Will I Ever Feel Happy Again After Grief?

After losing Lani, this question haunted me.

Can I ever really feel happy again?

Grief flips your world upside down. What was once normal feels foreign. The future, once full of plans and energy, suddenly feels like a blur. And in the middle of it all, there’s that quiet, painful question: Is this my life now?

I Asked Myself a Better Question

In those early weeks, I made a conscious decision.
Each morning, I’d ask: “What would Lani want for me today?”

It wasn’t some big moment of inspiration. It was survival. A daily nudge toward forward movement. Because I knew she wouldn’t want me drowning in sorrow.

That question helped guide me. It gave me purpose on the days when nothing else made sense.

The Truth About Happiness After Loss

You don’t go back to the version of happiness you once knew. That’s gone. And that’s hard.
But that doesn’t mean happiness isn’t possible.

What you can find is a new version of it. Slower. Softer. Built moment by moment.

I’m not happy when I think about losing Lani. But I’ve learned to find moments of happiness within the day. Small things that spark something — a sense of life still being worth living.

And as time goes on, I’ve started to look for more of those moments. Not to forget her, but to honour her.

What Helped Me Most

Grief is different for everyone, but here are some tangible things I did — and still do — to create space for joy:

• Get outside every day.
  Even 20 minutes of fresh air and light can change your headspace. Morning walks with my dogs became non-negotiable. It’s simple, but it grounds you.

• Move your body.
  I trained 4–5 times a week. It wasn’t about aesthetics — it was about rhythm, structure, and proving to myself that I could still show up.

• Eat real food.
  I stuck to a carnivore-based diet. Minimal effort, maximum clarity. Food that fuels you changes your mood, your energy, and your ability to cope.

• Cut out the noise.
  For a couple of weeks, I avoided music. I skipped shows and films that were emotionally heavy. I wasn’t numbing myself — I was protecting my energy.

• Laugh, even when it feels weird.
  Comedy shows, stand-up, light-hearted films — they gave me something I didn’t realise I needed. Permission to feel okay, even if just for an hour.

• Meditation and breathing.
  Not every day, but often enough. Just sitting still, even for five minutes, reminded me that my thoughts didn’t have to run the show.

• Avoid asking painful questions you can’t answer.
  I’d often catch myself thinking things like “Why did this happen to her?” or “Why do other people get to grow old together?”
  When I did, I’d say out loud: “Change it.”
  I’d then shift the focus to a better question, like “What am I grateful we shared?” or “What beauty did we get to experience together?”
  This one practice changed everything for me.

Grief Doesn’t Go Away — But It Doesn’t Get to Win

The key is not waiting for happiness to return like it used to be. It’s looking for new ways to experience it now.

You’re not broken because you feel pain.
You’re not weak for laughing during grief.
You’re still here — and that means you still have a say in how you live.

So no, I’m not “over it.” I never will be.

But I am building something again. Slowly. Steadily. And with intention.

You can too.

— Chris Spring
The Rebuild Lab