Ambivalent Grief: When Loss Hurts and Confuses at the Same Time

Ambivalent Grief: When Loss Hurts and Confuses at the Same Time

Why Some Losses Are Emotionally Confusing—Even When the Grief Is Real

Not every tearless face at a funeral means someone doesn’t care. For many Americans, grief isn’t just about sadness—it’s about conflict. It’s about standing in a room full of mourners and silently asking yourself, Why don’t I feel more broken? That question often signals something deeper, something known in psychology as ambivalent grief.

Ambivalent grief doesn’t show up with the clarity we expect. Instead of the textbook sadness or emotional outpouring often associated with loss, this form of grief is layered with guilt, confusion, numbness, or even relief. These mixed emotions are real and valid, especially when the relationship with the deceased was complicated, strained, or painful.

In therapy rooms across the U.S.—from Manhattan offices to small practices in Indiana—clients describe this exact experience. A daughter who didn’t attend her father’s funeral after years of emotional abuse. A caregiver in Georgia who felt more freedom than sorrow after a long, exhausting vigil over an ailing parent. These aren’t cold-hearted stories. These are human reactions to complicated bonds.

American culture doesn’t help. In many states, especially places like Mississippi, Alabama, or Texas, where family loyalty is heavily emphasized, grief that doesn’t look “traditional” is often misjudged. “You should forgive and move on,” people say. But how do you grieve someone who left you with trauma instead of warmth?

This mismatch between what we feel and what we’re expected to feel is a heavy burden. And when our sadness is tangled with anger, regret, or numbness, grief can become isolating. People rarely talk about these mixed feelings out loud. Yet studies show that more than 1 in 4 people who experience loss in the U.S. report some form of emotional ambivalence, especially in cases involving estranged or abusive relationships.

What makes this experience even harder is how little space society gives us to talk about it. There’s a social pressure to perform grief—to post on social media, to cry in public, to accept condolences when you're unsure how you feel. But ambivalent grief refuses to fit into those neat boxes. And because it’s so misunderstood, many people never process it properly, instead internalizing their silence as a sign of something wrong with them.

The truth is: grief doesn’t have to be pure to be real. You don’t need to justify your tears—or your lack of them. Feeling both sorrow and relief, or even indifference, after a loss doesn’t make you heartless. It makes you honest. And it’s the first step toward healing something much more complicated than death: the emotional history that came before it.

Ambivalent Grief vs. Complicated Grief: What’s the Difference?

At first glance, ambivalent grief and complicated grief might seem like two names for the same emotional storm. But understanding their differences is crucial—not just for mental health professionals, but for anyone trying to make sense of their own conflicting feelings after a loss.

Let’s start with ambivalent grief. The term describes a conflicted emotional state that arises after the death of someone with whom you had a mixed or unresolved relationship. You might feel a genuine sense of loss—but also relief, resentment, guilt, or numbness. The grief isn’t absent—it’s just messy. The emotional signals point in different directions, leaving you confused.

Now contrast that with complicated grief, which is a clinical condition also known as Prolonged Grief Disorder (PGD). Recognized in the DSM-5, it’s defined by symptoms like intense yearning, difficulty accepting the death, and persistent depression-like symptoms that last longer than six months and disrupt daily functioning. Complicated grief is not about the type of relationship—but about the intensity and duration of the grieving process itself.

To simplify the distinction, here’s a comparison in plain terms:

Many people in therapy realize only after several sessions that what they’re dealing with isn’t complicated grief—but ambivalence. They say things like, “I thought I should be more upset,” or “I don’t even know if I’m sad or just relieved.” These are emotional paradoxes, not mental health disorders.

Interestingly, ambivalent grief can evolve into complicated grief if the person is unable to resolve their inner conflicts. If the guilt grows unchecked or the emotional numbness turns into depression, what starts as ambivalence can eventually become pathology. This is especially common among Americans who were raised in homes with emotional neglect, alcoholism, or covert abuse—situations where love and pain were always intertwined.

