Why grief can feel like a storm and what your body is actually telling you.
Grief often feels overwhelming because it moves through the body in waves. Sudden surges, foggy thinking, and intense emotion are not signs of weakness — they’re the nervous system responding to loss. Understanding what your body is doing can soften fear and help you ride each wave with more trust.
Grief rarely arrives as something gentle.
It comes like weather — sudden, disorienting, and powerful enough to change the landscape of your inner world without asking permission.
One moment you are functioning.
The next, your chest tightens, your breath shortens, your thoughts scatter, and something inside you braces as if danger has entered the room.
This is why grief so often feels like a storm.
Not because you are dramatic.
Not because you are unstable.
But because your body is responding to loss exactly the way it is designed to respond to threat.
A sudden loss creates a pressure shift inside the body
In a physical storm, the air pressure changes before the rain ever falls. The body senses it first.
Grief works the same way.
When someone you love is suddenly absent, your nervous system does not interpret that as “sad news.” It interprets it as a rupture in safety and attachment.
So the body responds:
Heart rate increases
Breathing becomes shallow or tight
Muscles brace
Thinking narrows
Emotions surge quickly and intensely
This is not emotional weakness.
It is the acute stress response activating to protect you.
Your body is trying to survive a world that no longer makes sense.
Grief moves in waves because the body cannot hold everything at once
One of the most confusing parts of grief is how it comes and goes.
You may feel relatively okay one moment — and then suddenly overwhelmed the next. The shift can be fast enough to make you wonder if something is wrong with you.
What’s actually happening is this:
The nervous system cannot stay at peak intensity indefinitely.
When grief surges, the body enters a high-alert state. Stress hormones rise. Attention narrows. Emotion intensifies.
But that state is not sustainable.
So the body does what it is designed to do:
it crests — and then begins to settle.
Within a single day, grief often moves in waves:
rising suddenly
peaking intensely
then easing enough for breath, clarity, or orientation to return
The loss does not disappear.
But the wave passes.
This cycling is not instability.
It is protection.
Crying is often part of the release, not the problem
Many people fear the moment tears arrive.
“If I start crying, I won’t stop.”
“If I let this out, I’ll fall apart.”
But emotional crying is not usually what prolongs a grief wave. In many cases, it signals that the body has reached the crest of the stress response.
Crying activates calming pathways in the nervous system. It can help shift the body out of high alert and toward settling.
The tears do not mean the storm is getting worse.
They often mean pressure is being released.
The fog is not failure — it’s protection
Alongside the waves, many people experience fog.
Thinking feels slow.
Words don’t land.
The world feels distant or unreal.
This fog is not confusion or denial.
When the nervous system is overloaded, clarity is often the first thing to go. Narrowing awareness helps protect the brain from taking in more than it can handle.
As the wave settles, many people notice:
the fog thinning
orientation returning
the ability to engage coming back online
This does not mean the grief is gone.
It means the body found its way back to you again.
What your body is actually saying
When grief feels like a storm, your body is not saying,
“Something is wrong with you.”
It is saying:
This loss matters.
I am trying to keep you safe.
We cannot carry all of this at once.
The waves, the tears, the fog, the sudden quiet — these are not signs of failure.
They are signs of a nervous system working hard to survive love that was torn away.
A sentence to return to when the wind picks up
Grief moves through the body in waves, and while the loss remains, the nervous system is designed to rise, crest, and settle — even when the storm feels overwhelming.
You don’t have to control the storm.
You don’t have to rush the calm.
You could try saying this out loud as a reminder:
“This wave will move.
My body knows how to come back.”
Telling yourself this often will remind your brain and body of these simple truths and help regulate you, and build trust with your process.
I hope this help!
Sending yo uso much love,
Kimber
Coming next in this series
In the next posts, we’ll slow this down and look more closely at what’s happening inside the body — including:
Understanding the body doesn’t take the pain away.
But it does remove the fear — and fear is often what makes grief harder than it already is.
Grief often feels like a storm because it moves through the body in waves. In this post, I explain what happens in the nervous system after the loss of a spouse — including grief surges, emotional fog, crying, and sudden shifts between calm and overwhelm. This grief education is designed specifically for widows who feel confused by their body’s responses and want a science-informed, compassionate understanding of why grief comes and goes. Understanding how grief waves work can reduce fear, normalize physical symptoms of grief, and help widows trust their body during acute grief.
why widows need body-based support | grief impact + natural options
Widowhood doesn’t just break the heart — it overwhelms the nervous system. Grief affects sleep, stress, and the body itself. This post explains why widowhood feels so physically hard and how gentle, body-based support can help widows carry what love and loss demand.
