There is a moment in the grieving journey that catches many off guard—not because of sorrow, but because of the sudden presence of something else: joy.
It might come in the form of a spontaneous laugh, a deep breath that doesn’t ache, or a moment of peace that arrives without warning. And while it should feel like relief, it often brings guilt instead.
“Am I allowed to feel this?”
“Does joy mean I’m forgetting?”
“Have I moved on too fast?”
Joy, when you’re grieving, can feel like betrayal.
The Tug-of-War Between Memory and Emotion
Grief creates an invisible loyalty to pain. You’ve lived with sorrow so closely that joy feels foreign—almost disrespectful to what or who was lost. You may feel as though smiling again means you’re dishonoring their memory, or that healing implies you’ve left them behind.
But grief and joy are not enemies. They are not opposites.
They are companions in a world where love existed deeply, and loss wounded deeply.
Joy does not invalidate grief—it validates healing.
Permission to Feel Fully
You are not betraying your pain by welcoming joy.
You are not forgetting by learning to laugh again.
You are not unfaithful to memory by choosing to live again.
Grief doesn’t vanish when joy arrives. Instead, joy gently makes space beside it. There will be days where grief speaks louder. There will be days where laughter returns. You are allowed both.
Healing is not linear. Some moments will be sacred in sorrow. Others will be sacred in celebration. Both are valid. Both are holy.
Let Joy Speak Without Apology
Joy may come quietly—like light slipping through a cracked door. Don’t shut it out. Let it remind you that your soul is still capable of dancing, even with bruised feet.
Let joy remind you that healing is happening, even if it doesn’t feel like it every day.
Joy isn’t a betrayal. It’s a bridge—leading you from despair to possibility, from numbness to renewed meaning, from surviving to living.
You have permission to carry the memory and embrace the moment. You have permission to feel joy—even in the aftermath of sorrow.
Selah Moment with Dr. Althea Winifred

