Have you ever caught yourself laughing, smiling, or having a good day after loss—only to feel a wave of guilt wash over you?

Maybe you noticed you weren’t spending every moment thinking about your person, or you sought out distractions from the heaviness of grief.

In my own grief journey, moments of lightness sometimes felt like a betrayal. How could I allow myself to feel joy when my person’s life was cut short?

It is important to know that it is a common experience in grief to feel guilty for not being immersed in sadness all the time.

“When are you going to get over it?” That was the question someone asked me—just two weeks after a significant and traumatic loss. I was too stunned to answer. I don’t remember how I responded, but I’ll never forget how wrong that question felt.

This moment reflects a common misunderstanding about grief: that there’s a set timeline for “moving on.” That eventually, we should reach acceptance and stop expressing pain or sadness.

The five stages were originally intended to describe the emotional experience of people facing their own death. Over time, the model became widely applied to people grieving the loss of others. But it was never meant to be a universal roadmap for grief.

The last time I checked, the Asian Parent Stories subreddit had over 118,000 members - this speaks volumes about the need for safe spaces—places where people can share their stories and feel understood. 

It doesn’t take long scrolling through the posts to notice stories of frustration, hurt, sadness, anger, pain, and longing. As an Asian therapist, I often hear similar themes echoed in the therapy room. And beneath all of it—a deep desire to feel seen and valued.

If you grew up in a traditional Asian Family and/or an Asian family with complex dynamics, some of what I share here might resonate.