When my husband died, I thought I knew what grief felt like—I’d lost family before, been to funerals, experienced deep sadness. But this was different. This was grief that unraveled every part of my life. In this post, I’m sharing what really happened in the months after his death, how I came to understand the impact of grief on the body and nervous system, and why support—especially from other widows—was nothing like I expected it to be.
I had experienced death before my husband died, but this grief is so different.
Grandparents, aunts and uncles, my husband’s best friend, even pets. Funerals and loss weren’t new to me. I thought I had an idea of what grief looked like. I thought I knew what to expect.
But here’s what no one tells you: Unless you’ve lost someone whose life is completely entwined with yours—someone you live with, parent with, make decisions with—you are not prepared.
I wasn’t.
When my husband was diagnosed, I braced myself. I worried about money. I worried about our son not having his dad to be daft with him, to play the games I’m rubbish at. I thought preparing for it would help me survive it.
But nothing could have prepared me for the tsunami that hit.
Nothing was the same. Everything was flattened. And I was so mentally and emotionally unprepared for what grief actually feels like when it lives in your house.
I didn’t know how to name what was happening. I thought I was grieving wrong. I didn’t understand the anger, the irritability. What happened to my parenting skills? Why did they vanish? Why was my body hurting in weird ways? Why was I suddenly convinced I had cancer?
Some parts of me shut down. Other parts went into overdrive. I became obsessed with sorting paperwork, calling banks, dealing with car insurance. The admin of death. I thought I was being avoidant, or doing it all wrong.
Only later did I learn I was doing what so many grieving people do: trying to regain control of a life that felt utterly out of control.
The only emotion I had easy access to was irritation. Rage.
My nervous system was so frayed, but I didn’t even know what a nervous system was back then. I stumbled through each day feeling flat, wrong, judged—mostly by myself. Fear ruled everything.
All I wanted was someone to tell me it would be okay. That I’d figure it out. That the future wasn’t permanently broken.
I thought support was pointless. That time and gritted teeth were the only answers. I tried counselling, but even then, I held back. I didn’t share the darkest thoughts or scariest fears. Later, I found out those thoughts were incredibly common.
That counsellor suggested a widow support group. I rolled my eyes. Why would I want to sit around with other people who were sad and broken? I had enough sadness in my own house.
But one morning, in the stillness of my bathroom as I was brushing my teeth, I fell apart. I fell uncontrollably apart and I didn’t know what to do in that very moment. That’s when I picked up my phone and started talking to a support group full of widows. They were there to hold me.
I then started engaging more in the online community of widows—and realised that so much of what I thought was “grieving wrong” was actually just one of many common responses to loss. It was wildly comforting. But I also saw that while there was space to share fear, worry, and hope, there wasn’t much guidance for what to do next.
In the meantime, I had discovered the healing powers of yoga. I trained to become a teacher and completed a grief educator course with David Kessler. I started sharing yoga with people in that group and saw it impacted them as much as it did me.
That’s when I created my own free community on Facebook: a place not just to be seen and heard, but to find a way toward hope again.
This is why I created the spaces I now offer—not because I got it right, but because I didn’t. Because I went through it alone longer than I needed to. Because no one told me grief lived in my nervous system, not just in my heart. Because no one explained why the things that used to work… suddenly didn’t.
You’re not broken. You’re grieving. And support does help—especially the kind you never thought you’d need.
If you feel like community might not be your thing either… why not find out for yourself?
On 1st June, Karen Sutton (@thewidowcoach) and I are hosting a half-day virtual retreat: Widows Connect.
In 3.5 hours together, you’ll experience what a softened, soothed nervous system actually feels like (spoiler: it’s soooo good). Karen will also share actionable tools and tips you can begin using right away.
Curious? 👉 Click here to learn more and sign up
If you want a safe place to start taking tiny, brave steps...
… whether that’s movement, meditation, community, or even travel — come join my free private group for the widowed.
You don’t have to do this alone.
x Orla