Keeping Going When You Didn’t Choose This Life - Part 3 Disappointment/ Grief/ RESILIENCE

Holding a map that no longer makes sense can be a challenge, especially when we still have to find a way forward.

A couple of weeks ago I wrote about the quiet disappointment that builds when we find ourselves struggling alone, and what might sit beneath that feeling. I recalled a memory of trying my best to talk to my daughter’s school about her experiences, and ultimately failing.

Then we looked at something deeper, the grief that comes from the life we imagined not quite matching the one we’re living. I reflected back on how both my daughter’s and my experiences of her leaving traditional school were so different, and why.

Today feels like the natural next step.

Because if we’re disappointed, and we’re grieving…then how are we still here?

Real World

My daughter battled through her GCSEs home educating. She was physically unwell, mentally and emotionally exhausted, lonely and desperate to hold onto a dream that she could return to her friends when they all reached sixth form in two years.

I, on the other hand, was going through menopause (not that I knew it), mentally and emotionally exhausted from holding everyone together and watching my marriage slip from under me, lonely because I had no one who understood what I was going through on any level (nor did I tell them probably) and also desperate to hold onto that dream that she could return to her friends in two years.

Yep, life is complicated isn’t it.

And yet. Here we are, five years down the road. Physically my daughter is not much better but has adapted, she passed a few GCSEs, she never went back to her friends, she hobbled through sixth form, did well in her A levels and then paused – before eventually going to University where she’s at now.

Her life will never be simple or easy. I still struggle with that concept. So does she. But we don’t really discuss it, we’re not sure it helps.

And me? I’ve adapted too. I’m post menopausal (SO much better!), I single handedly hold my family together, I communicate much more openly and honestly (with almost everyone) and I hold onto a dream that things will work out somehow, even if I don’t know how.

So what do we take from all this? Whether you’re at the point of disappointment about how things are working out, grieving for how it’s not what you imagined, or just holding it together to get through the day, the outcome is the same. We’re navigating with a map that doesn’t make sense, but we’re journeying anyway.

Blah blah blah resilience

This is the point most people start talking about resilience. It’s often framed as something strong, steady and admirable. The ability to keep going. To cope. To hold it all together.

But I’m not sure that’s how it actually feels from the inside. Because for many of us, especially when life becomes long-term, uncertain or quietly overwhelming, resilience doesn’t feel like strength at all. It just feels like fear, because we think we’ve lost our way.

Except it’s not fear, and we haven’t lost our way.

Why? Because most of us don’t consciously realise we have a map. It’s built quietly over time, shaped by what we’ve seen, what we’ve been told, what we expected life to look like.

Map reading versus Navigating

As we progress through life we look back at the map. We turn it, fold it, bend it, put it in our pocket for a while and then carry on as best we can. We assume that if we think hard enough or plan carefully enough, we’ll find our way back to where we were supposed to be.

But sometimes the map isn’t wrong because we’ve misread it.

Sometimes it’s wrong because it no longer relates to the life we’re living.

And when that happens, resilience isn’t about trying harder. It isn’t about becoming better at managing something that feels unmanageable. It’s about learning how to navigate what we have.

Navigation doesn’t require certainty. It asks us to pay attention to where we are, respond to what’s in front of us, and make small adjustments as we go.

It doesn’t always feel strong. Much of the time it feels uncertain, messy and far from how we imagined we would handle things. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t resilience and it doesn’t mean it won’t turn out okay in the end.

So hang on in there (I’m crying now!), trust that you know how to navigate even if you don’t know where you’re going right now, allow yourself time and space to feel whatever you feel - and then gently and carefully pick yourself up again and carry on.

If, in the first part of the series, you felt that you were doing this alone this is where that begins to shift. You’re not the only one navigating this, even if it feels like it. And if you’re tired of trying to navigate everything in your own head, you don’t have to do that here. You can reach out, or come and sit with others in the Facebook group. Quietly, if that’s all you can manage. That’s enough.