U.S.-based research from the Columbia University Department of Psychiatry highlights this: individuals with unresolved relational trauma are 30% more likely to develop complicated grief symptoms when their emotionally complex relationships end in death.

In certain professions, this risk increases even more. First responders, social workers, and nurses in states like Ohio and Pennsylvania often report ambivalent grief after losing clients or patients they were close to—but also emotionally exhausted by. The professional role creates a blurred line between empathy and self-preservation, and that tension can become fertile ground for unresolved emotions.

Understanding this difference isn’t about labeling your grief—it’s about validating it. If you feel confused or emotionally split after a loss, it doesn’t mean you're doing grief “wrong.” It simply means the relationship was layered—and so is the pain.

Real-Life Triggers of Ambivalent Grief (U.S. Focus)

In the quiet moments after loss, it’s not just the absence that hurts—it’s the weight of everything unresolved. Ambivalent grief doesn’t just appear out of nowhere. It usually begins long before death ever occurs, often shaped by the complexity of the relationship and the emotional history behind it.

One of the most common real-life triggers in the U.S. is the death of a parent from whom someone was estranged. Many adults carry unresolved childhood trauma —be it emotional neglect, verbal abuse, or inconsistency. When such a parent dies, the grief doesn’t come with clarity. There’s no clean sorrow. There’s often regret about the lack of closure, anger at the damage caused, and even guilt for not feeling “devastated enough.” A client in Illinois, for instance, described feeling like a “bad daughter” because she didn’t cry when her father passed. But in therapy, it became clear she had never felt emotionally safe with him. Her grief was not about his death—it was about everything she never received while he was alive.

In Texas, a young man who had cut ties with his brother due to years of manipulation was forced to attend the funeral when his brother died in a car crash. He felt nothing at first—and then immense guilt for that nothingness. “Everyone around me was sobbing. I felt like a monster.”

Other common triggers include:

• Loss after a conflicted romantic relationship (e.g., divorces where love was mixed with control or betrayal)

• Deaths of former partners or ex-spouses who left emotional scars

• Addiction-related deaths where the grief is muddled with exhaustion, anger, or long-standing fear

• Caring for someone who was abusive or narcissistic (e.g., a nurse in New Jersey who felt “free” after her mother passed, and then spent months punishing herself for it)

Professionals also encounter ambivalent grief in ways that aren’t always recognized. Teachers, hospice workers, therapists, and social workers often build intense but complicated bonds with those they serve. When a long-term student, client, or patient passes away—especially after difficult interactions—the grief doesn’t follow a predictable script. A school counselor in California shared the confusion she felt after a troubled student died by suicide. She had tried everything to help, but also felt burnt out. “When he died, I was devastated—but I also felt relief. And then I hated myself for that.”

These are the kinds of grief no one posts about on social media. They don’t fit into sympathy cards or traditional rituals. But they are very real—and more common than most people realize. In fact, a recent study from the University of Michigan revealed that over 27% of adults who experienced the loss of close contact in the past five years reported having mixed emotions during their grieving process.

It’s time we normalize this. Loss is rarely black and white. And when love is never simple, neither is grief.

How American Culture Intensifies Ambivalent Grief

In many parts of the world, grief is a community process. In the U.S., however, it’s often a performance.

American culture tends to treat grief as a linear journey—a beginning, a middle, and an end. You're expected to cry, mourn publicly, take a few days off work, and then “move on.” But what happens when your grief doesn’t fit this template? What happens when your tears never come, or when your sorrow is interrupted by resentment or quiet relief?

This is where ambivalent grief collides hard with the American way of coping.

There’s a phrase that frequently comes up in U.S. support groups and counselling rooms: “I didn’t grieve the way I was supposed to.” That pressure—spoken or unspoken—is deeply ingrained in the national psyche. From workplace expectations to cultural scripts, Americans are often taught to package pain in ways that are palatable. Social media only amplifies this, with curated posts, filtered tributes, and the assumption that everyone should be mourning publicly in poetic language.

