When Grief, Anxiety, and People Pleasing Collide

Grief doesn’t always look like sobbing in a dark room or missing work for weeks on end. Sometimes, it looks like showing up to a birthday dinner even though you're emotionally numb. Smiling at coworkers when you're silently screaming inside. Telling your partner you're “fine” because the thought of being honest feels like too much.

If you’ve ever wondered why it feels so hard to grieve — especially in a way that feels real and honest — while also managing anxiety and the pressure to be everything for everyone, you’re not alone.

For many high-functioning adults in New York City, grief doesn’t happen in isolation. It collides with anxiety. With a lifetime of people pleasing. With the internal rules that say, “Don’t make this about you.”

This post is for you if you're navigating grief but don’t feel like you’re “doing it right,” or you’re exhausted from holding it all together, and you’ve wondered whether therapy might help you make sense of it all.

Person looking out a window in NYC, feeling isolated while grieving.

The Hidden Intersection: Grief, Anxiety, and People Pleasing

Let’s start by acknowledging this: grief is not just about death. It’s about loss — and loss can take many forms. Maybe someone you loved passed away. Maybe your relationship ended. Maybe a chapter of your life closed that you weren’t ready to leave behind, or you’re struggling to get something you desperately want. And maybe you kept going, because you had no choice.

But here's what happens when that grief is left unprocessed — especially for someone who already struggles with anxiety and people pleasing:

You Start to Feel Invisible

When you're the one who's “always okay,” people often stop checking in. They assume you’ve bounced back. Meanwhile, you’re drowning. You might find yourself feeling resentful — Why hasn’t anyone asked how I’m doing? — but also unsure how to actually open up.

You might tell yourself, They’re going through their own stuff. I don’t want to bother anyone. So you keep it in. And you feel more alone than ever.

You Suppress Your Own Emotions

If you're used to being the “strong one,” grief can feel like a threat to your identity. You might downplay your pain to avoid making others uncomfortable or to keep from falling apart. You may find yourself saying things like:

  • “I’m doing okay — all things considered.”

  • “I don’t want to make this a big thing.”

  • “Other people have it worse.”

Suppressing your grief doesn’t make it go away. It just pushes it underground, where it festers — often showing up as anxiety, irritability, fatigue, or emotional detachment.

You Pressure Yourself to "Be Back to Normal"

One of the most common things I hear from clients is: “I should be over this by now.”

There’s a deep pressure — especially in busy, fast-paced environments like NYC — to bounce back quickly, be productive, and get on with life. So you go to the dinner party. You attend the work happy hour. You keep saying yes to plans when you really just want to collapse in a dark, comfortable place and hibernate for a while — because you don’t want to disappoint anyone or seem like you're struggling.

How Anxiety Complicates Grief

Alongside the grief, there’s often also fear about how it’s changing you. Grief and anxiety can create an exhausting internal loop where instead of simply feeling the loss, you might be consumed by thoughts of:

  • What if I’m being judged for how I’m grieving?

  • What if I seem too emotional or too withdrawn?

  • What if I lose this friendship because I’m not the same person right now?

These aren’t overreactions — they’re deeply rooted fears that often stem from long-held patterns of needing to appear composed, agreeable, or emotionally self-sufficient. The fear isn’t just about judgment. It’s about disconnection.

So you may start to micromanage how you grieve: trying not to cry too much, or at all. Checking how you come across. Replaying conversations where you tried to be honest. Worrying whether others are pulling away.

It’s exhausting. And it keeps you from fully processing your loss.

The Role of People Pleasing

People pleasing often stems from early experiences where you learned to minimize your needs — where it felt safer to stay quiet, agreeable, and emotionally low-maintenance. So in adulthood, it becomes second nature to prioritize others' comfort over your own truth.

When grief enters the picture, this pattern becomes even more entrenched. You may:

  • Avoid talking about your grief so others don’t feel awkward.

  • Downplay your sadness so you don’t seem “too much.”

  • Take care of everyone else — cleaning, organizing, checking in — because it gives you something to do, distracts you from your own pain, and frankly, is just your default. It’s how you’ve kept connection and stability in relationships for a long time.

The deeper belief here is often: If I make things easy for others, I’ll be loved. If I take up too much space, I’ll be abandoned.

But when you’re already emotionally depleted, this caretaking mode can become quietly unsustainable — leaving you isolated, drained, and unsupported.

Grief is not something that can be compartmentalized indefinitely. Sooner or later, it demands your attention.

The Shame Spiral

When anxiety and people pleasing combine with grief, it’s easy to fall into shame. You may think:

  • I shouldn’t still be sad.

  • I should be handling this better.

  • It’s been months. What’s wrong with me?

But here’s the truth: There is no timeline for grief. And there’s no gold medal for hiding your pain.

The shame you feel isn't proof that you're failing — it's a sign that your grief needs more care and compassion than it’s getting.

What Therapy Can Offer

If you’re reading this and recognizing yourself, therapy might be the space you’ve been missing.

Here’s what therapy can help you do:

1. Make Space for Your Emotions

Therapy gives you permission to slow down and actually feel your feelings — without judgment, interruption, or the need to perform. It’s a place where your grief can exist, even if you’ve been hiding it from everyone else (including yourself).

2. Unpack the Roots of Your People Pleasing

Many of my clients begin to realize that their people-pleasing habits didn’t start in adulthood. Therapy helps you connect the dots — where these patterns began, how they served you, and how they may be holding you back now.

3. Move Through Shame with Self-Compassion

Shame thrives in silence. In therapy, we work to gently name the shame, understand its function, and begin to shift your internal dialogue from self-criticism to compassion.

4. Set Boundaries Without Guilt

You don’t have to go to every social event. You don’t have to respond to every text right away. You don’t have to keep showing up when you're running on empty. Therapy can help you practice boundary-setting in a way that feels authentic — not rude or selfish.

5. Rebuild Trust With Yourself

When you’ve spent years managing others' needs before your own, it’s hard to even know what you need. Therapy helps you reconnect with your intuition — to learn how to pause, check in with yourself, and trust that your emotions matter.

You Don’t Have to Carry It All Alone

If you’re grieving — whether it’s a recent loss or something that happened years ago — and you’re also managing anxiety, perfectionism, or the weight of always being “the strong one,” know this:

You’re not broken. You’re not weak. And you’re not alone.

You may have learned that asking for support is selfish. That emotions are private. That being low-maintenance is the goal. But those rules? They’re not the truth.

You’re allowed to feel.
You’re allowed to ask for help.
You’re allowed to grieve — in your own way, on your own time.

Peaceful therapy office space in Manhattan, ready for new clients

Considering Therapy in New York?

If this resonates with you and you're located in New York City — or anywhere in New York State — I’d be honored to support you.

As a licensed therapist, I specialize in working with thoughtful, high-functioning adults who often feel stuck, anxious, or unsure how to express what they need. Many of my clients are navigating old grief while juggling life in a demanding city, trying to keep up appearances while feeling emotionally depleted underneath.

You don’t need to wait until things get worse to reach out.

Therapy is a space where you don’t have to perform. You don’t have to hide. And you don’t have to figure it all out on your own.

If you're interested in working together, I invite you to schedule a free consultation call.

Let’s explore whether therapy might help you feel more grounded, more seen, and more able to move forward — without losing yourself in the process.

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When Asking for Help Feels Impossible: Why It’s So Hard to Let Others In

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Grief Isn’t Always About Death