Have you ever felt a deep sense of loss, but couldn’t quite put your finger on what exactly was lost, or even if it was lost at all? That’s the essence of something called ambiguous loss. It’s a term that can sound clinical, but it’s really just a way to describe those confusing, murky feelings that come up when someone important to us is either here but not really here, or gone, but still very much present in our minds and hearts.
This concept was introduced by Dr. Pauline Boss back in the 1970s, and it came out of her work with families of missing soldiers. But since then, the idea has expanded to include so many everyday experiences, things we often don't talk about as “loss,” but that still carry a heavy emotional weight.
What Is Ambiguous Loss?
Ambiguous loss shows up in two main ways:
- Someone is physically present, but emotionally or psychologically absent. Think of a parent struggling with addiction, a partner with dementia, or someone lost in depression or trauma.
- Someone is physically gone, but psychologically very present. Maybe it’s a loved one who moved away, a parent who left the family, or a relationship that ended without a clear goodbye.
In both of these cases, the loss is unclear. There's no funeral, no closure, and often, no shared community acknowledgement of what’s been lost. That makes it incredibly difficult to grieve and move forward.
How It Shows Up in Children and Youth
Children, especially, can be deeply impacted by ambiguous loss. Maybe their parent is around, but unavailable emotionally. Maybe someone important left suddenly, and no one really explained why, or they did, but it didn’t make sense. Kids might feel torn between wanting to hold on and needing to let go.
They may not have the words for it, but it often shows up in behaviours: withdrawal, anxiety, anger, trouble sleeping, difficulty concentrating, or even feeling "numb" or stuck. Sometimes, these responses are misunderstood or mislabelled when they’re actually normal reactions to a loss that hasn’t been fully seen or named.
Grief isn’t always about death. Kids grieve the loss of connection, identity, home, friends, pets, routines, even a sense of safety. When those losses aren’t acknowledged, it can leave them feeling isolated, confused, or like their pain doesn’t count.
The “Psychological Family”
One of the things Dr. Boss talks about is the idea of a “psychological family.” This is the version of family we hold in our hearts and minds, whether or not it matches our current reality. Kids and adults alike often keep emotional ties to people who are no longer physically present. That’s not a bad thing; it can actually be a way to cope and stay connected. But it can also create stress, especially if what we’re holding on to doesn’t align with the life we’re living now.
Why This Matters
Ambiguous loss can leave us feeling like we’re stuck in a waiting room, searching for answers, hoping for closure, and wondering what’s next. Without the opportunity to talk about it or name it, the grief just sits there. It might not look like grief from the outside, but it weighs just as heavily.
This kind of loss can affect self-worth, relationships, identity, and even how kids see the world. It shapes the way they respond to future challenges, how they trust others, and whether they feel like they “belong” anywhere.
And the hard truth? Most of us, kids and adults, don’t get taught how to grieve this kind of loss. It’s quiet. It’s invisible. It’s “disenfranchised,” meaning it often doesn’t get recognized or supported by the people around us.
What We Can Do
As parents, caregivers, educators, or community members, we can start by simply making space for these kinds of losses to be acknowledged. We can:
- Name the loss: Even if we don’t have all the answers, we can gently say what’s missing.
- Validate the feelings: “It makes sense that you’re feeling this way.”
- Offer comfort without needing to fix it: Sometimes just sitting beside a child in their grief is the most powerful thing we can do.
For kids and adults, carrying ambiguous loss, healing doesn’t come from “moving on.” It comes from feeling seen, heard, and supported as they carry what’s been lost and what remains.
At Wabi Sabi Wellness, I work with children, youth, and adults who are navigating the messy, in-between spaces of life, grief that’s unclear, complicated relationships, and identities that are still unfolding. If this resonates with your experience, or the experience of someone you care about, you’re not alone.
There’s nothing wrong with feeling stuck. There’s nothing wrong with feeling lost. Together, we can hold space for what’s hard to name, and begin to make sense of it, one gentle step at a time.
Jill Havelock
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