You are at a birthday party, or a holiday dinner, or just standing in your kitchen, and something makes you laugh. A real laugh. And then, almost immediately, the guilt shows up. How can I be laughing? They're gone. It can feel like joy is a betrayal, like enjoying anything means you have stopped caring, or that you are "moving on" before you are ready.
Here is the thing, though: joy and grief were never meant to take turns. They can sit at the same table, even on the same afternoon, even in the same breath. In this post we will explore why joy can feel so complicated after a loss, what grief actually tends to look like, signs you are already holding both, and some practical ways to make room for joy without shoving your grief out of the way. With the holidays coming up, it feels like a good time to talk about it.
Why Joy Feels Complicated After a Loss
After a loss, a lot of people quietly decide that their job is to be sad. It feels like the right way to honor the person, the relationship, or the life that ended. Anything else can feel disrespectful, or like proof that the loss did not matter that much. So when a good moment sneaks in, it can be met with suspicion instead of relief.
There is also the fear that if you let joy in, you will lose your connection to what you lost. Grief can feel like the last thread still tying you to them. If the pain fades even a little, what is left? That is a very human fear, and it deserves compassion rather than a pep talk. The truth is that love does not require suffering to stay real. Your connection can live in memory, in ritual, in the ways they shaped you, and yes, in the moments that make you smile.
Grief Doesn't Move in a Straight Line
You have probably heard of the "stages of grief," and you may have noticed that your grief did not get the memo. Real grief rarely moves neatly from one stage to the next. It tends to come in waves: sometimes gentle, sometimes knocking you flat out of nowhere, often triggered by something as small as a song or a smell.
Many grief specialists describe healthy grieving as moving back and forth: leaning into the loss for a while, then stepping back into daily life, then leaning in again. Both halves matter. The stepping back (laughing with a friend, getting absorbed in a project, enjoying a good meal) is not avoidance. It is part of how people survive grief and slowly integrate it. If your life feels suspended somewhere between the old normal and whatever comes next, you might relate to living in the in-between of life transitions.
Grief is also not only about death. People grieve divorces, estrangements, diagnoses, lost friendships, identities, and futures they expected to have. For LGBTQ+ folks, grief can include losses others do not always recognize, like family relationships changed by coming out. All of it counts.
Signs You're Already Holding Both
Sometimes people think they have to learn to hold joy and grief from scratch, when really they are already doing it and just judging themselves for it. You might be holding both if you have noticed any of these:
You laughed at a funny memory of the person, and then cried, and then laughed again.
You felt genuinely happy at a celebration while also missing someone who should have been there.
You enjoyed something they loved and felt close to them because of it.
You caught yourself having a good day and immediately felt guilty.
You are grateful for what you had precisely because it hurts so much to lose it.
None of these mean you are grieving wrong. They mean you are grieving like a whole person, with a whole range of feelings. The feelings that seem to contradict each other are often the clearest sign of how much something mattered.
Ways to Make Room for Joy and Grief Together
Holding both is less about a technique and more about permission. Still, a few practical approaches can make it easier, especially on days when the guilt is loud.
Think of these less as homework and more as experiments. Some will fit you and some will not, and what helps in the first month after a loss may look very different from what helps a year later. Grief changes shape over time, so it makes sense that the ways you hold it will change too.
1. Swap "But" for "And"
"I had a nice time, but I miss her" subtly suggests one feeling cancels the other. Try "I had a nice time, and I miss her." It sounds tiny. It is not. Language shapes how we understand our experience, and "and" gives both feelings a legitimate place.
You can practice this in journaling, in conversations with friends, or just in your own head. Over time, the shift can soften the sense that you have to choose between being happy and being loyal.
2. Let Joy Be a Form of Remembering
Sometimes the most meaningful way to honor someone is to do the things they loved. Cook their recipe. Play their favorite album loud. Tell their terrible jokes. Joy that includes them is not a betrayal; it is a continuation.
Some families and friend groups make this a ritual: an annual dinner with the person's favorite foods, a playlist that gets passed around, a toast at the holidays. Rituals give joy and grief a shared container, so nobody has to hold it alone.
3. Schedule Time for Grief, Too
This might sound odd, but setting aside intentional time to grieve (looking at photos, writing a letter, visiting a meaningful place) can make it easier to be present during the rest of the day. Grief that knows it will get its turn tends to interrupt a little less.
This is not about putting grief on a strict timer. It is about reassuring the part of you that worries the loss will be forgotten if you stop hurting for five minutes. It will not be forgotten.
4. Use Something Other Than Words
Grief often outruns language. Making art, moving your body, or listening to music can reach feelings that talking cannot. Music in particular has a way of holding sadness and sweetness together, which is part of how music therapy helps you find your voice when words fail. And no, you do not need to be good at art for it to help; your therapist doesn't need to get your art for it to matter.
5. Lower the Bar on Good Days
Joy after a loss does not have to be big. It can be a warm cup of coffee, a dog being ridiculous, a moment of sun. Noticing these small moments is not shallow. It is how capacity gets rebuilt, one tiny good thing at a time.
If you tend to rush past small pleasures, try pausing for three slow breaths when something feels good and letting it land. For a few low-pressure ways to do that, see mindfulness for people who hate meditation.
You do not need to do all of these. Pick one that feels possible today, and let that be enough.
When Grief Gets Heavy, and When to Reach Out
Grief is not a disorder, and most people do not need therapy to grieve. But sometimes grief gets stuck. You might feel numb for a long time, unable to function, or convinced that joy is permanently off the table. Grief can also overlap with depression, and it can be hard to tell them apart from the inside. If you are wondering, you're depressed, not lazy is worth a read.
Holidays can make everything louder. An empty chair at the table, a tradition that does not work without them, or pressure to be cheerful can make November and December especially tender. It is okay to change traditions, skip events, or create new rituals that include your loss. If grief ever brings thoughts of harming yourself, please call or text 988 in the US, or contact emergency services right away.
Therapy can offer a space where both feelings are welcome, without anyone rushing you. At START Creative Arts Therapy, grief work can include talk-based approaches alongside art, music, drama, and dance/movement therapies, all with LGBTQ+ affirming and neurodiversity-affirming care.
Joy Isn't Moving On. It's Moving With.
Holding joy and grief at the same time is not a contradiction. It is what it looks like to love someone, lose something, and keep living. The guilt that shows up when you laugh is understandable, but it does not get the final say. Your grief is proof of love, and your joy is proof that life is still reaching for you. Both belong.
Rebuilding a life after loss can feel impossible at first, but it's never too late to start something new, even something as small as letting yourself enjoy a good day. If you would like support making room for both, reach out to START Creative Arts Therapy to schedule a consultation, or browse more reflections on our blog in the meantime.