She stood in the kitchen staring at empty red envelopes. Her mother had always filled them. Knew exactly how much for each grandchild without asking. Remembered everyone's ages, their favourite foods, who needed extra this year.

Now her mother was gone. And she had no idea what she was doing.

In two weeks, it's Chinese New Year. February 17th. The Year of the Wood Horse. Fresh starts, family gatherings, hope for what's ahead.

But what if you're carrying loss into this new beginning? What if the person who used to orchestrate everything isn't there anymore?

If you're reading this, you're probably wondering how to navigate celebrations when you're grieving. How to honour what you've lost without ruining the day for everyone else. How to move forward without feeling like you're betraying the past.

You're in the right place. And you're not alone.

Why celebrations make grief worse

Chinese New Year, Christmas, Diwali, Eid, birthdays. These moments hit differently when you're grieving.

Everyone around you is celebrating. You're supposed to feel hopeful, joyful, renewed. But you feel the absence. The empty chair. The person who isn't there to fold dumplings with you.

Then there are the sensory triggers. The smell of specific foods cooking. The sound of familiar music. The ritual of setting the table. Your body remembers before your mind catches up. You're fine one moment, then a scent transports you back and the grief hits fresh.

There's community pressure too. Family gatherings mean questions. "How are you doing?" with that slight head tilt that expects you to say "fine." Or worse, the careful avoidance. Everyone tiptoeing around the loss like mentioning it will shatter you.

And perhaps hardest of all, there's the isolation of pretending. You smile. You participate. You say the right things. But inside, you're performing normalcy whilst carrying something no one else can see.

This isn't weakness. It's the cost of love.

What most people don't realise about grief

Grief isn't just bereavement. It's any significant loss that changes your world.

Divorce. Redundancy. Relocation. Health diagnosis. Friendship ending. Career change. Empty nest. Betrayal. The life you thought you'd have that didn't materialise.

Over 40 different life events create grief. Most of them aren't about death.

And here's what catches people off guard: unprocessed grief is expensive. Not just emotionally. Professionally.

You're taking twice as long to complete projects. You're turning down opportunities because decision-making feels overwhelming. You're losing clients or promotions because you're not showing up as your best self.

One client came to me thinking she had burnout. She was a marketing director, successful by any measure. But she'd started taking 3 hours to write briefs that used to take 45 minutes. She'd snap at her team over minor issues. Decisions that used to be straightforward felt impossible.

She thought something was wrong with her work ethic. Turned out she was carrying unresolved grief from her father's death three years earlier, her best friend's relocation, and a miscarriage she'd never properly processed because "other people have it worse."

She wasn't burnt out. She was grieving. And it was affecting everything.

This shows up differently for everyone. Tasks that used to take an hour now take all day. You're irritable with colleagues who don't deserve it. You can't focus in meetings. You're either overworking to avoid feeling or so exhausted you can barely function.

The tricky part? High-achievers are especially skilled at functioning whilst grieving. You've built careers, raised families, led teams, all whilst carrying loss no one sees.

But functioning isn't the same as healing.

The myth that keeps you stuck

We're told that new beginnings mean leaving the past behind. Start fresh. Turn the page. Look forward, not backward. Move on.

It's terrible advice.

Because grief doesn't work that way. Loss doesn't disappear because the calendar changes or because a celebration tells you it's time to renew.

Moving forward and honouring what you've lost aren't opposites. They're companions.

You don't have to choose between remembering and living.

The Year of the Horse symbolises freedom, adventure, and forward momentum. But here's what actually matters about moving forward: horses don't forget where they've been. They remember the paths they've travelled, the places that mattered, the journeys that shaped them. And then they keep running.

That's the model for moving forward after loss. You don't forget. You don't "get over it." You don't pretend it didn't matter.

You acknowledge what was. You honour what it meant. You carry the wisdom forward whilst releasing what no longer serves you.

