The Hidden Grief of Giving Up the Life You Thought You’d Have

Both roads have flowers

No one talks about this kind of grief.

There’s no funeral, no casserole deliveries, no “thinking of you” texts. Just you, quietly mourning a version of your life that never happened.

The life you were supposed to have. The one you built in your head. The one that got away before it ever arrived.

Maybe it was the job that never took off.
The marriage that ended.
The dream that stalled.
The timeline that never made it past the Pinterest board.

This kind of grief is sneaky. It doesn’t show up with sobs and tissues — it shows up as irritability, numbness, burnout. It shows up when you see old classmates on LinkedIn “crushing it,” or when you realize you're not where you thought you’d be by 30, 40, 50. It sneaks in on birthdays and quiet Friday nights. Sometimes it just feels like a vague sense of failure, even if you can’t name exactly what went wrong.

And because this grief doesn’t get much airtime, a lot of us assume we’re the only ones feeling it. Like maybe everyone else has it figured out, and we’re just bad at life planning. But the truth? Almost everyone carries some version of this.

It’s the teacher who thought she’d be a writer.
The man who thought he’d be a dad by now.
The person who left the relationship that was supposed to be forever.
The one who’s still waiting for their big break, their person, their peace.

So what do you do with this kind of grief?

1. Name it.

That gut-level disappointment you feel? It’s not failure. It’s grief. Specifically, ambiguous loss — grieving something that doesn’t have a clear ending or marker. Giving it a name doesn’t make it go away, but it makes it easier to hold. You stop gaslighting yourself into thinking you’re just being dramatic.

2. Talk about it.

This grief thrives in silence. So speak it out loud — with a therapist, a journal, or a friend who gets it. You don’t have to have a dramatic story or a perfect explanation. Sometimes it’s just: “I thought my life would look different by now.” That alone is powerful.

3. Validate the dream.

What you hoped for mattered. It’s okay to mourn it. Letting go of the dream doesn’t mean it was foolish or pointless. It just means you're human. You’re allowed to feel proud of who you are now and heartbroken for what didn’t happen.

4. Check your “shoulds.”

Grief often gets tangled up with shame — I should be further along, I should have known better, I should have made different choices. Be gentle here. Most of us are doing the best we can with what we had. “Should” is rarely helpful. Try swapping it with curiosity: What do I want now? What still matters to me?

5. Look for what still feels alive.

Even in loss, some things remain. New possibilities, small joys, values that still guide you. The life you imagined might be gone, but you're still here. Your story’s not over. Get curious about what still feels meaningful — not in a pressure-y, “find your purpose” way, but in a quiet, “what feels true today?” kind of way.

6. Let your story evolve.

You’re allowed to change your mind. To want different things. To make peace with Plan B (or Plan G). Sometimes the life you thought you wanted doesn’t match the person you’ve become. That’s not failure — that’s growth.

Grief doesn’t have a timeline. It might linger, come in waves, or resurface unexpectedly. But healing happens when you stop pretending it’s not there — and start building something new with what’s left.

You may not have the life you pictured, but you still get to create one that feels real. One that fits. One that’s yours.

Take the First Step

It’s hard to reach out, I get it… But you know what is even harder than reaching out? Staying the same.

So take a chance and schedule an appointment- let’s work together to make your goals a reality.