For those in Midwestern states like Iowa or Ohio, where stoicism is culturally valued, grief is often silenced. People are praised for being “strong,” which can translate to emotional suppression. On the other hand, in Southern states like Georgia or Louisiana, religious and family expectations may pressure individuals into forgiveness and public mourning—even when they’re still reeling from unhealed relational wounds.

There’s also the “forgive the dead” myth—the belief that once someone passes, they deserve reverence regardless of the harm they caused. This message can be extremely damaging for survivors of abuse or neglect. They are often told to focus only on the good. But when the bad outweighed the good, forcing forgiveness feels more like emotional erasure than healing.

Let’s not ignore the racial and cultural layers either. In many Black and Latino communities in the U.S., mourning rituals are deeply spiritual and communal. While this offers strong social support, it can also come with expectations of unity that suppress individual emotional complexities. A woman from New York’s Dominican community shared in group therapy how she couldn’t express her anger about her father’s behavior before his death because “everyone in the family kept saying he was a good man.” She felt erased. And alone.

Add to this the American emphasis on productivity—where long-term mourning is seen as a weakness or lack of resilience—and you have a system that doesn’t make space for nuanced grief. In fact, according to a 2023 survey by Mental Health America, 64% of working adults in the U.S. felt they returned to work too soon after a personal loss, and over half reported feeling unable to share the full truth about their grief with coworkers or employers.

Even in therapy, clients sometimes hesitate. They ask, “Is it okay that I’m not sad all the time?” or “Does this mean I didn’t care enough?” These are questions created by cultural expectations—not psychological facts.

Ambivalent grief doesn’t fit neatly into any mold. It doesn’t perform well. It doesn’t follow rules. And in a society that often confuses emotional complexity with weakness, that makes it incredibly lonely.

But loneliness isn’t the end of the story. The truth is, ambivalent grief is an invitation—not to forget, not to forgive—but to face the full picture of what your relationship was and what it meant to you. Not what others need it to mean.

Signs You're Experiencing Ambivalent Grief (With Real Examples)

Grief doesn't always knock the same way. It doesn’t always come with tears, sleepless nights, or dramatic breakdowns. Sometimes it shows up quietly—through silence, numbness, or even a strange sense of relief. If you're unsure whether what you're feeling is “real grief,” you’re not alone.

Ambivalent grief is marked by emotional contradictions. One moment, you might feel sorrowful. The next, you’re blank, irritated, or unexpectedly relieved. These emotional swings aren't signs of being heartless. They’re evidence that your grief is more complicated than most people realize.

Let’s look at some common signs of ambivalent grief that Americans often experience—but rarely talk about:

• You feel guilty for not crying or feeling sad enough

A woman from Phoenix, Arizona, described how she didn't cry at her father's funeral. He had been emotionally distant her entire life. “Everyone else was crying. I felt... nothing. And then I felt ashamed of that nothing.”

• You're simultaneously grieving and relieved

A man from Boston had spent 15 years caring for his brother, who battled addiction and often hurt the family emotionally. When his brother died, he felt relief. “I could finally sleep at night,” he said. But then guilt overwhelmed him, almost more than the grief itself.

• You avoid talking about the person—even in private

If you actively avoid thinking about or discussing the person who passed, especially because it brings up conflicted memories, this could be a sign your grief is stuck between love and hurt.

• You feel like you don’t “deserve” to grieve

Some people feel their relationship wasn’t “close enough” or “good enough” to justify mourning. But grief isn't a competition. It's an emotional response—not a reward system.

• You replay past arguments or regrets instead of focusing on memories

This is especially common in ambivalent grief. Your mind isn’t flooded with warmth—it’s stuck on what was never said, never resolved, or never forgiven.

• You feel emotionally frozen or numb

Unlike the deep sadness of traditional grief, ambivalent grief often creates a fog—where you feel detached, unfocused, or emotionally flat for days or weeks.

A therapist in Colorado shared a case of a 43-year-old nurse who lost her mother after years of emotional manipulation. She described feeling “weirdly okay,” but then spiraling into self-doubt. “Was something wrong with me? Why didn’t I feel what my friends felt when their moms died?” she asked. The answer: nothing was wrong. Her grief was just shaped by years of emotional ambiguity.

