Dear You,
I know the feeling you don’t always say out loud.
It shows up when you scroll.When someone announces something new.When another milestone passes and you quietly think, How is everyone else so far ahead?
It feels like the world kept moving while you were busy surviving.
People are building, expanding, celebrating, making plans—And you’re still learning how to carry what you lost without it knocking the wind out of you.
You start measuring yourself in subtle ways.Energy. Joy. Progress. Capacity.
And somewhere in there, a story forms:I’m behind.I should be further along by now.Something must be wrong with me.
I want to interrupt that story.
Because grief doesn’t just change what you feel—it changes how time works.
While others were stacking achievements, you were relearning how to breathe.While others were planning years ahead, you were getting through days.While others were moving fast, you were moving deep.
That is not falling behind.That is moving through something that demanded your full attention.
Grief doesn’t follow the same clock as the rest of the world.
It stretches time.It collapses it.It turns months into moments and moments into lifetimes.
So of course your pace looks different now.
You didn’t pause your life—you lived it in a way that required slowness, presence, and endurance.
And that kind of living doesn’t show up well on timelines or highlight reels.
I know it’s tempting to believe that healing should look like catching up.Like regaining speed.Like proving you’re “back on track.”
But here’s the truth:There was never one track to begin with.
You’re not late to your life.You’re not missing some invisible deadline.And you don’t need to hurry your healing to make anyone else comfortable.
You are exactly where someone who has loved and lost deeply would be.
Your life didn’t stall—it widened.
You see things now.You question things now.You move with intention instead of urgency.
And yes—sometimes that means it looks like you’re standing still while everyone else runs ahead.
But depth always changes pace.
I want you to stop asking, “Why am I so far behind?”And start asking, “What have I been carrying that others haven’t?”
Because you didn’t lose momentum.You gained perspective.
And perspective takes time to integrate.
One day, without realizing it, you’ll notice something else:You’re not actually trying to catch up anymore.
You’re choosing what matters.You’re moving toward what feels aligned.You’re building a life that fits who you are now—not who you were before loss.
And that kind of life isn’t rushed.
So if today you feel behind—Let that feeling soften into something truer.
You are not behind.You are not late.You are not failing at life.
You are moving at the speed of meaning.
And meaning is never in a hurry.
With you, exactly where you are,Angie
