Last updated on July 30th, 2025 at 01:49 am
When the Life You Imagined Dies: Grieving a Future That Will Never Come
This post may contain affiliate links that earn me a small commission at no additional cost to you. Please read my full disclaimer policy here.
Trigger Warning: This is a long and emotionally honest read. No curated photos. No 5-step checklist. Just truth—raw, vulnerable, and human.
We talk a lot about letting go on the healing journey—but not nearly enough about how deeply painful it is to release what once felt like everything.
You are going to grieve.
Not just people. Not just places.
You’re going to grieve versions of yourself, stories you built your identity around, and dreams that once gave your life shape and meaning.
With growth comes death.
There’s no bypassing it—and for that, I’m sorry.
The Hidden Loss No One Prepares You For
Some losses are obvious. Others sneak up on you.
There are the clear endings: the breakups, the relocations, the career shifts. But then there are the quieter deaths—the ones no one throws a funeral for. The dream of a forever love. The vision of growing old together. The fantasy of mutual healing and building empires side by side.
That was the death that brought me to my knees.
I had dreamed in full color:
Of traveling the world with him, of brushing teeth together in the mundane intimacy of everyday life, of watching his eyes light up when he spoke of his purpose—and being the one who helped him stay lit.
I wanted all of it.
Even when my head knew better.
Even when the red flags waved like fire alarms.
Even when his silence shattered me in places no one could see and he allowed me to take accountability for it.
None of it mattered because despite it all, I was willing to stand by his if he had just allowed me to.
I Was Willing to Stay, Even When He Couldn't
I held on long past the expiration date because—despite the pain—if felt easier to hold on than to let go of someone that I loved with every fiber of my being.
Each time I sacrificed myself to get a taste of the dream again—a sliver of hope, a memory of connection—I chipped away at my boundaries. I questioned my worth. I swallowed my voice and my pride. I silenced my needs.
Every time he inevitably sabotaged our progress by pulling away and I was forced to let go again, the grief deepened.
Until one day, I finally started digging what would become a burial plot.
The Burial That Set Me Free
It wasn’t graceful.
It wasn’t peaceful.
It was messy, loud, primal. And downright “fugly” at times.
I buried the dream he planted in me but couldn’t help grow.
And I wept.
I poured into that grave every unspoken word, every unanswered question, every “maybe someday” I used to cradle like a child.
And then bit by bit, with shaky arms and a heart that hollow, I filled the hole—and my heart— with something new:
Self-love. Confidence. Security. Boundaries. Clarity.
Everything I had hoped to receive from him, I began to offer myself instead.
Not because he deserved forgiveness.
But because I did.
Not because I excused his behavior born out of his own self-worth issues.
But becasue I understood how my own wounds allowed him to go unchecked.
“None of it mattered because despite it, I was willing to stand by his side through it all if he just allowed me to. “
5 Ways to Grieve the Death of Dreams That Never Came True
These aren’t solutions. They’re offerings. Not from some checklist—but from experience. Try what resonates, and leave what doesn’t.
1. Name the Dream Out Loud (Put Words to What Needs to Be Released)
Get specific. Was it the dream of growing old with someone? Of a family? A thriving career that never materialized? Naming it helps you witness it as real—because it was.
2. Give Yourself a Grief Ritual (My Favorite)
Light a candle. Write a letter to the dream. Bury something symbolic. Hold space in your body to feel the loss fully, without shame or spiritual bypassing.
3. Let Go of Needing Closure from Others (What I Needed Most)
The closure you need is your own acceptance that the dream died—and your acknowledgment that you’re still worthy of joy beyond it.
4. Reframe the Loss as a Birth (Helped Me to Reframe and Alchemize)
Sometimes we mistake endings as punishments when they’re really initiations. The death of that dream made room for something even more aligned with who you are becoming.
5. Create New Dreams From a Healed Place (For Reclaiming Your Worth)
Not out of desperation or fantasy—but from wholeness. From knowing you are your own soulmate, your own anchor, your own source.
Books That Helped Me Name the Grief
Sometimes, it’s not just the loss that hurts—but the inability to name what we’re feeling. These books were lifelines for me during the rawest moments of my healing. If you’re navigating a similar journey, these reads may offer you the language, clarity, and comfort you didn’t know you needed.
📖 This Is Me Letting You Go by Heidi Priebe
This collection of essays helped me begin the process of emotional detachment with compassion. If you’ve been holding on too tightly to a relationship, story, or dream, this book may be the permission slip your heart is craving. (Amazon affiliate link)
📖 Women Who Love Too Much by Robin Norwood
This classic helped me finally see the pattern I’d been stuck in—loving at my own expense, hoping I could fix or heal someone else. If your self-worth has become tangled up in someone else’s potential, this is a powerful, illuminating read. (Amazon affiliate link)
I only recommend books I’ve personally read and found transformational. If you choose to purchase through these links, I may earn a small commission at no extra cost to you. Thank you for supporting my work and your own healing journey.
From Grief to Gratitude (Eventually)
I wanted a loving, expansive partnership.
The Universe led me to myself.
I craved validation.
It showed me my worth was never up for debate.
I wanted happiness.
And it reminded me—that’s an inside job.
The dreams I buried weren’t a waste.
They were contractions, preparing me for the birth of desires I didn’t know I was allowed to have.
And that man? He wasn’t the destroyer I once labeled him.
He was the much needed mirror.
The lesson.
The catalyst.
What he couldn’t give me forced me to give it to myself.
That changed everything, and for that, I will always love and appreciate him. Forgiveness in its purest form.
“Healing never came when I clawed in search of it. Instead, it came when I was willing to listen to the lesson the pain was here to teach me.”
-Lauren Fortenberry
Final Words to the Grieving Soul
If you’re in the thick of it right now—heart cracked open, tears spilling over for a future that will never come—I want you to know:
You’re not broken.
You’re not unworthy.
You’re becoming.
This grief? It’s proof of your capacity to love, dream, and hope.
It’s sacred—even though it may seem like anything but at this time.
And when you’re ready, you will step into your ability to transmute the pain. And that pain will transform into something softer.
Something wiser.
Something new.
