You Don’t “Get Over” It: You Grow with It

Jul 11

We don't get over grief and heal in the way society tells us. Instead, it becomes a part of us, and we discover how to navigate and create a new way to be, as our loss has changed us.

The adage "time heals all wounds" is not quite true. Grief isn't something we "get over," nor do we “heal from” it; we learn to be with it and grow from and through it. We learn to carry it. We are different because of it. With time, it becomes an integrated part of us. We are forever changed.

Grief lives in the body, not just the heart, mind or your emotions. It's not something to think your way through. Grief must be felt, witnessed, and tenderly held in a way that allows your nervous system to find its way to move with and through it. Grief isn't meant to be carried alone, and yet many people hide or mask it to get by in the outside world, only to unmask when they're back in the safety of their own home. And in essence, many often feel like they live a dual life, one of grief and one of pretending “I am fine”. Grief is a complex, orchestrated array of emotions, each contributing to the notes it brings. And when we find others who understand and walk alongside us, it helps us walk this journey.

When grief feels too big or too much to handle, many people instinctively push it down or set it aside, not as a conscious choice, but as a protective subconscious response from their nervous system. It can feel like everything inside goes offline for a while because the overwhelming emotions are too much to process all at once. When those emotions don’t have the space or safety to move through, they often settle into the body, to wait for the right time to come to the surface. This can leave many feeling numb, shut down, or disconnected. The body knows what it can handle and when, and we are learning to trust its timing.

Often, it is with time that the layers of grief begin to surface gently, inviting you to be with them and slowly integrate the loss. This is a sign that your system is starting to trust that there’s room and capacity within to feel and process.

Befriending your grief opens you up to approach it with curiosity, compassion, and acceptance. Resisting your grief keeps tension and angst stuck in your body and expends energy.

The Loss of Nikko and the Pressure to Be ‘Okay’

In 2008, when my dog Nikko died. She was my first dog as an adult, my world, and her loss hit deeper than I ever expected. At the time, I didn’t know how to be with or hold grief. I didn’t understand that losing her would or could have such a profound impact, and so I did what so many of us do: I armoured up, emotionally shut down and stoically carried on.

I told myself I had to be strong. I hid my pain, put on a brave face, and tried to move on quickly, not just for myself, but because I was raising my family, and I was showing them how to deal with grief the way my parents had shown me. To ignore and deny. For tears meant weakness. I didn't want to be a burden on my family with my sadness, and to be an adult meant minimal to no emotional display of grief. I was so shut down, I didn't cry when she was euthanized, I felt I had to hold it together. Society back then certainly didn’t permit us to grieve deeply for a pet. So I believed I needed to minimize it and be okay. But my body held my pain.

A few days after Nikko’s passing, I started experiencing major digestive issues, headaches, and a heaviness in my chest that wouldn’t let up. I felt foggy and disconnected, irritable and exhausted, yet still, I pushed through, trying to stay busy and pretending I was okay. Looking back, with today’s understanding and losses I have had after, I can see I was in active self-denial and emotional shutdown as a physiological way to protect my heart from the pain of losing her. All of that energy I spent trying to suppress and resist what I was genuinely feeling only deepened my overall physical exhaustion and forgetfulness.

What I understand now is this: grief needs space. And by not permitting myself to acknowledge it, to befriend it, and to feel it, I unintentionally made it harder to carry and suffered physically more. Nikko wasn’t “just a dog” ( as pets were viewed back then). She was my soul companion and my first dog of all, as an adult! The equivalent of a first love.

This journey taught me that grief doesn’t simply go away; in time, the intensity varies, grief bursts fade to love bursts, and my heart fills with gratitude for having memories. As I write this, I feel yet another layer of grief integrate and release simultaneously a little more, and it continues to transform how I am with it. I will always carry the love for her and each of my beloved pets who have joined her. I see how each previous loss has guided me in current losses, giving me more capacity to accept and be with my past and present griefs, expanding who I am and deepening my ability to lean in even more with myself and others with greater presence in times of loss.

By staying present with our physical sensations and allowing ourselves to feel our grief, both emotionally and physically, little by little, we can expand our capacity to accept and live with it and be with it tenderly when it does show up. While we do not necessarily "heal" from grief, we can learn to live with it in a more understanding and compassionate way. I see “heal” in the sense of new understanding and grace for who we are and appreciation for our moments of life together.

After loss, grief now lives within you, among all your other array of emotions. It will show up at various times throughout your life in ways that remind you of who and how you loved. It forever teaches you opportunities for more empathy for yourself and others. In time, it shows you that you can open up to even more space for love, even amid your sorrow, and hold both at the same time.

Bit by bit, grief lands and integrates in layers, over time, until it becomes a part of you that you build your new life around. When you can open the door to your grief and acknowledge it, you create a kinder path to walk in what matters.

To know that grief, like love, opens and reshapes you. And though you will and can not be the same, you can become more present, more attuned, and more openhearted because of it. Embracing your grief is a testament to the capacity of love you held and experienced. After loss, grief and love coexist in the body, intertwined in the notes that make up the song of your soul, where your loss is a song only the heart can truly understand.

I’m Here to Walk With You

If you're in this place now, or feel it's approaching, I invite you to receive support:

You don’t have to walk it alone.

Explore our workshops or work with me to learn new ways to deepen your connection and attunement with your pet and better support yourself in your journey.