Navigating Longer Days of Summer

Summer is loud. Long days, weddings, celebrations, gatherings everywhere. And if you're grieving, that brightness can feel like a spotlight on everything you're missing.

Weddings are the worst. Everyone's happy. Everyone's celebrating. And you're sitting there remembering your own wedding, or the wedding you'll never have, or just the fact that the person you wanted to be there isn't.

Here's the thing: you can feel both things at once. You can be genuinely happy for the couple and devastated that your person isn't there to see it.

Before You Go

Don't just show up and hope for the best. That's how you end up in a bathroom stall at 7 p.m. crying into your phone.

Think about it first. What are your triggers? Is it the vows? The first dance? The toasts? Knowing what's going to hit you hardest means you can prepare.

Tell someone you trust. Not the bride. Not the groom. But a friend who gets it. Someone you can text if you need to step outside. Someone who won't make you feel guilty for struggling.

Set a boundary. How long do you actually need to stay? An hour? Two hours? You don't have to be there for the whole thing. You don't have to dance. You don't have to smile through the bouquet toss.

Have an Exit Plan

This is not dramatic. This is self-preservation.

Know where the bathroom is. Know where the exit is. Have a phrase ready: "I need some air." "I'm going to take a call." "I need a minute." Practice it so it doesn't feel awkward when you need to use it.

And then actually leave when you need to. Go sit in your car. Go for a walk. Go splash water on your face. Do whatever you need to do to regulate yourself.

Carry Them With You

If it helps, bring something. A piece of jewelry. A photo in your phone. A small token that reminds you they're still part of your story.

Some people light a candle at home before the event. Some people write a note. Some people just take a moment to say their name out loud.

Whatever grounds you, do that.

Find the Small Joys

You're going to be there. So find something to anchor yourself to that isn't the couple getting married.

The cake. The flowers. A conversation with an old friend. The way the light hits the venue at sunset. The specific cocktail they're serving. Notice these things. Let them matter.

This isn't about pretending you're fine. It's about giving your brain something else to focus on besides what you're missing.

Talk to People

Isolation at a wedding is brutal. It amplifies everything.

Find someone—anyone—who might understand. Or just find someone you actually like and have a real conversation. Laugh. Be present. Connection is the antidote to loneliness, even at a celebration that's making you sad.

After You Leave

Don't just go home and spiral. Do something kind for yourself.

Journal about it. Call someone. Take a bath. Watch something that makes you laugh. Acknowledge that you did a hard thing and you survived it.

And remember: you can feel joy for the couple and grief for your loss. Both are real. Both matter.

The Bottom Line

Summer celebrations don't stop because you're grieving. But you get to decide how you show up for them. You get to protect yourself. You get to honor your loss while still being present for the people you love.

That's not selfish. That's wisdom.