’.
I believe, this can be applied to grief.
One can look at someone who has experienced loss and decide that they are grieving too much.
Or not grieving enough.
Or that they have grieved too fast,
Or wonder why they are still grieving (to slow).
Or maybe they see them as doing it ‘just right’.
When it comes to loss (of any kind), someone looking in from the outside feels confident to make that assessment, whether based on their own perceptions, beliefs and emotional capacity, of what they think another should or ‘shouldn’t be doing.
Grief Expectations
I have seen a growth and expansion of people publicly sharing their grief, talking about their journey, in the last 15+ years. And even though, grief in modern day, has evolved, we may still be clinging to some historical constructs of how grief is to be expressed, and for how long.
Societal and cultural norms influence our perception of “adequate” grief expressions and behaviors. Implicit and explicit norms that specify who should grieve when, where, and for how long form our expectations about when grief expressions are socially acceptable and when they are not (Doka, 2020; Zhou et al., 2023).
There isn’t a rain gauge, for tears, so a person knows that they are nearing or have exceeded the volume of expressing their loss.
Wait A Year
“Don’t make any major decisions, until after a year.”
This was a common piece of advice that people used to, and still do, offer.
I nodded on the phone, as my (met him once at my wedding, then at the funeral), brother-in-law, counselled me.
But this is aligned with the historical patterns of widows, Victorian-esque, if you will. Women, in particular were expected to follow a strict protocol, which was not expected of men.
Now in modern society we have cast off such stifling ‘traditions’, but the world (read social media) still holds onto the semblance of those expectations, hence Goldilocks.
Grieving Too Little
I feel, that the decisions I made in the first year after my husband’s death, that I would have (and likely was) slotted into the ‘grieving too little’ category.
As I boldly made decisions, and BIG ones to boot.
But I was and am a small fish, if you would compare what I did following, versus another widow, in the media, whose husband was killed in September 2025.
Its human nature, to judge, assess and compare.
I am not immune to it, nor are you, likely either.
Grieving Too Much
Social media and media in general, gives us a front row seat to people’s lives, since they share it liberally.
And I for one, have felt discomfort and curiosity, about those online.
How courageous they are to be so emotionally raw and honest, well after their experience.
Whereas I too, have held onto and not gotten the support I needed, after another life event that broke my heart.
In hindsight, I lost a good chunk of 5 years staying in my grief, that only my inner circle knew about. I wouldn’t judge those closest to me for thinking, “Get over it Sher!”, because I know I was like a broken record, retelling the story trying to find the answers.
Outwardly, you wouldn’t have known.
And therefore, you may have thought I grieved ‘just right’.
Grieving Just Right
I really have nothing to write about this. Because it would suggest that there is a ‘right way’ to do it.
Grief is a normal and natural response to loss of any kind.
The perception that someone did it right, would be measured against how you think you would do it, and by what you are comfortable with.
Each loss and life event that perpetuates grief, is unique to you and your relationship to whatever or whomever you lost.
Those on the outside looking in, do not know the intimacy of that relationship, because they didn’t live it, as you did.
So grieve how you need to grieve, because you are the one who has to feel it and go through it.
But I will say that I believed that in order to do it ‘just right’, that I had to DIY it all, on my own and that is simply not true.
And that is why I do what I do, because grief wasn’t meant to be a DIY project.
Beautifully written, thank you. 🙏🏻 💕