Before experiencing my own tragedy, I remember hearing about other people’s losses and thinking, Oh my goodness, if that happened to me, I’d be a mess. I wouldn’t be able to function. But the truth is, you have absolutely no idea how your mind and body will react until you’re in it. And NO ONE reacts the same way.

How I thought I would feel and how I actually felt were two totally different things. And after talking with other widows and widowers, I realized that my experience didn’t match theirs either.

When the ER doctor told me that Mitch didn’t make it, I didn’t cry. I froze. I was confused, shocked—and then I started dry heaving and throwing up. I don’t remember crying at all. Instead, I just kept saying things like, How am I going to do this? and What the fuck over and over again. I couldn’t think, I couldn’t feel—I was just lost. All I wanted was for someone to tell me what to do next because my brain wasn’t capable of figuring it out.

Dan, on the other hand, reacted completely differently when he found out about Jess’s accident. He was furious. He punched a wall. He lived in a blur of anger and uncertainty for months, unable to process how to move forward.

And then, there were the other things I never expected. Over the next few days, my body reacted in ways that made no sense—I was nauseous all the time, sweating constantly, and drinking insane amounts of water because I was always thirsty. My body was clearly in shock, doing something to cope, but I had no control over it.

Instead of withdrawing, I threw myself into tasks. I focused on checking things off the list—funeral arrangements, paperwork, making sure my boys were okay. And then there was the weirdest part: I wanted to be around people all the time. I’ve always called myself an “introverted extrovert,” but in this case, the extrovert took over completely. I just wanted to have fun—to ignore everything happening around me. It probably looked strange from the outside, but I wasn’t in a place to care.

Honestly, if Mitch’s death had been part of a true crime episode, I would’ve 100% been a suspect. You always hear, She wasn’t acting like you’d expect a widow to act, and I think about that a lot. I wasn’t crying nonstop. I wasn’t curled up in a ball. I was numb. I was going through the motions. I was just surviving. And when people told me how “strong” I was, I wasn’t sure that was true—I think I was just in shock and too confused to process what was happening.

The point is, there’s no right way to grieve. No one knows how they’re going to react to tragedy—not even the person experiencing it. And sometimes, we don’t even have control over how we respond. So if you’re watching someone go through it, be kind. Don’t judge. And if you’re going through it, please—don’t be hard on yourself for how you’re handling it. There is no “normal” way to grieve. However you’re coping, you’re doing it right.