Permission to Not Move On
A gentle invitation to linger where the world tells you to rush.
Grief isn’t linear, but the world often is. Schedules keep coming. Emails pile up. Someone asks how you’re doing and you say “fine” because there’s neither time nor space for the real answer. We’re taught to move on. To find closure. To reframe the narrative and “grow from it.” And while growth has its place, so does the quiet act of not moving on.
This is a note for anyone who still feels tethered to something others say you should be over by now—a person, a loss, a version of yourself, a dream that didn’t survive. You don’t have to be over it. You don’t have to make it make sense. You are allowed to stay with what still aches.
Linger, On Purpose
Staying doesn’t mean getting stuck.
It means choosing not to abandon yourself.
It means allowing whatever is still unfinished to breathe, rather than forcing it closed.
If it still lives in you, it’s asking to be witnessed, not rushed.
Slowing Down | A Small Ceremony of Stillness
Time: give yourself 20–30 minutes
Tools: Something to write with, somewhere comfortable to sit or lie down, music, optional warm beverage
1. Set a soft container. Light a candle or dim the lights. Put away your phone. Let your body know this is a pause. That you won’t demand anything of it right now. If you're holding something—grief, tension, tenderness—give it permission to stay, too.
2. Choose one of these songs (or all three):
Let yourself feel what you feel. Not what you think you should feel. Not what others would be comfortable with. Just the raw, inconvenient, beautiful truth of where you are.
3. When the music ends, write for 5-10 minutes. Try beginning with one of these prompts:
“What I haven’t moved on from is…”
“I still carry…”
“I don’t want to let go of…”
“If I let myself linger here, I notice…”
There’s no right answer. There’s just what’s true. There’s a kind of strength in refusing to rush. A quiet resistance in listening instead of leaving. If no one’s told you lately: You’re allowed to take your time. Especially here. Especially now.
Why It’s OK Not to "Move On"
It might help to know you’re not alone—there’s plenty of evidence that grief doesn’t follow a deadline.
Research dismantles the idea that grief unfolds in predictable stages—experiencing grief outside of those stages doesn’t mean something’s wrong.
Some grief never fully “resolves.” As long as the person or loss matters, grief lingers—and that’s normal.
When society de-legitimizes or minimizes grief—especially losses that aren't socially recognized—it’s called disenfranchised grief, and it often prevents people from moving forward on their own terms.
Grief doesn’t always feel immediate; it can surface later, more subtly—or be postponed entirely by the body until survival feels safe. That delay doesn’t invalidate it.
For Further Reading
“We Don’t Recover From Grief, and That’s Okay”, a thoughtful exploration of what living with grief really means—from What’s Your Grief.
“No, You Don’t Have to ‘Move On.’ It’s Okay to Grieve Forever.”, a deeply resonant piece from The Washington Post challenging cultural expectations around closure.
Ambiguous Loss and Disenfranchised Grief—conceptual frameworks that show why not all grief looks or feels like we expect it to.