Why widowhood feels so physically hard, and how somatic support can help you carry it
When your husband dies, it isn’t only your heart that breaks.
It’s your whole life that seems to crack open.
Your co-parent.
Your partner in decisions.
Your shared income.
Your witness.
Your future.
Your person who helped you breathe through hard days.
And somehow — impossibly — life keeps moving forward.
Decisions still need to be made.
Questions still get asked.
Systems don’t pause.
And your body is required to keep showing up, even when everything inside has been shattered.
If you’ve ever wondered why widowhood feels so physical — why your body reacts like you’re living in an emergency — there is a reason.
Not a “something is wrong” reason.
A nervous-system that is protecting you reason.
Because grief doesn’t live only in the heart.
It lives in the body that had to survive the loss.
Widowhood Is Grief Under Load
Widowhood isn’t just missing someone.
It’s missing him while still having to:
make every decision alone
keep the house running
carry the parenting weight
manage money stress
show up to work
answer questions you don’t even have words for
keep going when you don’t feel like you can
So the grief doesn’t “settle.”
It stacks.
And the body responds the way bodies respond when the load is too much for too long.
What Grief Can Feel Like in the Nervous System
During my husband’s cancer journey — including a failed bone marrow transplant — my body learned to brace itself
I lived depleted.
And after he died in 2019, that bracing didn’t dissipate.
The stress didn’t end.
It shifted into a new kind of constant that felt even more heavy laden.
I’ve known:
uncontrollable hyperventilating
panic that rises out of nowhere
night sweats
sleep that won’t come — or won’t stay
a nervous system that never fully powers down
If you’ve lived anything like this, I want you to hear this clearly:
This isn’t you being dramatic.
This isn’t you being “too sensitive.”
This isn’t a lack of faith.
This is your body carrying what love and loss demanded.
Bereavement research shows that grief can affect multiple systems at once — stress regulation, immune and inflammatory pathways, sleep cycles, cognition, and autonomic nervous system rhythms (fight/flight and rest/digest).
In other words: grief shows up in the body because you’re human, not because you’re broken.
Why Words Don’t Help — and “Just Relax” Feels Cruel
Some advice sounds harmless until you’re the one living it.
“Try to relax.”
“You just need to sleep.”
“Choose joy.”
But widowhood is a major life rupture.
And your nervous system isn’t malfunctioning — it’s doing exactly what it was designed to do when safety is disrupted and responsibility is relentless.
What widows need isn’t pressure to feel better, or to perform.
It’s support to feel grounded so we can keep moving on one step at a time.
how your sense of smell can help When Grief Is in the Body
This is where gentle sensory support — especially scent — becomes something more than “nice.”
A 2025 review published in Plants and available through PubMed Central describes aromatherapy and essential oils as complementary approaches that may support wellbeing related to stress, sleep, mood, and fatigue.
Here’s the part that matters for widows:
Inhaled aromatic compounds interact with the olfactory system, which is directly connected to brain regions involved in emotion, memory, and stress regulation — the same regions grief impacts most deeply.
This is why scent can feel immediate.
Why it bypasses logic.
Why it lands in the body before words do.
This isn’t about erasing grief.
It’s about giving your body a cue of steadiness inside the grief.
A few minutes of an encouraging or grounding scent paired with breath can become a sensory anchor — something your body recognizes as:
Right now, I can breathe.
Not because life feels normal again, or you have temporarily forgotten your pain.
But because you are being supported inside of your new reality.
Somatic Support: Helping the Body Carry What the Heart Is Carrying
Grief is not only something we think about. Or that happens to us.
It’s something we hold.
That’s why body-based practices are often kinder than mindset shifts.
They don’t demand positivity.
They don’t rush acceptance. They see what has happened and recognize it’s impact.
They offer the nervous system a different experience.
Try This When the Wave Hits
The Long Exhale Reset
Put both feet on the floor
One hand on your chest, one on your belly
Inhale through the nose for 4
Exhale slowly for 6–8
Repeat 6 times
If you want, pair it with a scent you associate with steadiness.