There’s also a pattern seen in men, especially in traditionally masculine cultures in Texas, Montana, and Alaska. They may feel grief more somatically—through headaches, irritability, or withdrawal—rather than emotional expression. For many, this is compounded by cultural norms that discourage vulnerability, making ambivalent grief even more difficult to process.

Recognizing ambivalent grief matters, because until you name what you’re feeling, it’s hard to heal. And healing starts not with judgment—but with permission. Permission to feel confused. Permission to feel relief. Permission to grieve a relationship that hurt you more than it helped you.

Mental Health Risks if Ambivalent Grief Goes Untreated

Grief is a natural process, but when it's tangled with emotional conflict and left unprocessed, it can slowly unravel a person’s mental health. Ambivalent grief may start with confusion, but if ignored, it can open the door to deeper psychological struggles.

Unlike clear, straightforward grief, ambivalent grief lingers in the background. It’s like a browser tab you forgot to close—draining your emotional energy quietly, but continuously. Over time, this can lead to serious mental health consequences.

The most common risk is clinical depression. When feelings of guilt, unresolved anger, or emotional detachment are left unaddressed, they often evolve into persistent sadness, fatigue, and lack of motivation. According to the National Institute of Mental Health, nearly 18% of adults who experience grief develop symptoms consistent with depression, with higher rates among those with complicated or unresolved losses.

Another major concern is complicated grief, or Prolonged Grief Disorder (PGD). As discussed earlier, ambivalent grief can escalate into this if not processed properly. The emotional fog turns into paralysis, where every day feels like you're stuck in the same place emotionally—even years after the loss.

Then there’s anxiety and intrusive thoughts. Many people with ambivalent grief report constantly second-guessing their past decisions. “Was I too cold?” “Should I have reached out one last time?” “Did I fail them?” These questions loop endlessly, leading to rumination, poor sleep, and strained relationships with others still living.

In rural areas like Wyoming, Mississippi, and parts of West Virginia, where access to mental health care is limited, ambivalent grief often goes undiagnosed. People try to push through, believing they should be “over it by now.” But grief doesn’t work on timelines. Especially not grief that's twisted with emotional history.

Professionally, the risks are also high. Therapists and social workers across New York, California, and Illinois report that unprocessed ambivalent grief is common among caregivers, healthcare workers, first responders, and military veterans. These groups often face complicated deaths—ones that involve trauma, duty, or moral injury. If not addressed, this grief contributes to burnout, compassion fatigue, and even substance abuse as a form of emotional numbing.

Even physical health is impacted. The American Heart Association has documented increased rates of heart disease and blood pressure spikes in those going through prolonged, unresolved grief. It’s not just emotional—it’s somatic.

Here’s a breakdown of the risks linked to untreated ambivalent grief:

There’s also an emotional ripple effect. Children of adults who experience unresolved grief often feel the tension, even if it’s not spoken aloud. Emotional unavailability, irritability, or chronic pessimism can subtly affect entire family systems.

This is why acknowledging and addressing ambivalent grief is not just for you—it’s for those around you, too.

But here’s the hopeful part: ambivalent grief responds well to therapy, especially when it's caught early. While it may not look like “classic” grief, it is just as worthy of support and healing.

Therapy Approaches That Actually Help

When grief is messy, so must be the healing. There’s no one-size-fits-all method for working through ambivalent grief—but there are proven therapeutic approaches that can help unravel the emotional knots it creates. The key is not to silence the contradiction, but to hold space for it.

Across the U.S., more mental health professionals are recognizing ambivalent grief as a distinct emotional experience. While it may not be listed in diagnostic manuals, it’s being treated actively in therapy rooms—in cities, suburbs, and even telehealth platforms serving rural states.

Let’s explore how therapy works when grief isn’t just about sadness—but also about conflict, regret, and quiet relief.

Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT) is often the starting point. CBT helps people identify and challenge distorted thought patterns—especially those around guilt or unworthiness. For example, a client in Florida believed they were “bad” for feeling relieved after their mother passed. Through CBT, they learned to separate the emotion from judgment—relief wasn’t betrayal, it was emotional survival.

Narrative Therapy is another effective approach. This method encourages clients to re-author their stories, especially when relationships with the deceased were marked by pain. In a case from Oregon, a teacher worked with a therapist to rewrite the meaning of her relationship with her emotionally distant father. Instead of focusing on what never happened, she explored what she learned about boundaries and self-preservation. Narrative therapy helped her move from emotional confusion to emotional clarity.

For those whose grief is rooted in trauma—like abuse or abandonment—Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing (EMDR) can be useful. EMDR works to reduce the psychological impact of distressing memories, which is particularly relevant when the person lost was also the source of trauma. A man in Nevada, for instance, underwent EMDR to reduce flashbacks from childhood caused by a now-deceased uncle. His grief wasn’t sorrow—it was shock, confusion, and anger. EMDR helped process these safely.

Supportive grief groups—especially those facilitated by trained professionals—offer another layer of healing. These groups are now available online across all 50 states, allowing those in places like South Dakota or Maine to access validation without needing to explain away their emotional contradictions.

Here’s how different therapy types can serve ambivalent grief:

In my own practice, I often remind clients: You’re not here to forgive. You’re here to feel. Therapy is not about forcing closure. It’s about creating space where your mixed emotions are not only allowed—they’re expected.

And in the U.S., where grief is often rushed, minimized, or idealized, that space may be the only place someone truly hears, “It’s okay to feel both love and pain. Both sorrow and relief.”

Can You Grieve Someone You Didn’t Love—or Even Hated?

Yes. And it’s one of the most misunderstood realities of grief.

In therapy, this question comes up more than people would expect. Clients hesitate. They lower their voices. Then they ask: “Is it normal to grieve for someone I didn’t even like?” And the answer—always—is yes.

Grief doesn’t wait for love. It doesn’t need approval. It arises from connection, and sometimes even from the absence of it. You can grieve what you never had just as deeply as what you lost.

One powerful example comes from a woman in North Carolina whose estranged father died suddenly. She hadn’t seen him in 17 years. Her childhood had been riddled with neglect, broken promises, and disappointment. Yet when she heard the news, she collapsed into tears. “I thought I’d feel nothing,” she said. “But I cried for the little girl I used to be. The one who never got a real dad.”

That’s ambivalent grief at its core—mourning not just the person, but the unmet needs, the impossible hopes, the closure that never came.

Others grieve the impact of someone’s absence in their life. A man from Utah grieved his mother who had abandoned the family when he was 10. He didn’t cry for her as a person—he cried for the birthdays she missed, the milestones she never saw. His grief wasn’t about love. It was about longing.

And then there’s hatred. Some losses involve people who inflicted harm. Abusive spouses. Manipulative parents. People who left behind pain, not peace. When those individuals die, emotions surface that few people know how to handle.

One U.S. Army veteran in Kentucky explained how he felt rage after his former commanding officer died. The man had emotionally tormented his unit. “I hated him,” the vet said. “But when I heard he died, I went numb. And then, out of nowhere, I felt… something. Not sadness. But something. I didn’t know what to call it.”

We call it ambivalent grief. It’s grief that breaks the rules. That doesn’t look the way people expect. That dares to exist even when affection didn’t.

It’s also a kind of grief that many people hide—because society doesn't know how to respond to it. When you cry for someone who hurt you, people say, “Why are you upset?” When you don’t cry, they ask, “Didn’t you care at all?”

But here’s the truth: Grief doesn’t require affection. It only requires absence. You can grieve a person’s power over you. You can grieve their silence. You can grieve the pain they caused—and the peace you needed.

Naming this experience out loud is one of the most important things we can do, as individuals and as a culture. Because until we accept that grief can exist in contradiction, we’re forcing people into silence.

And healing never happens in silence.

