By Ari Sotiriou MA PGDip psychodynamic psychotherapist
When we think about grief, we usually imagine mourning someone we loved deeply and whose presence enriched our lives. We expect sadness because someone precious has gone.
But not every bereavement is like that.
Sometimes the person who dies was emotionally absent, mentally unwell, neglectful or even abusive. The relationship may have been marked by disappointment, fear, anger or years of silence. Yet when they die, their son or daughter may still experience profound grief.
This can be deeply confusing. People often ask themselves, Why am I grieving someone who caused me so much pain?
The answer is often that they are mourning more than the person who has died.
They are mourning the parent they spent their lives hoping they might one day have.
Why Some Bereavements Feel So Complicated
Our first relationships shape us in ways that continue long into adulthood. Even when we distance ourselves from a parent or end contact altogether, a part of us often continues to hope.
Perhaps one day they will recover.
Perhaps they will apologise.
Perhaps they will finally understand what they did.
Perhaps they will become the loving parent we always needed.
This hope can remain surprisingly alive, even after decades of disappointment.
When that parent dies, death does more than end a life. It also ends the possibility that the relationship might one day become different. The future we had quietly imagined disappears alongside the person.
As a result, grief may arrive carrying many emotions at once. Sadness may sit alongside relief. Anger may coexist with compassion. Guilt may appear simply because we do not feel as devastated as we think we should.
Rather than feeling one clear emotion, we experience many conflicting feelings at the same time.
Mourning Two Losses at Once
Many people who enter therapy after the death of a parent describe an experience that surprises them. They expected to feel sadness, but instead they find themselves overwhelmed by a confusing mixture of grief, anger, relief, guilt and longing.
One person might say that they had spent years keeping their distance from a parent whose mental illness, addiction or emotional unavailability had made childhood feel unsafe. Another may have had no contact for decades after experiences of neglect or abuse. Others may have cared for a parent despite a lifetime of disappointment. Every story is different, yet the emotional dilemma is remarkably similar.
When death finally comes, people often discover that they are grieving something much larger than the loss of the individual.
In therapy, one client expressed it in a sentence that has stayed with me:
“I think I’m mourning the father I could have had.”
This captures the heart of complex mourning.
The grief is not simply for the person who has died. It is also for the relationship that never had the opportunity to grow into something safe, dependable and loving.
People often realise they are mourning countless ordinary moments that never existed: being comforted after a difficult day, hearing words of encouragement, feeling protected, celebrating achievements together, or simply knowing that someone would be there when needed.
These are not fantasies of a perfect parent. They are the ordinary experiences every child hopes to receive.
When a parent dies, the possibility of those experiences existing in the future dies as well. It is often this loss of possibility that makes complex grief feel so profound. We are grieving not only the past we lived through, but also the future we had, perhaps unconsciously, continued to hope for.
The Loss of Hope
From a British psychoanalytic perspective, particularly the work of Winnicott, children continue to hold on to the hope that their parents will eventually become emotionally available. Hope is often what allows the attachment to survive difficult circumstances.
Children are remarkably loyal. They usually blame themselves before blaming the people they depend upon. They continue waiting for the day when things might finally feel safe.
That hope often remains quietly present throughout adult life, even when contact has ended.
The death of a parent can therefore feel like two bereavements occurring simultaneously.
The first is the obvious one: the death of the person.
The second is less visible but often more painful: the death of hope itself.
There will be no future reconciliation.
No apology.
No opportunity to ask the questions that have remained unanswered for years.
No chance to experience the relationship we always imagined might still become possible.
Many people discover that they are also grieving the childhood they never had, the protection they never received, and the memories that were never created.
These losses are every bit as real as the death itself.
There Is No Correct Way to Grieve
People often judge themselves harshly after this kind of bereavement.
“I should feel more upset.”
“I shouldn’t feel relieved.”
“Why am I crying now after all these years?”
“Why don’t I feel anything?”
There is no correct emotional response.
Complex grief rarely follows a predictable pattern because the relationship itself was never straightforward.
Relief does not mean you did not care.
Anger does not mean you cannot also feel sadness.
Compassion does not erase painful memories.
Healing begins when we allow these apparently contradictory feelings to exist together instead of trying to decide which one is the “right” emotion.
The aim is not to rewrite history or to decide whether a parent was entirely good or entirely bad. Most relationships, particularly those marked by trauma, contain many different emotional truths.
The work of mourning is to make space for all of them.
Beginning to Understand Your Own Grief
If your own grief feels confusing, you are not alone. You may be mourning not only the person who has died, but also the relationship you longed for throughout your life.
Recognising this can bring an unexpected sense of relief. It allows us to stop judging ourselves for having mixed feelings and instead become curious about what we are really grieving.
Sometimes the deepest sadness is not about losing what we had.
It is about finally accepting what we never had.
Request the Interactive Worksheet
If this article has resonated with you, you may find it helpful to work through the accompanying interactive worksheet, Understanding Complex Mourning.
The worksheet has been designed to gently guide you through the different layers of complex grief. Rather than encouraging quick answers, it invites you to reflect on the relationship you had, the relationship you wished you could have had, and the many emotions that can exist together after the death of a parent or other significant person. It also includes reflective writing exercises to help you recognise the hopes, disappointments and unanswered questions that may still be present.
To receive the worksheet, simply complete the request form below with your name and email address. If you would like, you are also welcome to leave a brief comment about what prompted your interest or the challenges you are currently facing.
Once I receive your request, I will email you a link to access the interactive worksheet.
If these reflections feel overwhelming, remember that you do not have to make sense of them alone. Therapy can provide a safe and compassionate space in which the complexity of grief can gradually be understood and carried.
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Photo credit: Nuts Sorokina / Pexels
Audio narration produced using ElevenLabs voice technology.