Grieving the Old You (While Trying to Find the New One)

Because midlife is more than a crisis — it’s a crossroads

There’s a grief we don’t talk about enough.

Not the kind that comes from losing someone else — but the kind that comes from losing versions of yourself.

If you know, you know.

It’s not a quarter-life crisis, where you’re trying to find yourself.

It’s not a midlife cliché where you buy a red convertible and run off in search of a “new you.”

It’s something deeper.

More sacred.

More complicated.

It’s looking in the mirror and realizing:

I know exactly who I am — and I’m grieving who I used to be.

The Mirror, the Memories, and the What-Ifs

These days, I know my boundaries.

I know I’m not here for drama.

I know I don’t care (mostly) what other people think, and guilt trips to go to happy hour won’t work on me after a long day at work.

I know my non-negotiables. I know my worth.

But sometimes?

I miss the old me.

The one who dreamed with no deadlines.

The one who moved fast, laughed hard, and had no idea how heavy life would get.

I look back at the younger version of myself — and I don’t just see her, I grieve her.

And if I’m keeping it 100? I sometimes blame her too.

For what she didn’t know.

For the choices she made.

For what she didn’t finish.

For who she let hurt her.

And then I catch myself holding this current version of me hostage — chained to regrets, stuck in invisible handcuffs of insecurity.

Yes, You Can Grieve the Life You Didn’t Live

Turns out, this feeling is more common than we think.

According to research in the Journal of Women & Aging, many women in their 40s and 50s experience a period of intense self-reflection and “narrative identity reconstruction.”

In non-academic terms?

We start looking back — and reevaluating everything.

Marriage.

Career.

Choices.

Children or no children.

Friendships.

Our bodies.

Our timelines.

The grief doesn’t always come from something tragic.

Sometimes it comes from the could’ve beens.

The “what if I had…”

The “why didn’t I…”

The “will I ever…”

And yes — that grief is real.

It’s called disenfranchised grief — a type of mourning that isn’t always acknowledged but sits heavy in our hearts.

So What Do We Do With This Kind of Grief?

We don’t run from it.

We meet it.

We let it sit next to us on the couch.

We listen to what it’s trying to teach us.

We offer it compassion — then gently remind it that while the past shaped us, it doesn’t define us.

Here’s what I’m learning:

1. You Can Mourn and Move Forward at the Same Time

Grief and hope can share space.

You can be sad for what wasn’t and still excited for what’s next.

2. Forgive Your Younger Self

She was doing the best she could with what she had — and what she didn’t know.

You don’t owe her shame. You owe her grace.

3. Redefine What “Enough” Means

Maybe you didn’t start your career until you were older.

Maybe it’s marriage number two.

Maybe you zigzagged your way through life.

So what?

You’re here.

Still growing. Still blooming. Still building a life that matters.

4. Practice Presence, Not Pressure

There’s a quote I love by Lao Tzu:

“If you are depressed, you are living in the past.

If you are anxious, you are living in the future.

If you are at peace, you are living in the present.”

The challenge is choosing peace — again and again.

Letting the past visit, but not move in.

Letting the future inspire, but not overwhelm.

Rooting yourself in right now.

Midlife Isn’t a Crisis. It’s a Homecoming.

I used to think this phase of life would feel like a decline.

But it’s actually a return.

I have wisdom now.

I have clarity.

I have patience I didn’t have in my 20s, and the confidence I only pretended to have in my 30s.

So if you’re grieving the old you while trying to embrace the new you — I see you.

And I want you to know:

This middle part?

It’s the magic.

It’s where you get to create a life that your older self will look back on with a warm smile — not sadness.

Final Thought: You’re Not Behind. You’re Becoming.

Your past shaped you, but it doesn’t get to shame you.

You are allowed to grieve.

You are allowed to grow.

And you are absolutely allowed to start over — as many times as you need to.

Midlife is not the end of your story.

It’s the chapter where you stop asking permission to live it fully.

So here’s to the old you — thank her.

Here’s to the new you — welcome her.

And here’s to the you you’re still becoming — she’s worth the wait.

With love + light + a little sass,

~April

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