How Do You Know If It’s Too Soon?

Dock and lake surrounded by evergreen trees

There are often things that become inaccessible immediately after a loss: places that become too painful to visit, songs that become too hard to hear, hobbies or traditions or vacations that just don’t feel right anymore.

Sometimes, those things are gone forever and there’s no getting them back. Other times, they lie in waiting, still available but forever changed: shows you watched together, restaurants where you celebrated, weddings or baby showers that suddenly feel like danger zones. How do you know when the time is right to revisit those things again?

In our culture that’s forever encouraging us to move on and move ahead, most people will tell you that you should get back to those things as soon as possible. There’s an assumption that we are best served by diving headfirst into our discomfort. While that is sometimes the case, for many of us it’s more complicated than that, especially when the loss is recent.

About six months after my sister died, I had tickets to an upcoming Deb Talan concert. My sister and I shared a love of her music, and I’d bought the tickets long before I knew that things were taking a turn for the worse. At the time I’d put those tickets in my online cart, I’d been looking forward to the show. Now that my sister was dead, it felt a lot more complicated.

As the concert date approached, my stomach increasingly turned into knots; I couldn’t figure out if I should lean into my discomfort and attend or if it was simply too soon. When I tested positive for COVID the day before the concert and knew that I’d have to cancel, I was one part disappointed and two parts relieved. Turns out that the knots in my stomach had some good information for me.

In her book It’s OK That You’re Not OK, grief expert Megan Devine shares what she calls the vomit metric, and I find it useful. When it comes to some of the decisions that we have to make in grief – like removing a wedding ring, giving away personal items, or revisiting the places or experiences that may cause us pain – she suggests this: If it makes you feel sick, it’s probably too soon. It’s never going to feel good, but if it makes your stomach churn, it’s okay to wait and take your time. 

A year ago, the thought of attending a Deb Talan concert made my stomach turn. So did watching any of my sister’s favorite movies, revisiting some of the old letters that she’d written to me, or giving away her winter coat.

Last week, tickets went on sale for Deb’s next tour. When I considered buying tickets, it felt a bit scary and sad, but it wasn’t stomach-churning. I bought the tickets, and it feels different this time. I will almost certainly be crying through half the show, but this time it will be in a bittersweet this-makes-me-think-of-Seester way, not in an I’m-going-to-vomit-get-me-out-of-here way.

There are still several of my sister’s favorite movies that I haven’t watched, some unread letters, and her coat sitting in the basement that I’m not quite ready to part with. Those things still make my stomach churn. It’s not time for those things yet.

I’ve learned to trust my own timing. And I want you to know that you can trust yours too. When so much has already been taken from you, remember that you have the right to take your time with the things you can control. Some things are never going to feel good; in fact, many things are inevitably going to be sad or uncomfortable. But if something makes your stomach churn and you know it’s too soon? It’s okay to trust that feeling. It’s okay to take your time.

As always, take gentle care of yourself.

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