The person vs possibility thing you named is the part that stuck with me. I think the reason the frozen version feels so much more real than any actual path forward right now is that she never had to survive being practiced. Twenty-year-old Katie in Japan never had an awkward first month, never had to be bad at the language before getting okay at it. She just gets to stay perfect because she never became real. Doesn't mean the grief isn't real. Just means you're not actually competing with her, you're competing with an idea that never had to earn anything.
WOW, 😭 I think you've just given me language for something I've been carrying around for years...it also hit me right in the chest. Thank you for adding to my perspective, I think -- no, I FEEL it's exactly all the above you said. Twenty-year-old Katie only ever existed in the possibility.
I found this piece incredibly emotional, and so so recognisable. I also grieve for a life my 16 year old self assumed I would have - and as Richa B says so wisely, that life is a perfect alternative because it never actually happened. I've compared myself for so long to a version of myself I wasn't brave or good enough to pursue, and it's damaged me in so many ways. I've recently tried to let go of it, but it is hard - because as you say, the fact you could potentially still do it, keeps you on that tightrope of potential. Keeps the engine revving, even when you're still not sure which way you want to drive. A really beautiful piece, thank you for sharing x
"If I had to describe it without using a single emotion word, I’d say it feels like standing at a train platform after the train has already left, knowing another one will come, and still feeling the specific weight of having missed that one."
I've never seen it described this way and I think this is such a beautiful way to put it. A lovely read!
"It cost me the ability to tell the difference between resting and failing." That line stopped me. I think many of us spend years building lives that make perfect sense from the outside, only to discover we've quietly edited parts of ourselves out along the way. Thank you for this thoughtful piece.
What a juicy read. I really do feel you. I was the 20 something that ran off after college to teach English overseas (Kenya & Vietnam). You can still grieve for that part of you that wanted to take the train. I would be curious, what does the grief have to teach you? Does it point to something that could be discovered now? Does it just need a warm hug and some validation that it matters? There is no wrong answer here, just emotions try to communicate with you. Whispering. Perhaps the grief just needs some air. After so long smothered under performance bullsh*t, it just wants to breathe and tell you what it has to say. Sending you much love ❤️
Thank you, Andi! This truly means a lot that you would ask and explore this further. I still think about it to this day, and perhaps you're right. I think it is most likely an emotion that's trying to communicate something to me, along with what Richa said above - about that possibility of the self being frozen in time.
I think, it probably has to do with the fact that that version of Katie sits so perfectly in my mind. That version never got to experience the awkwardness, the growth, or the challenges of who she could become at 20, so she's stayed there. It's like that version is frozen in possibility.
I'll think on your question for a bite more but I feel you might be right, I think it probably just needs some air because it feels like such a full-circle moment. In a way, I'm taking this year to live out the dreams I had when I was in my 20s, and it honestly feels like I'm meeting her again. I think that's another part of this that I'd love to keep exploring 🧐🥹
Thanks Katie, for always being so vulnerable. When we are shedding the old behind for the new, there’s always a period in which the old momentum can come back, especially with old thoughts and stories we are more familiar with. But as we confidently move into the new, the old always faces.
Your story is so captivating! I’m looking forward to hearing more about you in Japan!!!
Thanks for reading and sharing Melissa! this really means a lot, more than you know 🥹💕
I totally agree with you. I noticed that when we're going through periods of change, our old default behaviours and momentum always seem to circle back, since we're creatures of comfort. But as you said, embracing change and confidently moving towards the new is how we build the next version of ourselves. Thank youuuu, once I settle in, I will be writing more about it!
Yes!! It’s just that shift in consciousness. The old consciousness just wants to stay alive.. but starve it and move into the new, it won’t stick into you anymore
The person vs possibility thing you named is the part that stuck with me. I think the reason the frozen version feels so much more real than any actual path forward right now is that she never had to survive being practiced. Twenty-year-old Katie in Japan never had an awkward first month, never had to be bad at the language before getting okay at it. She just gets to stay perfect because she never became real. Doesn't mean the grief isn't real. Just means you're not actually competing with her, you're competing with an idea that never had to earn anything.