You’re not denying grief.
You’re telling your body it doesn’t have to brace quite so hard for the next minute.
Widow-Specific Aromatic Support Rhythms
(Simple. Doable. No pressure.)
These are not prescriptions.
They are rhythms many widows naturally resonate with when the body is wired, exhausted, or overwhelmed.
For Sleep When Your Body Won’t Land
Oils: Lavender + Cedarwood
Practice: Long exhales in bed
Breath prayer:
Inhale: “God, you are with me.”
Exhale: “You will never leave.”
For Mornings When Dread Hits First
Oils: Orange or Grapefruit
Practice: Open curtains, sip warm water, breathe before screens
Anchor phrase: “I am here. God is here.”
For Decision-Making When Panic Rises
Oils: Bergamot or Vetiver
Practice: Box breathing (4-4-4-4) before the call, errand, or appointment
For Grounding When You Feel Unreal or Unsteady
Oils: Frankincense or Vetiver
Practice: Press feet into the floor. Name 5 things you can see.
Ask gently: What is one next right thing?
Writing + breathing: How Widows Process Without Being Overwhelmed
This pairing matters more than most people realize.
Writing helps the brain integrate experience — giving grief somewhere to go instead of spinning endlessly inside the body.
When you add the benefits of essential oils, you give your nervous system a cue of safety + emotional support while you write.
That combination often makes it possible to stay present without getting swallowed.
The Gratefuls Practice
Use a comforting essential oil while you write.
12 small gratefuls (last 24 hours):
hot water in the shower
a text that didn’t demand anything
a moment your shoulders dropped
a song that felt like company
a meal you didn’t have to think too hard about
3 large gratefuls:
God’s presence
Survival through an unwanted season
A life that still holds meaning, even with pain
This doesn’t deny grief.
It widens the nervous system’s capacity to hold more than one truth at once.
Why I Personally Believe in This Support
I don’t share this as theory.
I share it because my body reached places words could not express.
Essential oils didn’t fix my grief.
They didn’t remove my loss.
But they gave my nervous system something steady to lean into and hold onto when everything else felt unsteady.
They helped me breathe when panic wanted to take over.
Sleep when my body wouldn’t land.
Stay present when the weight felt unbearable.
And over time, that really mattered and made a tremendous difference.
A Gentle Next Step (If You Feel Yourself Here)
If you’re reading this and thinking:
“I don’t need another thing — but I do need support,”
I understand.
I’ve put together some simple options for widows to find and explore using essential oils for nervous-system support.
You will find:
which oils I personally use and recommend for widows or those grieving
ways to use them simply (no overwhelm)
why these matter to me and how I use them
👉 [Explore essential oils for widowhood / grief support here]
A Closing Word for Widows
If your body still feels on edge, it doesn’t mean you’re failing.
It means you loved.
It means you lost.
It means you are still adjusting to the weight of carrying these two things at once.
And there are gentle, natural supports that can help you carry it — breath, body, scent, writing, prayer — small anchors that remind your nervous system:
You are not alone in this.
Research Referenced
Seiler et al., The Psychobiology of Bereavement — impacts on stress, immune, and autonomic pathways.
Caballero-Gallardo et al. (2025), Aromatherapy and Essential Oils as Complementary Wellbeing Support, Plants.
Widowhood grief affects more than emotions — it impacts the nervous system, sleep, stress regulation, cognition, and the body itself. Many widows experience physical symptoms of grief such as anxiety, panic, exhaustion, disrupted sleep, and nervous system overload following the loss of a spouse. Research in bereavement psychology and psychobiology shows that prolonged grief and caregiving stress can influence autonomic nervous system rhythms, immune and inflammatory pathways, and overall wellbeing. Gentle, body-based support — including somatic practices, breathwork, journaling, prayer, and sensory tools like essential oils — may help widows support nervous system regulation and carry grief with steadiness. This post offers grief-informed, natural support options for widows seeking holistic, faith-rooted ways to care for their bodies while navigating loss.
7 Goals That Actually Matter for Widows in 2026
Losing your husband doesn’t just break your heart—it reshapes your body, your faith, and your capacity for life. These seven grief-informed goals offer widows a different way forward in 2026—one rooted in safety, connection, and honest care beyond survival.
Losing your husband is disorienting.
