Grieving Greatly – Episode 15 | When Everyone Thinks You Should Be Over It

At some point, many grieving people hear the words—spoken or unspoken—"It's time to move on."

In this heartfelt episode of Grieving Greatly, Jen shares why grief doesn't have an expiry date and why healing isn't about forgetting the person you love. Through her own experience of losing her son Harry, Jen explores the pressure many people feel to "be over it," the hidden losses that come with grief, and how love can continue to exist long after someone has died.

If you've ever felt judged for still grieving, struggled with people returning to their lives while yours feels forever changed, or wondered whether you're grieving "the right way," this episode is for you.

Together we'll explore:
• Why grief has no timeline
• The myth of "moving on"
• Secondary losses after bereavement
• Learning to carry grief rather than erase it
• How friends and family can better support someone who is grieving

Wherever you are on your grief journey, may this conversation remind you that you are not broken, you are not behind, and you are never alone.

❤️ Dedicated to Harry, and to every life deeply loved.

Harrys Helping Hands Grief & Loss Counselling - Jen Connors 0431212575

Transcript

SPEAKER_00 0:01

Hi, and welcome back to Grieving Greatly. I'm Jen from Harry's Helping Hands Counselling, and as always, I want to thank you for choosing to spend this time with me. If this is your first time listening, welcome. This podcast is a place where we have honest conversations about grief, not just the sadness, but the confusion, the love, the guilt, the hope, and everything in between. My hope is that by the end of today's episode you'll feel a little less alone in whatever you are carrying. Today's episode is about something I hear almost every single week from the people I work with. It's the feeling that everyone else thinks you should be over it. Maybe someone has actually said it. It's been a while now. You need to move on. Aren't you doing better? Or maybe no one has said those words at all. Instead you've noticed people stop asking how you're going. They stop mentioning your loved one's name. The messages become less frequent. And people return to their lives, or yours still feels divided into two parts life before they died and life after. If that's where you find yourself today, I want you to hear something before we go any further. There is nothing wrong with you. Grief isn't something you complete. It isn't a project with a finish line. It isn't a season that suddenly ends. Grief is what happens when love no longer has a physical place to go. And love doesn't disappear simply because time has passed. I think one of the biggest myths our society has created is that grief has an expiry date. Almost as though after six months or twelve months or two years we should somehow return to the person we used to be. But here's the reality When someone you deeply love dies, especially suddenly or traumatically, you don't simply lose that person. You lose the future you imagined, you lose your sense of safety, you lose routines, sometimes friendships, sometimes confidence, and sometimes your identity. The person you were before that loss no longer exists. Not because grief has broken you, but because grief has changed you, and that's a really important distinction. One of the questions people ask me is when does grief end? The longer I do this work, the more I realise that's probably the wrong question. A better question might be how to do I learn to carry this? Because that's really what healing is not getting rid of grief, learning to carry it differently. I remember not long after Harry died I went to see a hypnotherapist. I walked into that appointment believing I knew exactly what I wanted. I wanted him to take my memories away. I wanted the pain to stop. I remember saying something along the lines of I just want to stop remembering. He looked at me so gently and said Jen, you don't actually want to erase your son. That sentence stopped me because he was right. I didn't want to lose Harry all over again. I didn't want to forget his smile, his laugh, his personality, his life. I simply didn't want loving him to hurt so much. That appointment changed something inside me. It helped me understand that healing was never about forgetting. Healing was about finding a way for the love to remain without the pain, consuming every part of my life. People sometimes assume that because it's been many years since Harry died, I must somehow be over it. The truth is I'm not, and I never will be. I don't wake up one day and suddenly stop being Harry's mum. The difference now is that my grief has changed shape. The sharp edges have softened. The love has found somewhere to go. Today that love looks like Harry's helping hands. It looks like sitting with grieving parents. It looks like recording this podcast. It looks like every conversation where someone finally feels understood. My grief didn't disappear, it became part of my purpose. And I think that's very different from being over it. One of the things that makes long term grief so difficult is something we called secondary losses. The death itself is devastating, but then come all the losses nobody prepares you for the loss