Understanding the lasting impact that anniversaries of traumatic events or losses of loved ones can have, and how you can navigate painful reminders as they arise, whether it’s months, or years, down the line

There’s something about certain dates that stay etched in our hearts, reminding us of moments that changed us. Whether it’s the loss of someone we held dear, a difficult breakup, an accident, or another personal trauma, these dates often carry with them a weight that words can’t fully express.

It’s natural to feel unsettled or reflective as these anniversaries approach. But, by learning to recognise how you are feeling, and prepare in advance, you can begin to navigate these periods of time with more understanding, self-compassion, and kindness. So, here we’re exploring how to handle the ongoing aftermath of personal loss and trauma, along with ways we can both support others through tough times, and open up about our own needs, too.

Coping with the first anniversary

Knowing that the first anniversary of a significant life event is coming up can feel overwhelming. You might try to put it out of your mind until it’s almost upon you, or find your thoughts lingering, making it hard to focus on anything else. It’s important to remember that there is no right or wrong way to approach things.

“However you’re feeling is OK and valid. The first anniversary can bring a wave of emotions: grief, anxiety, anger, numbness, or even guilt for ‘moving on’,” Tina Chummun, a UKCP trauma specialist psychotherapist, says. “Give yourself permission to feel what you are without judgement. You don’t have to be ‘over it’. Grief and trauma don’t follow timelines.”

People find solace in various ways of coping. Some find it more helpful to take a break and have time alone to reflect on how they are feeling, or to remember who, or what, they’ve lost. Others prefer to be surrounded by people, comfort, or distractions.

Tina recommends creating a meaningful ritual, like visiting a place of significance, journaling, or allowing yourself to cry. “These acts aren’t about ‘closure’; they’re about acknowledging that this changed you. You’re making space for it to be a part of your present life, and that’s OK.”

Should I let others know ahead of time?

People can be unaware of how an approaching anniversary may affect you, so letting them know can be an act of self-compassion. You might not know how you’re going to feel, or worry about feeling judged for opening up. But sharing that a tough anniversary is coming up starts the conversation, and lets others know you may need support.

“The key is to be specific about what would help you. People often want to support you, but don’t know how. Giving them clear guidance, whether that’s ‘I need distraction’ or ‘I need permission to fall apart,’ helps them show up for you,” Tina says.

It’s just as important to remember that you don’t have to share this with anyone if you don’t want to. “You don’t owe anyone an explanation,” she adds. “Share with those who have earned your trust, and who can hold space for your pain, without making it about them.”


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Words of comfort

Tina shares three things to say to someone with a traumatic anniversary approaching:

. “I'm here if you want to talk, or if you just want company.”

. “There's no right way to feel. Whatever comes up for you is OK.”

. “I don’t know what to say. I am thinking of you, and I want to be there for you.”

And three things not to say, to avoid minimising their pain, or putting pressure on them to seem alright. 

. “Everything happens for a reason.” 

.“I know exactly how you feel.” 

. “You're so strong.” 

How can I prepare and protect myself from getting blindsided?

Whether your trauma was recent or a while ago, you can’t always anticipate how anniversaries will affect you, or even which dates, events, or milestones will become triggers. You might anticipate thoughts lingering around the anniversary itself, or other significant moments like birthdays, holidays, or family events. But there are other times when feelings of grief, loss, and anger can arise.

“If it happened in autumn, the first crisp day might bring it back,” Tina says. Seasonal shifts can be just one of the ways we might not anticipate our loss and trauma showing up in our minds. Sensory triggers, such as specific smells, tastes, hearing certain songs that are meaningful to us, or even visiting certain locations, can all have similar effects.

We can’t prepare for every possibility – and that’s OK. Preparing can be useful, but it can’t fully protect us, either.

“Preparing doesn’t mean you won’t feel pain,” Tina explains, “but it does mean you won’t be caught off-guard. Your awareness of your preparation can help you manage, and process, what you may feel like ahead of when you do feel it.”

Ways to offer comfort during traumatic anniversaries

Seeing someone we care for in pain, or struggling, hurts. How can we offer support and comfort, without making it about ourselves? Knowing what to say, what to do – and what not to do – can feel like an impossible task. So, how can we be there for the people we care about, without putting more pressure on them? It’s our presence, Tina says, that makes all the difference.

“The most powerful thing you can offer is presence without pressure. You don’t need to fix their pain, or fill the silences with words. Sometimes, just sitting with someone in their grief, witnessing it without trying to change it, is the most healing gift you can give.”

Being kind and patient with yourself

Some dates will always hold meaning. These anniversaries aren’t just about what happened; they’re about how you continue to carry, and care for, yourself. Some might feel heavier than others. Others pass more calmly than we expect. Each one offers a moment to pause and honour what has been lost.

It’s the quiet choices that we make that allow us to keep going, to keep breathing, remembering, and finding our way forward, piece by piece. It’s in these small, tender moments that we learn how to live alongside what’s happened, without letting it define all that’s still to come.