The 6th Stage of Grief That No One Talks About: Hope

The 6th Stage of Grief That No One Talks About: Hope is often overlooked when we discuss the process of healing. Understanding the stages of grief is crucial for healing. You’ve probably heard about the five stages of grief, denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance.

These stages, introduced by Elisabeth Kübler-Ross, were originally meant to describe the emotional journey of people facing terminal illness, but over time they’ve become a framework to understand how we grieve any kind of loss, a relationship, a dream, a part of ourselves.

Each stage holds a psychological function, helping us process overwhelming emotions and find our way through darkness. But today, I want to talk about a sixth stage that I deeply believe is just as essential: hope.

Let’s walk through each stage and see what it offers us, and then I’ll show you why hope is the quiet force that carries us home.

Hope and Its Essential Role in Emotional Healing

From a psychological and scientific perspective, hope is not a naïve emotion or a denial of pain, it is a measurable protective factor in the grieving process. Research in positive psychology, particularly the work of psychologist Charles R. Snyder, defines hope as a cognitive process composed of two elements: agency (the belief that we can move forward) and pathways (the ability to imagine possible routes toward a meaningful future).

Studies consistently show that individuals who maintain a sense of hope during grief demonstrate greater emotional regulation, lower levels of prolonged distress, and improved resilience over time. Neurobiologically, hope activates regions of the brain associated with motivation and reward, such as the prefrontal cortex, helping counterbalance the heightened threat response of the amygdala that dominates during loss. This does not erase grief; instead, it allows grief to coexist with meaning.

Clinical research on bereavement and trauma also highlights that hope supports meaning-making, a core mechanism of healing identified in contemporary grief models beyond Kübler-Ross, such as the Dual Process Model and post-traumatic growth theory. These frameworks suggest that healing involves oscillating between loss-oriented emotions and restoration-oriented behaviors, hope is what enables that movement.

Importantly, hope often emerges quietly and gradually, not as optimism, but as a subtle willingness to stay engaged with life despite pain. It may show up as imagining a future self, reconnecting with purpose, or trusting that one’s internal resources are sufficient to survive what has been lost. In this sense, hope is not the end of grief, it is the bridge between suffering and integration. When hope is present, the nervous system begins to downregulate chronic stress responses, allowing emotional processing rather than emotional overwhelm.

This is why hope is increasingly recognized in clinical psychology not as an optional mindset, but as a fundamental component of emotional recovery.

Grief can leave you feeling lost inside your own life, carrying emotions that are hard to explain and even harder to process alone. But even in the middle of pain, there can still be space for understanding, inner support, and hope. NURA was created to help you navigate those deeper emotions with clarity and compassion, so you can move through your healing journey feeling more held, more aware, and less alone.

1. Denial

Denial is not about ignorance. It’s a psychological defense. When we’re hit with a loss, whether sudden or expected, our nervous system protects us by numbing the pain. Denial gives us space. It says: “Not all at once. Let me breathe first.”

Psychologically, denial buffers the shock so we can continue functioning. It’s not weakness. It’s wisdom. It’s our brain giving us time to build emotional scaffolding.


2. Anger

Anger is often misunderstood. It’s not just rage, it’s pain trying to find a target. Anger emerges when our sense of justice is violated. Psychologists see anger as a way to regain a sense of control. When everything feels chaotic, anger gives us a direction.

It’s okay to be mad at what happened. It’s okay to feel like the world is unfair. Because sometimes, it is.


3. Bargaining

“If only I had…”
“What if I just…”

Bargaining is where we try to rewrite the past. It’s where guilt can sneak in, where we look for deals, for loopholes, for a different ending. Psychologically, bargaining is the mind’s way of trying to prevent further pain. It’s a form of resistance that says: “I’m not ready to accept this yet.”


4. Depression

This stage is not about clinical depression, but rather a natural drop in energy and motivation after realizing the finality of a loss. It’s the quiet heaviness. The stillness after the storm.

Psychologists note that this phase is when reality begins to truly set in. It’s when our brain begins to integrate the truth of what happened. It’s not something to fix, it’s something to sit with.


5. Acceptance

Acceptance doesn’t mean you’re okay with what happened. It means you’re beginning to make peace with it. Acceptance is the stage where we begin to reorganize life around the absence of what was lost.

We start to move, to feel the sun again, to breathe a little deeper.

But here’s where I feel something’s missing.


6. Hope

To me, hope is the unspoken sixth stage. It’s what gives us the strength to rise from the ground and say:

“Maybe tomorrow will be lighter.”
“Maybe something beautiful is still waiting for me.”
“Maybe there’s more life ahead.”

Hope isn’t the absence of grief. It’s the thread we follow through it.


It’s what makes me want to wake up tomorrow with a renewed heart.
It’s the faith that there is purpose in what I’m walking through.
It’s the belief that I have everything I need inside me to face what’s coming.

Hope is not childish, it’s courageous.


It’s the quiet voice that says:
“Even if today hurts, I will try again tomorrow.”

So if you’re somewhere in the middle of grief, whatever form it takes for you, I want you to know this:

You’re allowed to feel it all. You’re allowed to move slowly.
But also, you’re allowed to hope.

Let this be your reminder that healing is not linear, and you don’t have to rush.

But when you’re ready…
Hope will be waiting.

And maybe, just maybe, this is the push you needed to move toward your light, to finally learn how to understand and manage your emotions instead of letting them control your body.

With love, Ana

https://www.health.harvard.edu/blog/hope-why-it-matters-202107162547