Grief is not a single emotion—it’s a landscape. One that is often unfamiliar, harsh, and lonely. It doesn’t follow a straight line or respect a calendar. It crashes in waves, surprises us with its intensity, and reshapes our lives in ways we never expected.

Grief is also universal. According to the U.S. Census Bureau and the National Hospice and Palliative Care Organization, nearly 2.5 million people die in the U.S. each year, leaving behind an estimated 13 million bereaved individuals annually. And that number doesn’t even include other types of grief—loss of health, relationships, jobs, identity, or dreams.

In my own life, grief arrived suddenly and forcefully. When my sweetheart, Frank, was diagnosed with a terminal illness, I became his full-time caregiver almost overnight. For five months, our world narrowed to hospital rooms, medications, quiet conversations, and the unspoken knowing that our time together was coming to an end. When he passed, I not only lost the person I loved most—I lost the future we were building. I lost who I had been in my relationship to him. I was left with deep sorrow, disorientation, and a question that echoed through my days: Who am I now?

This question became the foundation for my new book, Stepping Through Grief ~ Rediscovering Life After Loss. What began as a journal—an attempt to make sense of the unthinkable—grew into a guide for others navigating similar terrain. It is a book about identity, purpose, and the long road of learning to live again after devastating loss. I wrote it for anyone who has felt undone by grief and is trying to figure out what comes next.

The Stages of Grief: Not a Linear Path

We often hear about the five stages of grief—denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance—originally introduced by Elisabeth Kübler-Ross in her 1969 book On Death and Dying. While this model provides a framework, it’s important to understand that grief does not move in predictable order. We don’t graduate from one stage to the next. In fact, many people experience these stages in loops, return to them multiple times, or skip some altogether.

• Denial is often the mind’s first attempt to protect itself. It allows us to survive the initial shock.

• Anger may show up as frustration at the situation, toward others, or even toward the person we lost.

• Bargaining can look like endless “what ifs” or “if only” thoughts that try to rewrite the past.

• Depression often sets in as the full weight of the loss becomes real and unavoidable.

• Acceptance isn’t about being “okay” with the loss—it’s about learning to live with it.

More recent models, like the Dual Process Model by Stroebe and Schut, suggest that healthy grieving involves oscillating between facing the loss and engaging with life. This resonates with my own experience—and with many of the clients and groups I support in my practice. Sometimes we cry. Other times we manage the laundry, go for a walk, or laugh at something small and beautiful. Healing isn’t about moving on—it’s about moving with.

Rediscovery After Loss

In the aftermath of loss, many people struggle with identity and purpose. They ask, “Who am I now that I’m no longer a spouse, a caregiver, a parent, or a partner?” These questions don’t come with easy answers, but they are invitations. Grief cracks us open. In that raw space, there is room for reflection—and if we’re gentle with ourselves, there is also room for rediscovery.

In my book, I share how I learned to ground myself when the world felt unstable. I encourage readers to pause and ask: What do I know for sure, even now? It might be your name, the smell of your morning coffee, the softness of your pet’s fur, the sound of your own breath. These small truths can become anchors in the chaos.

The process of rediscovery takes time. It took me years to feel like I was truly living again—and even now, I carry my grief with me. But I carry it differently. More gently. It’s not as sharp as it once was. It lives beside love, not in place of it.

You Are Not Alone

Grief can feel like isolation, but you are not alone. Whether your loss is fresh or decades old, whether it was a person, a dream, or a former version of yourself—you deserve space to grieve and permission to heal.

My hope is that this book offers a hand to hold along the way. I wrote it not as an expert on grief, but as someone who has walked through it, stumbled, and kept going. Someone who believes that even after unimaginable loss, life still holds beauty and meaning—and we still get to choose how we meet it.

As you move through your own grief, I invite you to reflect not on who you were before, but on who you are becoming. Let your grief shape you, but not define you. Let it remind you of your capacity to love deeply—and to live fully.

written by Gina Rivera Sokolich