"Why didn't I call her that week?"

The question arrived at 3am. My youngest sister had taken her own life, and my mind had become a courtroom. I was judge, jury, and defendant, all at once.

Why didn't I see the signs? How could I have missed it? What kind of brother doesn't notice?

Round and round. Night after night. The questions never led anywhere except back to themselves.

Perhaps you know this loop. Maybe yours sounds different. "Why did they leave?" or "How could they betray me like that?" or "What's wrong with me that this keeps happening?"

These questions feel urgent. They feel necessary. Surely if we think hard enough, we'll find the answer that finally brings peace.

But here's what I've learned: some questions aren't designed to be answered. They're designed to keep us stuck.

What world thinking day taught me about questions

Today is World Thinking Day, the 100th anniversary, celebrated by Girl Guides and Girl Scouts across 150 countries. This year's theme is "Our Friendship", an invitation to reflect on the bonds that sustain us.

It struck me how relevant this is to grief.

The questions we ask ourselves can either isolate us further or open us back up to the people who want to help. When I was stuck asking "why didn't I?", I pushed people away. I thought I had to figure it out alone.

But the questions that helped me heal pointed me back towards others. "Who can support me in this?" "What would it mean to let someone in?"

Those questions changed everything.

The questions that keep us stuck

Working as a Grief Specialist, I've noticed patterns in how people think when they're struggling to move forward.

Questions like "Why did this happen to me?" or "Whose fault is it?" or "Why didn't I do something differently?"

Or the classics that start with "If only". If only I'd been there. If only I'd said something. If only I'd known.

These questions share something in common: they focus on a past we cannot change, searching for blame we cannot assign, seeking control we never had.

I remember when Candice came to me. A 30-year friendship had broken down, and she was carrying anger and resentment that had started affecting every part of her life. Her family, her work, her other relationships.

She was stuck asking "Why did this happen?" and "What did I do wrong?"

She wasn't grieving anymore. She was stuck in a loop, and the loop was made of questions.

The thing about these questions is they feel like progress. It feels like we're working through something, processing, making sense of it all. But notice how they leave you feeling. Drained? Hopeless? Like you've been running on a treadmill going nowhere?

That's the clue.

A different set of questions

The shift for me came not through finding answers, but through changing the questions entirely.

Instead of "Why didn't I call her?" I started asking "What do I want to honour about her life?"

Instead of "How could I have missed the signs?" I asked "What support do I need right now to carry this?"

Instead of "What's wrong with me?" I asked "What's within my control today?"

These questions point forward rather than backward. They acknowledge that something painful has happened whilst focusing energy on what we can actually influence.

The difference isn't about being positive or pretending the pain doesn't exist. It's about directing your mind towards territory where change is possible.

For Candice, the shift came when she stopped asking "Why did this happen?" and started asking "What kind of life do I want to build now? How do I want to show up in my relationships going forward?"

The grief didn't disappear. But she stopped spinning in circles and started moving.

She learned to let go of resentment and find compassion. She realised not everyone responds the way she would, and that's okay. She made peace with the friendship ending.

She told me, "I don't have that huge weight on my shoulders anymore. It's such a relief not having to carry that around every day."

How to start shifting your questions

If you recognise yourself in these patterns, you're not doing anything wrong. These questions are natural. They're how our minds try to make sense of senseless things.

But you don't have to stay there.

The first step is simply noticing. When you're feeling particularly low, pay attention to what questions are running through your mind. You might even write them down.

Then, look at what you've written. Ask yourself: are these questions pointing me towards something I can change? Or are they keeping me focused on something I can't?

If they're the stuck kind, try translating them. "Why did this happen?" becomes "What do I need to help me come to terms with this?" "Whose fault is it?" becomes "Who can support me right now?" "If only I had..." becomes "What small step could I take today?"

It feels clunky at first. That's normal. You're learning a new language, one that points towards possibility rather than paralysis.

Another approach is to ask yourself what you want to achieve in your current situation. Not what you wish had happened. Not what should have been different. But given where you are right now, what matters most?

Sometimes the answer is simply "I want to feel a bit less awful." That's valid. The next question becomes "What might help with that?" And suddenly you're in territory where answers actually exist.

If you're supporting someone who's stuck

Perhaps you're reading this thinking of someone else. A friend, a colleague, a family member who seems trapped in that loop of painful questions.

The temptation is to offer answers. To point out that it wasn't their fault, that they couldn't have known, that they need to stop blaming themselves.

But here's the thing: you can't argue someone out of their grief. And trying to answer their questions often just invites more of them.

What helps more is asking different questions. "What would help you most right now?" "What do you need today?" These questions invite them towards possibility without dismissing their pain.

Sometimes just sitting with someone whilst they spin through the loop is enough. Grief needs witness before it needs solutions.

What World Thinking Day reminds us

Grief can make us feel profoundly alone. But healing rarely happens in isolation.

The questions that move us forward often point us back towards connection. "Who can I lean on?" "What would it mean to let someone see me struggling?" "How can I show up for myself the way a good friend would?"

We can't change what has happened. We can't rewrite the past, no matter how many times we replay it. But we can choose what we focus on. We can choose the questions we ask.

That's not moving on. It's not forgetting. It's not pretending the loss didn't matter.

It's recognising that your energy is precious, and you get to decide where it goes.

Sometimes, the bravest question is simply: "Who can walk this path with me?"

What to do next

If you've recognised yourself in this piece, you're already taking the first step.

Discover your hidden wellbeing gaps. The Hidden Wellbeing Gaps Quiz takes about eight minutes and sends personalised insights straight to your inbox. It's a useful way to understand where unresolved grief might be affecting your energy, relationships, or work. Take the quiz here →

Get the free guide. "5 Things Never to Say to Someone Grieving (Plus What Actually Helps)" is useful whether you're supporting someone else or recognising unhelpful things you've been saying to yourself. Download your free copy here →

Book a clarity call. If you're ready to explore whether structured support might help, I offer a free 15-minute conversation. No pressure, just a chance to talk through what you're facing and whether the Handling Grief Programme might be right for you. Book your call here.