There’s no easing into it. Grief doesn’t arrive gently—it takes you out. It knocks you flat on your face.
You try to get up, but the energy it takes just to stand leaves your legs shaky. The thought of walking forward—of moving into a life shaped by this kind of loss—feels beyond exhausting. Overwhelming in ways you didn’t know were possible.
Over time, you find a rhythm.
You learn how to get through the days. How to function. How to survive.
And for a while, survival feels like enough.
But somewhere along the way, a quieter question starts to surface—one you might not even say out loud:
Is survival really all there is now?
What if God has more for you than just surviving the death of your husband?
What if He honestly has more than just getting you through the day?
What about a life that still holds meaning?
What about purpose that doesn’t feel forced or fake?
What about moments that actually feel life-giving—the kind that settle your body, soften your thoughts, and remind you there is still goodness to be found, even here?
Because losing a spouse doesn’t just break your heart.
It changes how your brain works.
It changes how your body carries stress, fatigue, and emotion.
And it can quietly shift how you experience God, leaving Him feeling distant, muted, or harder to reach than He used to be.
Widowhood takes so much.
And yet… it also asks something new of us.
Not to move on.
Not to rush healing.
But to find a different rhythm—one that goes beyond survival and slowly opens space for life again.
That’s what these seven goals are about.
Not resolutions.
Not pressure.
Just what actually matters for widows stepping into 2026.
7 goals to help a widow move out of survival mode in 2026
1. create a heart space for your grief
Grief needs to be felt and processed to move.
So many widows carry the load internally—processing in their heads, over and over again. Ruminating. Over time, that kind of carrying becomes exhausting.
Making a heart space is about permission.
Permission to pause.
Permission to feel.
Permission to be honest.
This might look like creating a physical Grief Nook—a cozy chair, a journal, a wrap, a few meaningful objects. And time, time to be intentional. Time set aside where grief is allowed to exist without interruption.
Grief moves differently, more freely, when it knows it has a safe place to land and process.
And so do you. Having a physical space designed specifically to hold you well as you try new ways of processing the loss you carry with you — helps you to feel safe, seen, held and free to release.
2. Help your body feel safe
Grief doesn’t only live in the heart—it lives in the body.
After loss, the nervous system often stays on high alert. Sleep changes. Startle responses increase. Rest feels shallow or unreachable.
You can’t think your way out of that. Ruminating won’t resolve this.
Helping your body feel safe again might look like gentle grounding techniques, breath prayers, sensory awareness, or stillness. Small, repeated practices matter more than big efforts.
Science tells us that consistency helps the nervous system relearn safety. But even without knowing the science, most widows feel it when their body finds ways to exhale.
This isn’t about fixing the loss… because we can’t.
It’s about caring for yourself, and reminding yourself you are still safe and held in the midst of the ache.
3. Finding new ways to Sit with Jesus in your grief
Grief changes faith.
Prayer time shifts.
Scripture lands differently.
God can feel quieter—distant.
Many widows carry this unspoken thought:
”I don’t know how to be with God like I used to. I’m just not feeling it.”
God hasn’t changed but our ability to be present, connect, and feel safe in this world has..
This leads us to an invitation.
Sitting with Jesus in your grief and building authentic connection can look and feel very different after an extreme loss. Sometimes it looks like silence. Sometimes brutal honesty. Sometimes it’s a creative process. Often it is by engaging the imagination differently.
Jesus isn’t waiting for you to be “better.”
He’s already here. Right in the midst. He understands + loves you in the most tender way.
He sees you.
4. Practice gratitude without pretending
Gratitude after loss can feel very complicated.
It’s often mistaken for denial or forced positivity—and that’s not what this is about. At all.
This isn’t about slapping a grateful face on a broken heart or convincing yourself things are okay when they’re not.
And yet… there’s something important here.
Consistent gratitude practices are known to support the brain and nervous system, especially after trauma. They don’t erase pain—but they do help the mind notice moments of safety and goodness alongside grief, not instead of it.
That matters.
Because grief keeps the brain on high alert. And gratitude, practiced gently and honestly, can help soften anxiety and bring the nervous system out of constant bracing.
One simple rhythm many widows find supportive looks like this:
noticing small, everyday moments that don’t hurt
returning to a few big anchors that have carried you over time
Noticing doesn’t mean celebrating.
