Grief Doesn’t Move in Straight Lines: Understanding Nonlinear Grief

The Truth About How Grief Actually Moves

Grief rarely follows a predictable path.

When Derek died, the first thing that became painfully clear to me was this:

Not all grief is the same.

I had already lost people before him, parents, grandparents, family members. Over time, I had learned how to survive those losses by compartmentalizing. Forgetting details. Tucking memories away. Moving forward because that’s what life asked of me.

But with Derek, something shifted.

I couldn’t forget.

I needed to hold onto everything, what he smelled like, what he looked like, the sound of his voice, the smallest details of our life together. I became hyper-focused on him, on preserving every memory, almost as if letting go of even one would mean losing him all over again.

And I think that’s part of what led to the widow’s fog I lived inside for years.

I forgot how to do ordinary things.

Getting dressed. Driving. Eating.

Grief took over my nervous system completely. That deep fog lasted a long time. A couple of years, at least. I went to therapists. I tried to function. But emotionally and physically, I was carrying something enormous.

Grief wasn’t something happening to me.

It was something I was living inside.

The Anniversary Train and the Body That Remembers

Someone once described anniversaries as “the anniversary train,” and that phrase has never left me.

Every year around Derek’s passing, my body would start replaying the months leading up to his death. Even when my mind tried to forget the date, my nervous system remembered. I would feel heavy, disoriented, raw, sometimes without knowing why.

My body knew before I did.

That’s something we don’t talk about enough. Grief doesn’t just live in our thoughts. It lives in the body. In memory. In sensation.

I remember walking into a HomeGoods one day and seeing a small plaque that said, Love you more.

That had been our thing.

I would say, “I love you.” Derek would always answer, “Love you more.”

Seeing those words in a store aisle pulled me straight back into every emotion and memory at once.

And even now, thirteen years later, it still happens.

Not long ago, I was in Sephora when Donna Lewis’ I Love You started playing. In an instant, I was back inside that moment of loss. Not undone. Not broken. Just reminded.

This is what nonlinear grief looks like.

You can be healing. You can be helping others. You can be living your life.

And grief can still arrive through a song, a scent, a sentence on a wall.

That doesn’t mean you’re regressing.

It means your heart remembers.

Some days grief is quiet. Some days it arrives all at once.

Why the “Five Stages of Grief” Can Feel So Confusing

Many of us were taught about grief through the five stages: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance.

These ideas came from the work of Elisabeth Kübler-Ross, who originally developed this framework while working with terminally ill patients, not as a roadmap for grieving partners or families.

And even she later emphasized something important that often gets lost in translation:

Grief is not linear.

You don’t move neatly from one stage to the next. You don’t “graduate” into acceptance and stay there forever. You can feel okay for months or years and then be pulled right back into sadness, anger, or longing by a memory or milestone.

Modern grief psychology now widely recognizes what so many of us already know in our bodies:

Grief comes in waves. It loops. It resurfaces. It evolves.

There is no finish line.

So, if you’ve ever wondered why grief shows up years later, why anniversaries hit differently, or why you can feel steady one moment and undone the next, you’re not broken.

You’re human.

Every Loss Lives Differently

I learned something else along the way:

Every loss grieves differently.

When my mother died, I barely spoke for almost a year. When I began talking again, my personality had shifted. That grief lived in silence and withdrawal.

With Derek, grief lived in memory and fog and the inability to function.

Same person. Different losses. Different nervous system responses.

There is no universal template for grief.

How you grieve one person will not look the same as how you grieve another. Each relationship leaves its own imprint on your body and heart.

And sometimes, two things are true at once.

You can feel joy and sadness. Gratitude and longing. Love and loss.

That complexity doesn’t mean you’re doing something wrong.

It means your heart is holding something meaningful.

Healing is movement, not a finish line.

Sitting With Grief Instead of Fighting It

I once saw an image of two women sitting side by side, one dressed in white, one in black.

They weren’t opposing each other.

They were simply sitting together.

That felt like grief to me.

Not something to defeat. Not something to exile.

Something that wants companionship.

For a long time, we’re taught to push grief away. To “move on.” To get back to normal.

But what I’ve learned is this:

We don’t move on from grief.

We move forward with it.

We learn how to walk beside it. We give it a place in our lives. We make room for it instead of trying to outrun it.

As long as love exists, grief will exist too.

They are connected.

Grief is not a problem to solve. It’s a relationship to tend.

Grief Has No Timeline

If your grief feels unpredictable. If it resurfaces during life transitions. If songs or anniversaries still catch your breath. If happiness sometimes carries a quiet ache underneath.

There is no wrong way to grieve.

You don’t have to be “over it. ”You don’t have to explain it.

You don’t have to carry it alone.

I’ve been in this place too.

And I want you to know, however grief is showing up for you today is enough.

You don’t have to walk this alone.

A Gentle Invitation

If your heart has been holding a lot, I’m hosting a gentle grief drop-in on March 10.

It’s a quiet space to breathe, share (or not), and simply be with others who understand that grief doesn’t move in straight lines.

No fixing. No pressure. Just presence.

You’re welcome here.

Join the March 10 Gentle Grief Drop-In

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FAQ (for gentle clarity and search)

Is it normal for grief to come back years later? Yes. Grief often resurfaces through anniversaries, memories, music, or major life changes. This is a natural nervous system response, not a setback.

Is there a right way to grieve? No. Grief is deeply personal. There is no correct timeline or emotional sequence.

Why does grief feel unpredictable? Because grief lives in both memory and body, healing doesn’t follow a straight path; it unfolds in waves.