Grief for the Life You Thought You’d Have
By Greg Shaw | Companion to Episode 57 of The Support & Kindness Podcast
Did you think life would look different by now?
Maybe you expected to have a partner beside you. A job you enjoyed. More time with your children. A body that let you do the things you loved. Perhaps you thought you would feel settled by this point.
Then something changed. Or lots of things changed, slowly enough that you didn’t notice how far you had moved from the life you imagined.
In Episode 57, Rich, Liam, Sarah, and I talk about that gap. This was a deeply personal conversation. We talked about brain injury, disability, music, family, money, regret, and people we miss. There was laughter too. Sometimes we needed it.
Listen to Episode 57: Grief for the Life You Thought You’d Have.
Can you grieve a life you never had?
You can miss something that never had the chance to happen.
The family you hoped to build. The work you trained for. The retirement you saved for. The years you thought you would spend with someone.
For someone who wanted children, this may mean facing a life without them. For someone who has always lived with a disability, there may be no earlier healthy life to return to. They can still miss possibilities they hoped would be open to them.
There may be no funeral or clear date to mark. Other people may not know what you have lost. That can make it hard to explain why you are hurting.
The NHS includes relationship, job, and home loss in its guidance on grief. Researchers have also examined grief after divorce and unemployment. A 2020 study of 372 people found grief responses among people facing different kinds of loss. It was an online survey, so it cannot tell us how everyone will feel or how feelings change over time.
You don’t have to use the word grief if it doesn’t fit. You can simply say, “This has been hard, and I need some support.”
When the life you believed you had changes too
There is another kind of shock we discussed.
You learn something that changes how you see your past. Perhaps a relationship was not as honest as you believed. The savings you thought were there are gone. A family story turns out to be incomplete.
Now you are trying to understand old memories with new information. You may be grieving the future you planned while questioning what came before it.
That can leave you feeling unsteady. Give yourself room to work out what you know and what you need. You don’t have to decide everything today. Someone else’s deception or abuse is their responsibility.
Losing a role can affect your sense of self
Rich talked about coaching. It gave him a way to help young people and use his gifts. Losing the ability to do that meant losing an important part of his life.
Liam spoke about the future he had pictured in music. Sarah described the uncertainty she faced after her spinal cord injury. I talked about the painful distance between the life we hope for and the circumstances we find ourselves in.
A role can hold so much: friends, routine, income, pride, purpose. When it changes, several losses may arrive together.
Research on invisible illness gives this some language. In a study of 60 written responses, people described missing former abilities and relationships, along with future family or career possibilities. This was a small study of experiences, not a measure of how common those feelings are.
One useful question is: what mattered to me about that role? Teaching? Creating? Helping? Being part of something?
The answer may help you find something worth keeping. It doesn’t mean the old loss stops hurting.
Gratitude and grief can share the same day
Rich shared how his wife made room for his brother’s memory as they planned their wedding. Small gestures helped him feel that he could build a life with her and still miss his brother.
That stayed with me.
You can love your children and miss time alone. You can be glad you left a difficult situation and still mourn what you hoped it would become. You can enjoy a good afternoon and have a hard evening.
Parents need room to speak honestly too. In APA’s 2023 survey, 48% of parents with children under 18 reported overwhelming stress on most days, compared with 26% of other adults. That measures stress. It does not tell us whether someone loves their children or regrets becoming a parent.
Instead of arguing with someone’s feelings, we can ask what would make their week more manageable.
Money and small routines belong in this conversation
When money changes your plans, you can lose more than the money itself. You may lose choices, privacy, a familiar home, or the feeling that you can manage what comes next.
The Federal Reserve’s 2025 survey, published in May 2026, found that 12% of U.S. adults said they could not cover a hypothetical $400 emergency by any means. A kind conversation matters. So does practical help with a bill, a form, transport, or a meal.