It just means allowing your brain to register something neutral or good without arguing with it.
Over time, this kind of practice helps different parts of the brain work together more smoothly. It creates small shifts—less looping, a little more breath, a little more space.
This isn’t about pretending life is okay.
It’s about helping your brain remember that goodness still exists in the middle of grief.
And sometimes, that’s enough for today.
GOAL 4 - Try listing 12 small gratefuls from the last 24 hours — little things you are thankful fo. And list 3 BIG gratefuls over the span of your life. Make a daily practice of this.
5. Move in ways that help grief move
Grief lives in the body.
Unprocessed emotion often shows up as tension, fatigue, pain, illness or restlessness. Thoughts loop. Emotions and experiences get stuck.
And surprisingly, movement doesn’t have to be an intense workout to be effective.
Walking. Stretching. Dancing. A gentle rhythm. Breathing while moving.
Somatic practices help emotions complete their cycle instead of lodging inside the body. Over time, movement can soften anxiety, bring clarity, and help your system release what it’s been holding.
In 2026, let movement be about listening, relaxing + releasing—not pushing.
6. Connection of the heart
Grief isolates in quiet ways.
Not always because people leave—but because it becomes harder to know how to share what’s real. You don’t want to overwhelm anyone. You don’t want to manage their reactions. Sometimes you don’t even know where to start.
Connection doesn’t have to mean a crowd.
It might be one trusted friend.
It might be a small grief group.
It might be intentional conversation where honesty is welcome and fixing or resolving is not the goal.
Grief moves differently when it’s witnessed. When it is held with care and kindness.
This is the heart behind The Widow’s Table Challenge—a six-week invitation into intentional, grief-informed conversation for widows and the friends who want to love them well.
No platitudes.
No pressure.
Just space to speak and be heard.
If you want more information on this sign up for the newsletter below. It will be coming out in January.
7. Letting your love go somewhere again
One of the quieter, less recognized, losses in widowhood is this:
your love suddenly has nowhere to go.
Your encouragement.
Your care.
Your tenderness.
Many widows unconsciously tuck this away, believing it’s safer not to offer too much of themselves. Or believing they don’t have the energy or will to offer it.
But we were created to love others. Love that has nowhere to go doesn’t disappear—it turns inward and grows heavy.
Letting your love go somewhere again doesn’t mean getting into a romantic relationship, or over-giving, or rescuing. It simply means allowing the gift of you, or something you have to offer, to be shared in a way that feels safe and life-giving.
Love is still a part of who you are. What you still carry and still have to offer.
And someone, somewhere, in this broken world needs what God has given you to offer.
Something thoughtful, something small, or big. A kind word, a thoughtful card, a meal…
2026 Goal - make a weekly pattern of giving some love and encouragement from your heart to another.
A word about time - Schedule it, write it down.
Grief has a way of distorting time.
Days blur.
Weeks slip by.
Months pass and you wonder where they went. And change can be hard.
This is where writing things down can be quietly powerful—not to track progress, but to help your brain light up. What fires together, wires together.
Journaling your grief experiences, recording your daily gratefuls, planning your weekly gives, or simply recording small rhythms can help anchor meaning in a season that often feels scattered.
This mattered.
I mattered.
This moment counted.
A gentle invitation
If this resonated, recognize that you’re not behind.
You noticed, you’re paying attention, and you are headed into new areas.
Through my newsletter, I share:
Grief Nook setup ideas
Somatic practices for nervous system care
Journal rhythms that don’t add pressure
Science-informed grief support
Details about The Widow’s Table Challenge
No fixing.
No rushing.
Just thoughtful + kind care for yourself in the wake of deep loss.
You are so welcome here. Just as you are.
And you’re welcome at the table.
Widows, do you need help moving beyond survival mode? Here are 7 steps you can make a priority in 2026.
Widowhood impacts the brain, body, faith, and relationships in profound ways that often go unseen. This grief-informed reflection offers widows practical and compassionate guidance for life after the loss of a husband, including nervous system support, somatic grief practices, spiritual connection with Jesus, honest relationships, and community care. Written for widows seeking meaning beyond survival, this article explores holistic grief support, faith after loss, and relational healing through intentional practices and safe connection. Additional resources, including grief journaling, Grief Nook setup, somatic tools, and the Widow’s Table Challenge, are available through ongoing support shared by the author.