WOW, 😭 I think you've just given me language for something I've been carrying around for years...it also hit me right in the chest. Thank you for adding to my perspective, I think -- no, I FEEL it's exactly all the above you said. Twenty-year-old Katie only ever existed in the possibility.
I found this piece incredibly emotional, and so so recognisable. I also grieve for a life my 16 year old self assumed I would have - and as Richa B says so wisely, that life is a perfect alternative because it never actually happened. I've compared myself for so long to a version of myself I wasn't brave or good enough to pursue, and it's damaged me in so many ways. I've recently tried to let go of it, but it is hard - because as you say, the fact you could potentially still do it, keeps you on that tightrope of potential. Keeps the engine revving, even when you're still not sure which way you want to drive. A really beautiful piece, thank you for sharing x
"If I had to describe it without using a single emotion word, I’d say it feels like standing at a train platform after the train has already left, knowing another one will come, and still feeling the specific weight of having missed that one."
I've never seen it described this way and I think this is such a beautiful way to put it. A lovely read!
Thank youuuu 🥹 thanks for your feedback on this piece, this means a lot!
"It cost me the ability to tell the difference between resting and failing." That line stopped me. I think many of us spend years building lives that make perfect sense from the outside, only to discover we've quietly edited parts of ourselves out along the way. Thank you for this thoughtful piece.
It really lands in the core doesn't it 😭 thank you for relating and reading, truly means a lot 💕
What a juicy read. I really do feel you. I was the 20 something that ran off after college to teach English overseas (Kenya & Vietnam). You can still grieve for that part of you that wanted to take the train. I would be curious, what does the grief have to teach you? Does it point to something that could be discovered now? Does it just need a warm hug and some validation that it matters? There is no wrong answer here, just emotions try to communicate with you. Whispering. Perhaps the grief just needs some air. After so long smothered under performance bullsh*t, it just wants to breathe and tell you what it has to say. Sending you much love ❤️
Thank you, Andi! This truly means a lot that you would ask and explore this further. I still think about it to this day, and perhaps you're right. I think it is most likely an emotion that's trying to communicate something to me, along with what Richa said above - about that possibility of the self being frozen in time.
I think, it probably has to do with the fact that that version of Katie sits so perfectly in my mind. That version never got to experience the awkwardness, the growth, or the challenges of who she could become at 20, so she's stayed there. It's like that version is frozen in possibility.
I'll think on your question for a bite more but I feel you might be right, I think it probably just needs some air because it feels like such a full-circle moment. In a way, I'm taking this year to live out the dreams I had when I was in my 20s, and it honestly feels like I'm meeting her again. I think that's another part of this that I'd love to keep exploring 🧐🥹
Thanks Katie, for always being so vulnerable. When we are shedding the old behind for the new, there’s always a period in which the old momentum can come back, especially with old thoughts and stories we are more familiar with. But as we confidently move into the new, the old always faces.
Your story is so captivating! I’m looking forward to hearing more about you in Japan!!!
Thanks for reading and sharing Melissa! this really means a lot, more than you know 🥹💕
I totally agree with you. I noticed that when we're going through periods of change, our old default behaviours and momentum always seem to circle back, since we're creatures of comfort. But as you said, embracing change and confidently moving towards the new is how we build the next version of ourselves. Thank youuuu, once I settle in, I will be writing more about it!
Yes!! It’s just that shift in consciousness. The old consciousness just wants to stay alive.. but starve it and move into the new, it won’t stick into you anymore
This stayed with me: “I’m not sure if I’m grieving a person or a possibility.”
I wonder if we all carry versions of ourselves that only existed long enough to become a dream.
Thank you for putting words to something that’s so hard to describe. 🤍
Oooof. This is a great way of putting it… it often feels silly to grieve something that never was. There’s always the “what if?”