How to Support Someone Going Through Ambivalent Grief

Supporting someone in grief is hard. Supporting someone going through ambivalent grief—where the emotions are contradictory, confusing, or hidden—is even harder. Many Americans say they feel completely alone when dealing with this type of grief. Not because people don’t care, but because others simply don’t understand.

In traditional grief, offering comfort might look like bringing food, sending flowers, or sharing stories of the deceased. But with ambivalent grief, those same actions can feel alienating. Imagine receiving a condolence card that says “They’ll always live in your heart”—when part of you is still working through the anger they left behind.

The first and most important thing you can do is this: Don’t assume how they should feel. Just because the person lost was a parent, sibling, spouse, or friend doesn’t mean the grief will be predictable. Ask open-ended questions like:

• What has this loss brought up for you?

• What do you wish people understood about your relationship?

• Is there anything that would feel helpful right now—or anything you’d rather avoid?

Avoid common phrases like:

• “At least they’re at peace now.”

• “Focus on the good memories.”

• “Everything happens for a reason.”

These may be well-meaning, but they often erase the complexity of what the person is feeling. A woman in Denver described how her sister’s death brought back years of bullying and exclusion. When people kept saying, “Sisters are forever,” she felt silenced. “I didn’t just lose her,” she said. “I lost the chance to ever fix it.”

If you’re in a position of leadership—say, an HR manager, pastor, teacher, or therapist—provide space without pressure. Encourage bereavement leave that isn’t limited to “close” family members. Some people experience deeper grief for someone outside of their immediate circle, especially when the relationship carries unresolved weight.

In fact, according to a 2024 survey by the Society for Human Resource Management (SHRM), only 21% of U.S. employers offered bereavement leave policies that covered non-immediate family or emotionally significant losses. This lack of flexibility often leaves people unsupported during deeply personal experiences.

In families, this support can look like not forcing conversations, allowing different members to mourn differently, and not insisting on unity if the deceased was a source of harm. In Southern states like Georgia and Mississippi, where religious rituals are central, it’s especially important to respect when someone chooses not to participate in memorial services due to emotional trauma.

Here’s what meaningful support can look like:

• Validate without solving: “It’s okay if this feels confusing.”

• Offer presence, not pressure: “I’m here—no expectations.”

• Avoid comparison: Don’t say “When I lost my mom…” unless asked.

• Offer flexible help: Instead of “Let me know,” try “Can I bring dinner Tuesday or Thursday?”

If the person chooses to open up, just listen. Let them say, “I hated him but I’m still crying,” or “I’m relieved and I feel terrible for it,” without jumping in to fix it. They don’t need clarity. They need permission to be human.

U.S. Grief Statistics & Regional Patterns

To understand the scope and depth of grief in America—especially ambivalent grief—we have to look beyond the headlines. The numbers tell us a deeper story: one of unmet needs, uneven access to support, and cultural silence around emotionally complicated loss.

According to data from the CDC's 2023 Behavioral Risk Factor Surveillance System (BRFSS):

• Nearly 72% of U.S. adults experienced the death of a loved one in the past five years.

• Of these, about 30% reported unresolved or conflicting feelings about the relationship.

• 18% said they received no emotional or therapeutic support at all.

But grief doesn’t distribute itself evenly across geography or profession. Let’s break down the data by region and occupation to see where ambivalent grief is most likely to go unaddressed:

Professionally, grief intersects with burnout, especially in caregiving roles. A 2024 report from the National Alliance for Caregiving found that:

• Over 45% of family caregivers in the U.S. reported ambivalence at the time of their loved one’s death.

• In professions like nursing, veterinary medicine, and mental health care, grief is common, but rarely named—leading to chronic emotional fatigue.

Let’s not overlook cultural differences. In Asian-American families, grief is often muted under the pressure of stoicism and achievement. In Latino communities, grief may be shared communally, but emotional contradictions are rarely expressed openly. Among Black Americans, grief often intersects with racial trauma and systemic loss—making it even harder to untangle what hurts and why.

