I don't know who I am anymore.
I look in the mirror and I see someone who looks like me.
Same face.
Same eyes.
But I don't recognize the person staring back.
Because the person I was before? That person died with them.
I used to be patient.
I used to be kind.
I used to laugh easily.
I used to show up for people.
Now? I'm irritable.
I snap at people who don't deserve it.
I cancel plans. I don't return texts.
I sit in silence because talking feels like too much work.
I'm not the person people knew.
I'm not even the person I knew.
Grief didn't just take them. It took me too.
People keep waiting for me to "get back to normal." To be myself again. But that person doesn't exist anymore.
That person lived in a world where they were still alive.
That person hadn't been gutted.
You can't go back to who you were when who you were was shaped by a life that included them.
You're harder now.
More closed off.
You don't trust that good things will last because you learned they don't.
You're tired in a way sleep doesn't fix.
You're angry in a way that has no target.
You're sad in a way that has no end date.
And the worst part? You don't even like this version of yourself.
It's not just them you're grieving. It's you too.
You miss the version of yourself that could be happy without guilt.
That had energy.
That had hope.
That person is gone. And you don't know if they're ever coming back.
Maybe this is just who you are now.
Someone who's been through something that changed them.
Someone harder and softer at the same time.
Someone who's surviving but not thriving.
You're not the person you were.
And you're not sure who you're becoming.
You're just somewhere in between.
Unrecognizable.
Even to yourself.
Nobody tells you that grief does this.
That it doesn't just take the person you love.
It takes the person you were too.
If these words connected with you, you’ll find many more like them in What Remains. It’s a collection of the writings I’ve shared over the years, bringing together reflections on grief, love, loss, and the connections that continue long after someone is gone.
I hope it brings you comfort, understanding, and the reminder that you’re not alone.
If you’d like to read more, you can find the book here
Available now on Amazon