Why summer can feel extra lonely for grievers

Summer is supposed to be the season of joy — or so we’re told. It’s the time for vacations, backyard gatherings, bonfires, and long days that stretch into warm evenings. Social media fills with images of friends at the beach, families on trips, weddings, and reunions. For those living with grief, this contrast can feel jarring, even surreal. While the world seems to be in full bloom, you might feel like you're wilting inside. The heat and sun, rather than spurring us into social mode, can just feel … heavy.

Grief doesn’t follow a seasonal schedule. It can feel especially heavy during summer because the cultural script demands lightness, energy, and sociability — all things that can feel out of reach when you’re navigating loss. You may find yourself avoiding invitations, dreading the pressure to “make the most” of these long days, or feeling hollow in the spaces where a loved one used to be. The very rituals that once brought joy, like cookouts, fireworks, beach trips, may now feel like a cruel reminder of what’s missing.

Part of the pain in summer grief is the dissonance. The external world pushes brightness and momentum, while your internal world may be still, tender, or aching. That mismatch can make you feel disconnected not only from others but from yourself. You might wonder, Why can't I just enjoy this? or feel guilt for not being able to “snap out of it.” But … grief slows us down. It changes our nervous system. It asks us to feel, not perform. What lessons can this slowness give us? What could we learn by being more in alignment with what our body needs?

Grief also has a way of disrupting routines, and summer is full of those disruptions already. If you’re a parent, you might be juggling different childcare needs. If you work in a field with seasonal shifts, your schedule may be bananas. This lack of structure can exacerbate feelings of isolation or fatigue. The long, hot days can feel endless when you’re not sleeping well, when the person you’d call to complain to is gone, or when you just can’t imagine doing anything social.

If you’re grieving right now and feeling out of step with the season, you’re not broken — you’re simply being honest. Give yourself permission to let this summer look different. That might mean opting out of some traditions, creating quiet rituals of your own, or seeking out slower, more nourishing rhythms. Grief doesn't need you to have a tan! (Or maybe yours does, be curious!) But often grief asks for space, honesty, and gentleness.

Consider making space for your grief with simple summer rituals: an early morning walk before the heat, a cool bath with calming smells, writing a letter to someone you miss, or lying in the shade with a book that speaks to your current state. Let go of the idea that this season needs to be productive or memorable. Right now, it might just need to be survivable — and that’s enough.

You are not the only one who feels the ache while others celebrate. The truth is, many people carry invisible grief into the sunshine. You are not alone in your slowness, your sadness, your need to move differently through this bright and bustling season. There is room for your grief here, even in the heat.