We like to believe that grief follows a pattern — something we move through step by step.
But it rarely does.
Modern psychology suggests that loss is not linear. It moves in and out of our lives, shaped by the relationships we had, the roles we carried, and the meaning attached to what is no longer there.
“Everybody hurts … sometimes.”
When R.E.M sang those words, they captured something familiar — not just about grief, but about the different ways people carry it.
And loss is not limited to death.
It can follow the end of a relationship, a career or any part of our lives that once gave us structure and meaning. In Malaysia, this is increasingly visible among mid-career professionals navigating job loss, restructuring, and the unravelling of identities tied to long-held roles.
Because loss is also about identity.
We don’t only lose people. We lose roles — a daughter, a partner, a team leader — a version of ourselves that existed within that relationship or role. We lose routines, shared language, a sense of continuity.
What we feel is shaped by the nature of what was lost and the role it played in our lives — each carries a different emotional weight. Even when the emotions are deep, the experience does not unfold the same way.
Closeness, history, expectations and unresolved issues all influence how loss is felt.
Psychologists are moving away from the idea of fixed stages. Instead, people shift between facing what has happened and returning to daily life — leaning into emotion, staying busy, searching for meaning, or avoiding it altogether.
These are not contradictions, but ways the mind manages what it cannot fully resolve.
For some, loss feels clear. For others, it is less defined. My strained relationship with my late mother, for example, left behind a different kind of absence — mourning not only what was, but what never had the chance to be.
Psychologists describe this as ambiguous loss — a form of grief without closure.
It can also emerge in relationships that were never fully visible or acknowledged — the silent ending of a connection that had no clear place, and therefore no clear way to be mourned.
In Malaysia, conversations around loss have long centred around death and mourning — rituals, gatherings, and an expectation to remain composed, to carry on, and to appear sombre for longer than one might naturally feel. But this is beginning to shift.
This is because what we carry doesn’t always look like sadness.
It can appear as fatigue, irritability, withdrawal or disconnection — surfacing in moments, then receding just as quickly.
There is really no single way to carry loss — only your own way.
As the song reminds us — everybody hurts, sometimes.
The views expressed are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect those of FMT.