All of this points to one truth: Ambivalent grief is not a fringe experience. It’s a deeply American one. It’s threaded through our work, our families, our identities—and yet, it remains one of the least discussed forms of emotional pain.

The challenge now is not just clinical—it’s cultural. We need more open conversations. More inclusive policies. More therapists trained in recognizing and treating the subtleties of emotionally complicated loss. And most of all, we need to normalize the idea that grief doesn’t have to be clean to be valid.

Why Ambivalent Grief Can Be a Turning Point for Healing

It may sound counterintuitive, but ambivalent grief—confusing and painful as it is—can also be a powerful moment of transformation. In the disarray of mixed emotions, there’s a rare and honest opportunity: the chance to face the truth of a relationship without the pressure to idealize it.

Grief doesn’t just reflect who we lost. It reflects how we lived with them—and how we may still carry unresolved stories. Ambivalent grief brings those stories to the surface. When we let them rise, instead of pushing them away, we begin to reclaim a part of ourselves that’s been tangled in silence or shame.

A woman in Minnesota, for example, came to therapy after her emotionally unavailable mother passed away. She didn’t cry for the loss. Instead, she wept for the child she had been—constantly trying to earn love that never came. Through grief work, she didn’t just mourn her mother. She mourned her own abandonment. And in doing so, she started healing wounds that had shaped every relationship in her adult life.

Ambivalent grief can also be the catalyst for personal boundaries, especially for those who’ve survived toxic or abusive dynamics. When someone dies, the opportunity for future harm ends. For some, that’s when healing finally begins. A father may never apologize. A sibling may never change. But through grief, you may no longer be waiting for it. And that, in itself, is freedom.

Psychologists have observed that people who fully process ambivalent grief often show signs of post-traumatic growth—not just recovery, but transformation. They become more assertive. More self-aware. More compassionate with themselves. Some go on to become therapists, advocates, or caregivers for others walking similar paths.

Here’s what healing from ambivalent grief might look like:

• Letting go of the fantasy that the relationship could have been different

• Accepting that two emotions—love and pain—can coexist

• Realizing that you’re not broken for not grieving “right”

• Forgiving yourself, even if you can’t forgive them

And perhaps most importantly: seeing yourself not as someone who’s failed to grieve, but as someone who’s finally grieving fully—truthfully.

Resources for Americans Navigating Ambivalent Grief

When grief doesn’t follow the traditional script, it’s easy to feel like you’re grieving alone. But you’re not. And you don’t have to navigate this alone, either.

Across the United States, there’s a growing awareness of emotionally complex grief—and with it, a range of resources designed to help. From national helplines to therapist directories and online communities, more people are finding safe spaces to talk about loss without needing to simplify it.

Here are trusted resources Americans can turn to when facing ambivalent grief:

Therapy & Support Platforms

• Grief support therapists: Look for therapists who specialize in trauma, attachment wounds, and family systems.

• Click2Pro: Offers access to licensed mental health professionals trained in complex grief and emotional processing.

• Open Path Collective and PsychologyToday.com: Directories for affordable therapy options by state.

For those outside the U.S. looking for culturally attuned support, connecting with the best online psychologist in India through platforms like Click2Pro can offer affordable and accessible care, especially for ambivalent grief rooted in complex family dynamics.

Online Communities

• Reddit: r/GriefSupport – Real, anonymous conversations about every kind of grief, including ambivalent experiences.

• Facebook groups – Communities like Grieving Estranged Parents or Grief After Abuse provide peer validation.

• What’s Your Grief? – An educational blog with workshops and real-life grief stories beyond the textbook version.

Books & Self-Help Tools

• It’s OK That You’re Not OK by Megan Devine – Written for people grieving relationships that weren’t perfect.

• The Grief Recovery Handbook by Russell Friedman & John W. James – Helps unpack unresolved grief and forgiveness.

National Helplines

• SAMHSA’s National Helpline: 1-800-662-HELP (4357) – Offers free, 24/7 support for emotional and substance-related grief.

• Crisis Text Line: Text HOME to 741741 – Emotional support during difficult moments of grief or guilt.