Five ways to navigate celebrations whilst grieving

Create a ritual of acknowledgment. Before you join the celebration, give your grief a moment. Light a candle for what you've lost. Speak their name out loud. Say what you miss about them. Write it down and burn it, bury it, or keep it. This isn't dwelling. It's giving your grief intentional space so it doesn't demand the entire day. When you acknowledge loss on purpose, it stops ambushing you at unexpected moments.

Redefine participation on your terms. You don't have to attend every gathering. You don't have to stay the whole time. You don't have to perform joy you don't feel. Decide what feels right for you and communicate it clearly. "I'll come for dinner but not the evening." "I'll celebrate quietly at home this year." "I'll join you, and I might need to step away if it gets overwhelming." Protecting your wellbeing isn't selfishness, it's wisdom.

Name what's different. Say it out loud. "This is our first Chinese New Year without Mum." "This celebration feels strange after the divorce." "I'm glad to be here, and I'm also missing what used to be." Naming it takes away the power of unsaid things. It gives others permission to acknowledge reality instead of performing around the elephant in the room. The grief doesn't disappear when you name it, but the isolation does.

Build new traditions alongside old ones. Keep what still feels meaningful. Let go of what doesn't. Create something that honours both past and present. Maybe you still make dumplings but add a new ingredient that represents moving forward. Maybe you visit their favourite place before joining family for dinner. Maybe you light a candle at the table for them. Continuity and change aren't enemies.

Give yourself permission to feel it all. Joy and grief. Gratitude and loss. Hope and sadness. These aren't contradictions, they're the full spectrum of being human. You can laugh at a joke and miss the person who would have found it hilarious. You can appreciate the celebration and feel the absence. You can move forward and still look back. That's not confusion. That's emotional maturity.

When grief needs more than time

We're told time heals all wounds. It doesn't. Time just passes.

What heals grief is completing what was left unfinished. Saying what wasn't said. Acknowledging what you wish had been different.

That marketing director I mentioned? After working through my structured grief recovery programme for 10 weeks, everything shifted. She went from taking 3 hours to write a brief to completing them efficiently again. She stopped snapping at her team. The decision paralysis lifted. She got promoted within 6 months.

Not because she forgot her father or stopped missing her friend or erased the miscarriage. But because she'd processed those losses properly. She'd said goodbye in ways she never got to. She'd acknowledged what she wished had been different.

If you're noticing these signs, it's time to get support: You're avoiding situations that remind you of the loss. You're overworking or numbing to avoid feeling. Small frustrations trigger disproportionate reactions. You can't remember the last time you felt genuinely present. It's been months or years, and it's not getting easier.

Here's the truth: grief doesn't get easier by waiting. It gets more entrenched.

The longer you carry unprocessed loss, the more it compounds. That irritability becomes a reputation problem. That exhaustion becomes chronic. That disconnection becomes isolation.

Permission to not be okay

One last thing.

You don't have to be inspirational about your grief. You don't have to find the silver lining. You don't have to be grateful for the lesson.

You're allowed to just miss them. You're allowed to wish things were different. You're allowed to be angry, sad, or completely numb.

Healing doesn't mean being positive about loss. It means processing it honestly so it stops controlling your life.

What to do next

This Chinese New Year, you don't have to choose between honouring what you've lost and embracing what's ahead. You can do both.

If you're wondering where grief is affecting you: Take my free Grief Assessment Quiz. It takes 8-10 minutes and shows you exactly where unresolved loss might be showing up in your life and work. You'll get personalised recommendations for your specific situation.

If you need guidance on supporting someone: Download my free guide, 5 Things Never to Say to Someone Grieving (Plus What Actually Helps).

If you're ready for support: Book a free 15-minute clarity call. We'll talk about what you're experiencing and whether my Handling Grief Programme is right for you. No pressure, no sales pitch.

You don't have to do this alone.

Happy New Year. May it bring freedom, adventure, and the courage to honour both what you've lost and what's still possible.