What People Don't Understand About Widowhood (part 3)

Why Moving On Isn’t My Goal

Learning to carry grief instead of leaving it behind

One of the phrases I’ve never quite connected with after loss is the idea of “moving on.”

It sounds neat. Clean. Final.

As if grief is something you eventually walk away from, close the door on, and leave behind.

But that has never been my experience. And I truly don’t think that’s how healing works.

After Jon passed away, I remember feeling like I was supposed to reach a point where everything would eventually feel “finished.” Like there would be a day when I would wake up and no longer feel the weight of loss.

But what I’ve learned over time is that grief doesn’t work on a finish line.

It changes.

It softens.

It shifts.

But it doesn’t disappear.

For me, the goal has never been to move on from Jon. The goal has been to move forward with my life while still carrying the reality of his absence.

There is a big difference between those two things.

Moving on suggests leaving something behind.

Moving forward means learning how to continue living while honoring what came before.

There were seasons early on where survival was the only goal. I wasn’t thinking about the future or what healing would look like years down the road. I was simply trying to get through each day.

But as time passed, I began to realize something important. God wasn’t asking me to erase my past in order to heal. He was inviting me to walk with Him through every part of it.

Psalm 23:4 says, “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for You are with me.”

That verse has taken on a very different meaning for me over the years.

I used to focus on the “valley of the shadow of death” part and think of it as a place I needed to get out of as quickly as possible. But now I see the emphasis is actually on walking through it, not staying there, and not being abandoned in it.

God didn’t remove every hard memory or instantly take away the weight of grief. But He also never left me in it. He walked with me through it. And He still walks with me now.

There is a big difference between being stuck in something alone and walking through it with God beside you.

I am no longer trapped in the early years of grief. I am not living in that constant fog of survival anymore. My days are not defined by overwhelming sorrow.

But Jon is still part of my story.

Not in a way that holds me back.

But in a way that shaped who I am.

There is a kind of pressure that sometimes comes with grief culture, even if it is unspoken.

Pressure to “heal the right way.”

Pressure to “let go.”

Pressure to reach a place where loss no longer affects you.

But I have found that real healing is much more gentle than that.

It doesn’t rush you.

It doesn’t force you to forget.

And it doesn’t demand that you leave love behind in order to keep living.

Instead, it slowly teaches you how to carry both sorrow and joy at the same time.

There are days when I feel deeply grateful for the life I have now. I could never have imagined this life I live, and God has been so gracious. I see God’s goodness in my family, in my home, in the quiet ordinary moments of life.

And there are still moments when grief quietly shows up. Not in a way that overwhelms me, but in a way that reminds me of what once was.

Both of those experiences can exist together.

That is something I never expected to learn.

But it has become one of the most important truths in my healing journey.

Psalm 34:4 says, “I sought the Lord, and He answered me; He delivered me from all my fears.”

God didn’t remove every hard memory or erase every moment of grief. But He has slowly delivered me from being controlled by fear and sorrow.

That has been the difference.

Not the absence of pain.

But the presence of peace in the middle of it.

So when I say moving on is not my goal, what I really mean is this:

I don’t want to live a life that requires me to forget love in order to feel whole again. I want a life where love and loss both have their place. Where grief is acknowledged but no longer in control. And where forward movement is possible, even when part of the story will always stay the same.

If you have been feeling a off lately — low energy, brain fog, constant cravings, or just feeling depleted — I’d love to invite you to join me for a simple two-week reset. We’ll focus on simple daily rhythms that support your body and restore steady energy. Nothing extreme, just simple habits practiced consistently. If that sounds like something you need right now, I’d love to have you join us.

You can reach out to me in the comments, or by sending me a message on Facebook or Instagram.