01/07/2026
New Blog Post: New Year, Old Grief
I originally planned to write a blog about New Year’s resolutions, especially as we step into the beginning of 2026. But as often happens in my work, another topic kept rising to the surface—again and again—through conversations with clients. That topic is grief.
In 2022, Prolonged Grief Disorder was officially added to the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM). The intention behind this addition was to better support individuals whose grief appears to extend beyond what is considered a typical duration or intensity following a loss. Since then, two things seem to have happened simultaneously: we’ve begun talking much more openly about grief within the field, and, paradoxically, there has been increased confusion about what grief is “supposed” to look like and how it should be treated.
For many of the clients I work with—and for people within my broader community—2025 held an extraordinary amount of grief. While emotional themes often ebb and flow in waves and patterns, this one has not yet receded. Instead, it has carried forward into 2026. As a result, I wanted to share a few thoughts and observations with anyone currently navigating their own grief.
The first and most important thing I want to say is this: there is no such thing as “normal” grief. Grief looks different for everyone—how it manifests, how it’s processed, and how long it lasts. While there are patterns we can observe, patterns are not rules. They simply offer a loose framework for what we might expect and help us judge ourselves a little less harshly when our experience feels confusing or overwhelming. Patterns remind us that we are not alone, and that we are not “crazy.” That word—crazy—is one I’ve heard repeatedly from people who are grieving. And yet, in my experience, there is nothing in their behavior that suggests anything other than a very human response to loss.
I often use metaphors in my work, and one that I frequently return to when discussing grief is particularly notable. I invite people to imagine a pixelated image. Now imagine removing a cluster of pixels from one area, leaving behind a small black space. That missing section represents grief. Loss changes our reality. It alters how we see the world. The image is no longer the same, because there is now a space where someone—or something—we loved once existed.
Many people come into grief believing that “processing” means filling in that empty space. That healing will happen once the image looks the way it used to, once they feel whole again. Unfortunately, that’s not how grief works.
Those missing pixels are never fully replaced. The image does not return to what it was before. We carry those empty spaces with us for the rest of our lives. What does change, however, is the size of the image itself.
To process grief is not to erase loss, but to continue adding new pixels—to keep living, growing, and expanding. As the image becomes larger, the empty spaces remain, but they begin to distort the overall picture less. Over time, they become part of the image. In some ways, they may even contribute to its depth and beauty.
I love this metaphor because it gently shifts the goal. The goal is not to forget what we’ve lost or to “move on” in a way that erases meaning. Our loss becomes part of our picture—part of who we are. We don’t want to fill the void, because that would be like forgetting what once occupied that space. Instead, we learn to build around it, allowing our grief to shape us in ways that foster strength, compassion, and beauty.
Grief changes us. And while it may always leave a mark, it can also become part of a larger, richer image—one that continues to grow. So, rather than offering a traditional New Year’s resolution, I invite people to focus on growing their images. Keep adding pixels that are meaningful to your life. Keep choosing experiences, connections, and moments that expand the picture. And keep gently shaping the image into what you want it to become—without rushing, without erasing what has been lost, and without judging how long the process takes.
Growth doesn’t require forgetting. It simply asks us to keep adding to the picture.
I originally planned to write a blog about New Year’s resolutions, especially as we step into the beginning of 2026. But as often happens in my work, another topic kept rising to the surface—again and again—through conve...