of certainty, the loss of confidence, the loss of identity, the loss of friendships that quietly fade away, relationships that struggle under the weight of grief, dreams that no longer exist. You don't just grieve the person, you grieve the life you thought you were going to have. And every one of those losses deserves compassion too. Something I hear all the time is I don't talk about them anymore because I don't want to make other people uncomfortable. That breaks my heart. Because grieving people aren't desperate to stop talking about the person they love. They are desperate for permission to keep talking to say their name to tell another story to laugh about something funny they did to cry when memories hurt. The silence that often follows grief can become one of the heaviest burdens. Please know this you never have to apologize for speaking their name. You never have to apologize for missing them. Love doesn't become inappropriate because someone has died. So why do people say things like you should be over it? You need to move on It's time to let go. Most of the time it isn't cruelty it's discomfort. Our society teaches us how to celebrate. It teaches us how to fix problems. But it doesn't teach us how to simply sit beside someone whose heart has been broken. People desperately want to make the pain disappear. And because they can't fix grief, they often try to shorten it. But grief doesn't work like that. Someone else's discomfort should never become your deadline for healing. If you're listening today and you've found yourself thinking I feel like everyone else has moved on except me, you are not alone. If you've thought I don't want to burden people anymore, you're not alone. If you've felt judged for still crying, you're not alone. Traumatic grief doesn't move in a straight line. Healing isn't linear. Some days you'll feel steady. Then a song will play. You'll smell their perfume. You'll drive past somewhere you used to go together or their birthday will arrive. And suddenly it feels like yesterday. And that isn't failure. That's grief reminding you how deeply you loved. I often describe grief like carrying a heavy backpack. On the first day it feels impossible. Every single step hurts. You wonder how you'll survive carrying something so heavy. Months later, the backpack isn't necessarily lighter. You've simply become stronger. You've learnt how to carry it. Some days you hardly notice it's there, and other days it feels impossibly heavy again. Both experiences can exist at the same time. This is what healing often looks like. Not the absence of grief, the ability to keep living while carrying it. So what do you do when someone pressures you to move on? Maybe you can gently say I'm still grieving and that's okay. Or I'm healing in my own time. Or simply thank you for caring, but this is my journey. You don't owe anyone an explanation. You don't need to shrink your grief to make someone else comfortable. Your timeline belongs to you. If you're listening today as the friend or family member of someone who is grieving, can I ask one small favour? Please don't disappear. Don't stop saying their loved one's name because you're afraid of upsetting them. Most grieving people haven't forgotten for a single second. Hearing someone else remember can feel like the greatest gift. Send the text Remember the birthday acknowledge the anniversary. Say I was thinking about them today. Those simple words tell someone they mattered. They're remembered. You don't have to carry this alone. Presence will always mean more than perfect words. Before we finish today, I want to leave you with this. Maybe people think you should be over it. Maybe they've stopped asking how you are going. Maybe they've quietly returned to their own lives. But your heart knows something they don't. Love doesn't expire, so why would grief? Grief isn't proof that you're broken it isn't proof that you're weak. It's proof that someone mattered. It's proof that you loved deeply. And I don't think that's ever something we should apologise for. Thank you so much for joining me for another episode of Grieving Greatly. If today's conversation resonated with you, I would love it if you shared this episode with someone who might need to hear these words today. And maybe this week send one simple message to someone who is grieving. I was thinking about them today. Those six words have the power to remind someone that their loved one is still remembered. Until next time, be gentle with yourself. There is no right timeline for grief. There is only your timeline. Take care and remember your grief is not a measure of weakness. It is a reflection of the depth of your love, and that love will always matter. And if this week you notice a ladybug or a turtle moving slowly along, let it remind you that hard days still move slowly, gently one moment at a time. This episode is for Harry and for every life deeply loved. I'm here with you and I'll be with you in the next episode. You'll always be enough for me and you will never be too much. And just a gentle reminder if today brought anything up that's feeling difficult, please reach out for support. You can contact Grief Australia on 1-800-642-06 or Lifeline on 13114 or reach out to me directly on 0431 212 575. Thank you.