Rich also talked about missing the small moments with his neighbors while he was away caring for a family member. Sarah reminded us how much familiar comforts can matter during a hospital stay or a change of routine.
Something does not have to look important to an outsider to matter to the person who misses it.
Regret does not mean you must keep punishing yourself
This part of our conversation was especially honest.
Several of us spoke about choices we regret. Taking responsibility can be painful. There may be something to stop, a habit to change, or harm to repair.
But calling yourself names every day is not the same as making things right.
In research by Juliana G. Breines and Serena Chen, people encouraged to respond to a wrongdoing with self-compassion reported more motivation to make amends. That experiment measured motivation, not lasting changes in behavior. Still, it gives us a reason to question the idea that constant self-criticism is necessary for change.
We also make choices with limited money, incomplete information, or few safe options. A hard outcome does not always mean we made a careless choice.
Try asking: what can I take responsibility for now? What help would make that possible?
Repair also means respecting boundaries. If someone has asked for no contact, an apology does not give us permission to ignore that request. Advice from a qualified professional may help us find a safer next step.
What helps when the loss is still unfolding?
Rich and Liam talked about dementia, family relationships, and the pain of watching someone change. It is hard to find your footing when each day brings something new.
Pauline Boss’s work on ambiguous loss offers a way to understand losses where absence, presence, or the facts remain unclear. It is not a label for every disappointment. It may help some people put words to a loss that has no tidy ending.
You don’t need to reach a particular stage before asking for help. The NHS explains that grief does not follow one fixed order. People may not experience every named stage.
A trusted person, peer group, or qualified professional can support you while you are still working out what you feel. NIMH has information about depression and seeking care if persistent low mood or other symptoms are making everyday life difficult.
Kindo’s Kindness Challenge: What Changed, What I Need
This week’s challenge has two paths. Choose the one that fits.
If you are going through a change, finish these sentences:
- What I miss is…
- What would help me this week is…
Write your answers, record a voice note, tell someone you trust, or keep them private. Choose something small enough for the week you are having.
Maybe you need someone to listen without giving advice. Help with a phone call. A quieter evening. A little time for something you miss. If a mistake needs attention, your next step might be advice about a safe, respectful repair. Don’t use the challenge to contact someone who has asked for space.
If you are supporting someone, ask:
“What part of this has been the hardest for other people to understand?”
Then listen. You don’t need a matching story or an explanation for why it happened.
If you can help, offer something specific. “Would dinner on Thursday help?” “Would you like company while you make that call?” Only offer what you can follow through on, and leave room for no.
No public post is needed. This can stay between you and the person you are helping.
The poem and TED talks promised in the episode
The poem I called “The Mask” is Please Hear What I’m Not Saying, by Charles C. Finn. The author’s page has the full poem about the feelings hidden behind the faces we show other people.
These talks offer further perspectives:
- Nora McInerny: We don’t “move on” from grief. We move forward with it. A personal talk about bereavement and continuing to live with loss.
- Kathryn Schulz: Don’t regret regret. Thoughts on living with imperfect choices.
- Alexandra Sacks: A new way to think about the transition to motherhood. A look at changing identity and mixed feelings in new motherhood.
These are discussion resources, not a diagnosis or a substitute for care.
A place to start
You don’t have to compare your loss with someone else’s before asking for support.
Listen to Episode 57, or find our free online peer support groups. The group calendar has current dates and times. If basic tasks have become hard too, Episode 56, When You Can’t Make Yourself Do Basic Things, may be another helpful conversation.
If you need support now in the U.S. or its territories, call or text 988, or visit 988lifeline.org. You don’t have to be suicidal to reach out. Elsewhere, Find A Helpline lets you search by country. For disaster-related distress in the U.S., call or text 1-800-985-5990, the Disaster Distress Helpline. If there is immediate danger, call your local emergency number.
This article and our podcast share peer experience and general information. They do not replace therapy, medical care, or crisis services.
You deserve some kindness today.
