Why Every Problem Hurts More Than It Should (and How to Heal It)

Loss is everywhere. So is the power to heal.

Photo by Nastia Petruk on Unsplash

The Hidden Cost of Change

All problems share one common thread: grief and loss.

Sure, change can feel exciting — full of fresh starts and new beginnings. But every beginning is born from an ending.

And at the scene of every ending, you’ll find some form of grief and loss.

Sometimes it's obvious — like losing a loved one. Other times, it’s subtle — like the loss of identity after retirement, or the bittersweet shift from summer freedom to the structure of a new school year.

Grief and loss are everywhere because change is everywhere.

My Personal Lessons in Loss

When I moved from Long Island to Las Vegas, I lost my favorite job at the time.
When my mom passed away, I lost the dream of ever repairing our relationship.
When Covid lockdowns swept the world, I lost community, income, a sense of normalcy — even my sense of autonomy.

Loss isn't always about people.
It's also about lost hopes, lost routines, lost pieces of who we thought we were.

But here’s what most of us miss: we don't just experience grief and loss — we produce it.

We are the architects of our emotional experience.
And our focus is the vehicle that drives that experience.

The Stories We Tell Ourselves

Truth: Life hands us both beauty and pain.
Truth: Change is inevitable.
Truth: The experiences we choose to focus on, replay, and canonize dictate how we feel.

When my beloved dog Sixto died in 2013, I unknowingly traumatized myself by the way I focused my thoughts:

• You should have known something was wrong.

• You should have gone to the vet sooner.

• You should have walked him more.

Each thought became more cutting than the previous.
Each replay reopened the wound.

I built a vivid trauma loop, and I didn’t know then what I know now.

Somewhere along the way, society teaches us that the depth of our grief proves the depth of our love.

I call bullshit.

The amount you grieve often has less to do with love and more to do with how much you torment yourself inside your own mind.

I know, because I lived it.

A Different Choice

When my mother passed during Covid, after years of painful estrangement, I had another opportunity to grieve differently.

This time, I chose intentionally.

Instead of replaying regrets or "should-haves," I focused on the positive memories we did have:

A Christmas shopping trip to Tanger Outlets on a crisp, fall day under a vivid blue sky. Carrying her bags, no one loved Christmas shopping more than my mom.

Driving my mom from Northport, New York to Prosperity, South Carolina to visit my grandmother. Hearing her say, “You’re a very courteous driver, I feel safe with you.” A precious gift.

A rare phone call with mom after I moved to Las Vegas, listening to her observe, “I have two daughters: one is never happy with anything no matter how good things are. The other is happy with little things no matter how bad things are.”

There were others too: her surprise 60th birthday party, our shared love of thunderstorms, lazy afternoons reading, and meals at Greek diners.

Yes, I cried.
Yes, I felt the gut-punch of loss.

But this time, when the first "should" tried to slip in, I caught it.
I shifted.
I chose to build a highlight reel of good memories, not a horror film of regrets.

We Can't Always Choose Change - But We Can Choose Our Response

We don't get to pick every change that knocks at our door.

But we do get to choose how we answer it.

You have the ability to direct your thoughts.
You can decide to remember the best.
You can keep the good parts and let the rest dissolve.

No amount of grief can undo what has already changed.

But how you honor what mattered - that’s still within your power.

Practice Choosing Calm

Sometimes the hardest part of change isn’t the event itself — it’s how we stay stuck in the emotions afterward.

One simple way I stay present and calm — even during painful moments — is by using tapping.

Here’s a 60-second tap-along you can do with me right now:

(Transcript excerpt:)
Feel your fingers, take a breath, and repeat:

*"I release and let go of whatever is left that I've been trading my calm for. I choose calm. I give myself permission to feel calm no matter what's happening around me."

No thinking. No storytelling.
Just feeling.

Notice how much lighter you feel after one minute.

You always have the ability to shift your focus — and your experience.

I love the phrase: "celebration of life."

Celebrate the gifts in your experiences - even the ones that ended.

How to Start Honoring Life, Even in Loss

• Lost a job? Remember what you loved about it - even one or two small things.

• Lost a pet? Relive the moments they made you laugh.

• Lost someone important? Challenge yourself to list twenty-two positive memories. Write them down. Fill them in. Revisit each one with tenderness.

You don't erase pain by ignoring it.
You transform pain by focusing on the meaning and memories worth keeping.

Which Would You Choose?

Ask yourself this:

When you graduate from this life, would you want your loved ones to stay trapped in grief...

Or would you want them to remember the joy, the love, the light you brought into their lives?

I know what I choose.

I honor my life, and the lives of those who mattered to me, by focusing on the gifts they gave, and by choosing to keep their best moments alive inside me.

You can too.

Which memories are you ready to celebrate today?