The Grief of Who We Could Have Been

The mourning that hits after healing begins.

There’s a peculiar kind of grief no one warns you about.

Not the grief of what happened to you.
Not the grief of what you lost.
Not even the grief of who hurt you or who you had to leave behind to survive.

I’m talking about the grief that comes after the healing starts.
After you’re no longer in crisis.
After your nervous system finally exhale-unclenches, after the therapy appointments begin connecting dots you spent years trying to erase.

It’s the grief of who you could have been if someone had loved you better.
If you had been safe sooner.
If you had been believed.
If adulthood hadn’t required so much undoing of the stories you were handed like heirlooms.

It’s the mourning of the unlived life.

No one prepares you for that one.