“I don’t want another job”: returning to work after loss

In the months after losing my husband, I was surrounded by people who wanted to help. Their intentions were kind, and I’ll always be grateful for that support.

But one suggestion took me by surprise...the idea that maybe I should leave my role and find a different job, something “easier” or more “flexible.”

On the surface, it sounded practical. But underneath, it felt impossible.

Why staying in my role mattered

The truth is, I didn’t want another job. I wanted my job.

Aside from the fact that I really enjoyed my work, the truth is, my role wasn’t just work - it was one of the few things that still connected me to before. Before the accident. Before the grief. Before my identity shifted completely.

Changing jobs at that moment wouldn’t have been just about a new workplace. It would have meant another layer of change on top of the grief, the parenting, the logistics. And that thought was overwhelming.

Even if a job change was “better” on paper, it still would have added another wave of uncertainty at a time when I desperately needed stability.

What leaders should know

If you’re supporting someone returning after loss, it’s natural to want to offer solutions. But solutions aren’t always what’s needed.

What helps more than answers is:

1. Listening, without trying to “fix.”

2. Recognising that work is often tied to identity and belonging.

3. Avoiding assumptions about what will make things easier.

4. Creating flexibility within the role they already have, rather than suggesting new ones.

Because even positive change can feel destabilising when someone is already carrying so much.

Stability matters

For me, staying in my role was part of staying myself. It gave me something to hold onto when so much else was unraveling. And I am so thankful to my leader and organisation for providing that for me.

Grief already turns someone’s world upside down. Adding more change, even well-intentioned change, can make the load heavier, not lighter.

Sometimes the most supportive thing you can do is help someone hold onto what’s familiar, while giving them the flexibility to carry it differently.