There’s a version of you that maybe only you remember—the one who had energy late into the evening, who said yes without hesitation, who could plan weeks ahead without factoring in pain, fatigue, or flares. That version of you didn’t feel fragile or limited. They didn’t have to think about accessibility or energy trade-offs. You miss that person.
When you live with chronic illness, you often grieve that earlier self deeply, even if no one else sees the loss. It’s a silent, private grief. It can feel like something in you disappeared overnight and no one even noticed.
And here’s the hard truth: you’re probably not going back to who you were.
But what if the goal isn’t to go back? What if the goal is to meet yourself here?
We often equate change with failure. If we can’t do what we used to, we think we’re falling short. But in reality, you’re adapting. You’re evolving. You’re navigating a life that asks more of you than it once did—and that is a powerful kind of resilience.
Think of a tree that has been struck by lightning. It doesn’t grow in the same way after the damage, but it still grows. Its shape changes, its bark thickens, its roots reach deeper. It becomes something else—scarred, but still strong. Still standing.
That’s what becoming looks like in illness. It’s not shiny or glamorous, but it is meaningful. It’s the slow, steady work of redefining yourself on new terms.
Let yourself grieve. Let yourself be angry. But also, let yourself be curious.
Who are you now, really? What matters more to you today than it did before your diagnosis? What boundaries do you hold more firmly? What truths do you carry more closely?
You might be more compassionate, more attuned, more creative with your energy. You might love more fiercely because you know how finite time can be. You might hold space for others in a way only someone who has been through it can.
Becoming isn’t failure—it’s transformation. And transformation always begins with loss. You’re not broken; you’re becoming. And that version of you, the one shaped by pain and perseverance, deserves your kindness—not your contempt.
You’re not who you used to be. And that’s okay.
If this post resonates, I invite you to spend time with my free journaling companion: Embracing Who You’re Becoming. It’s designed to help you name and honor the parts of you that have changed—and to begin embracing the version of you that’s emerging. Because even now, your life is worth living. Your story is worth telling. And your becoming is worth celebrating.
And if you’re looking for ongoing support, the Navigating Grief with Heart and Hope video series of Grief.TV is here for you—one breath, one reflection, one note at a time.
Until then—
With Heart and Hope,
Valerie