• Veterans Crisis Line: 1-800-273-8255 and Press 1 – Specific support for grief in military families.

Each of these resources is designed to do one thing: meet you where you are. Whether you’re feeling numb, angry, relieved, or unsure, there’s no “wrong” emotion. And there’s no expiration date on needing help.

Grief isn’t just about endings. It’s about reckoning. And for many Americans experiencing ambivalent grief, that reckoning might just be the beginning of something new—a life built on truth, clarity, and healing.

Conclusion: Grieving the Gray Areas Is Still Grief

Ambivalent grief is grief—no matter how many mixed emotions come with it.

In a culture that rewards certainty, it’s hard to sit with contradiction. But loss isn’t always clean. It doesn’t always hurt in the ways we expect. Sometimes, the pain is in what never was: the apology never received, the connection never formed, the relationship that left you both wounded and wanting.

Across the U.S., from therapists’ offices in Chicago to support groups in Tennessee, people are beginning to acknowledge that grief doesn’t have to follow a script. It can be confusing, quiet, or even filled with relief—and still be real.

If you find yourself grieving someone you didn’t love—or someone who didn’t love you well—know this: your emotions are valid. You are not required to justify your sadness or your silence. You’re allowed to hurt in your own way. You’re allowed to heal in your own time.

And perhaps, in honoring the truth of your experience, you’ll discover something many never do—that healing isn’t about rewriting history. It’s about releasing it.

FAQs

1. Can grief feel both painful and relieving at the same time?

Yes. Many people experience a mix of sorrow and relief, especially after the death of someone who caused pain or emotional conflict. This emotional contradiction is known as ambivalent grief, and it's more common than people realize.

2. Why do I feel numb instead of sad after someone died?

Emotional numbness often arises in ambivalent grief. If your relationship with the person was complicated or hurtful, your brain may respond by blocking emotions instead of processing them immediately. This doesn’t mean you didn’t care—it means your emotions are layered.

3. Is it normal not to cry at a funeral?

Absolutely. Crying is not the only way grief shows up. Some people feel shock, anger, guilt, or even nothing at all. Especially in ambivalent grief, where relationships are conflicted, emotional reactions may be delayed, muted, or different than expected.

4. What is ambivalent grief in psychology?

Ambivalent grief refers to the emotional confusion people feel when mourning someone with whom they had a conflicted relationship. It can include feelings of love, hate, guilt, relief, and detachment—all at once.

5. Can therapy help with ambivalent grief?

Yes. Therapy can help you unpack your feelings, understand emotional contradictions, and process unresolved pain. Techniques like CBT, narrative therapy, and EMDR are especially helpful in navigating ambivalent grief.

6. What are the mental health risks of unresolved ambivalent grief?

If left unprocessed, ambivalent grief can evolve into depression, anxiety, or Prolonged Grief Disorder (PGD). It may also lead to emotional numbing, substance use, or strained relationships. Seeking early support can prevent deeper emotional distress.

7. How do I support someone who has mixed feelings about a death?

Listen without judgment. Avoid clichés like “They’re in a better place.” Validate their emotional contradictions and offer practical support. Sometimes just saying “It’s okay to feel everything you’re feeling” can provide more comfort than advice.

About the Author

Dr. Roshni is a licensed clinical psychologist with over 12 years of experience specializing in grief therapy, trauma recovery, and emotionally complex loss. She holds a doctorate in Clinical Psychology and is a senior therapeutic advisor at Click2Pro, where she leads national programs on post-loss mental health support.

Dr. Roshni has worked extensively with individuals navigating ambivalent grief, particularly those healing from estranged family dynamics, emotional abuse, and caregiver burnout. She is passionate about making therapy accessible across urban and rural U.S. communities and often integrates evidence-based modalities like CBT, Narrative Therapy, and EMDR in her clinical practice.

Her writing blends psychological insight with real-life compassion—helping readers feel seen, understood, and empowered to begin their healing journey.

“Not all grief is clean—and not all pain needs to be justified. Sometimes, the most honest healing begins in the gray areas,” she says.