The Version of Me I Had to Grieve

Nobody talks enough about the grief that comes with becoming someone new.

There’s a strange kind of grief that happens during personal growth that nobody prepares you for.

Not grief from death.
Not grief from heartbreak.
Not even grief from failure.

I’m talking about grieving versions of yourself that no longer fit.

And honestly?
That kind of grief can sneak up on you in the middle of completely ordinary moments.

Sometimes it hits when you look at old pictures and barely recognize the woman smiling back at you.

Sometimes it shows up when you realize the dreams you once had don’t even fit your life anymore.

And sometimes it happens when you wake up one day and realize:
the person you used to be cannot carry you where you’re trying to go.

That realization can feel both empowering and heartbreaking at the same time.

Because growth is beautiful…
but it also costs something.

It costs familiarity and identities we spent years building.

And for women especially, identity shifts happen constantly.

Motherhood changes you.
Loss changes you.
Career pivots change you.
Trauma changes you.
Success changes you.
Burnout changes you.

You don’t walk through major life events unchanged.
You just don’t.

But I think a lot of us fight that reality because we desperately want to hold onto who we used to be.

Sometimes because we miss her, she felt safer and because people around us only know how to relate to the old version.

That part?
That part is incredibly lonely.

Because not everybody will understand your evolution.

Some people benefited from the smaller version of you.
The quieter version.
The more available version.
The version that tolerated things you no longer tolerate.

And when you start changing, it can make other people uncomfortable.

Not because you’re doing something wrong,
but because transformation disrupts familiar dynamics.

I’ve had seasons of my life where I felt completely disconnected from myself.

I didn’t know who I was outside of survival mode.

I was taking care of everyone else, trying to hold together responsibilities, trying to build a future, trying to be strong all the time… and somewhere in the middle of all of it, I stopped recognizing myself.

Not in a dramatic movie-scene kind of way.

In a quiet way.

The kind where you realize you haven’t asked yourself what you need in a very long time.

And rebuilding from there is hard.

Because now you’re not just chasing goals.
You’re trying to reconnect with yourself too.

A Real-Life Reflection Opportunity

Insert personal story here:

• A moment where you realized you had outgrown an old identity

• A season where motherhood/business/life forced you to change

• A relationship, job, or mindset you had to let go of

• A “rock bottom” or “wake up” moment

• A time where you realized survival mode was no longer sustainable

Possible prompts:

• “I remember sitting in…”

• “The moment I realized things had to change was…”

• “I kept pretending I was okay until…”

• “I outgrew the version of me that believed…”

One of the hardest parts of growth is accepting that healing and reinvention rarely happen all at once.

It happens in layers.

You start setting boundaries differently.
Thinking differently.
Reacting differently.
Dreaming differently.

At first it feels uncomfortable.

Then eventually you realize:
you’re not losing yourself.

You’re meeting yourself.

Maybe for the first time.

And I think that’s what so many women are actually craving.

Not perfection.
Not hustle culture.
Not some curated version of “having it all together.”

They want permission to become.

To evolve.
To change their minds.
To outgrow old stories.
To stop apologizing for wanting more from life.

Because the truth is:
you are not required to stay the same person just because other people are comfortable with that version of you.

You are allowed to rebuild.

You are allowed to become softer.
Stronger.
More honest.
More ambitious.
More peaceful.
More protective of your energy.

You are allowed to become someone your younger self would barely recognize.

And yes, sometimes that process comes with grief.

But grief is not always a sign you’re going backward.

Sometimes it’s proof you’re finally moving forward.

Final Thoughts

If you’re in a season where everything feels uncertain and you barely recognize the person you’re becoming, I need you to know something:

Transformation often feels disorienting before it feels empowering.

That doesn’t mean you’re broken.
It means you’re growing.

And maybe the old version of you wasn’t meant to disappear completely.

Maybe she got you here.

But maybe she was never meant to carry you the rest of the way.

For the women rebuilding themselves while reheating coffee for the fourth time — I see you. Keep going.
— Kat Jalbert
Founder of The R.O.A.R. Collaborative