You captured the ache of the “selves that never were” with such clarity, I could feel my childhood ambitions quietly sitting up in their dusty attic, blinking.
Growing up with two therapists as parents, I used to think there was a name for every feeling, like some sophisticated German compound word that translated to “sad about the fact that I never became a tap-dancing marine biologist.” But ambiguous grief? That one rocks for me.
I especially loved: “There are no memorials for the person you never became.” It’s a line I’ll remember.
Thank you for articulating this with such grace.
Here’s to giving our parallel selves a moment of recognition 😊.
Wow! thank you for this deeply touching response. Your image of childhood ambitions “quietly sitting up in their dusty attic, blinking” gave me chills. And I love that idea of there being some perfect German word for the ache of un lived dreams, maybe we’re all carrying a little tap-dancing marine biologist within us.
I’m so glad the piece resonated, especially the idea of ambiguous grief. It’s comforting to know these quiet emotions have a shared language. Here’s to honouring those parallel selves together. 💛
Thank you for your vulnerability in writing this precious piece. Yes, we all have regrets.
Once, I was diagnosed with clinical depression. Today, I still struggle to believe in myself and my ‘work’, my art. But, what we create outlives us! There is a sense of eternity in everything a human BEING creates.
That is why creativity and creators are perpetually and viciously attacked in the spirit- and regarding their ‘value.’
That is why only the vain, the mediocre and the banal ‘succeed.’
Lately, I have found that an attitude of gratitude, which comes from my faith in Jesus Christ and (trying to) read G-d’s word daily, extremely helpful with “coulda shoulda woulda” It also banishes depression to the ‘dry places’ that it comes from!
In the finite time I have left in this life, daily I choose to move closer to G-d every moment he measures for me.
For I know that I have all eternity with him, to be the being he created me to be!
Thank you so much for sharing your journey with such honesty and depth. Your words carry both the weight of experience and the light of faith, and I’m honoured that this piece resonated with you.
I deeply felt what you said about creativity how it lives beyond us, and how it’s so often misunderstood or undervalued. Yet, you’re absolutely right: there’s something eternal in what we create, especially when it flows from a place of truth and spirit.
I admire your commitment to moving closer to God each day and finding healing in gratitude and faith. May your path continue to be guided and nourished and may your art remind you (and others) of the divine spark you carry.
You captured the ache of the “selves that never were” with such clarity, I could feel my childhood ambitions quietly sitting up in their dusty attic, blinking.
Growing up with two therapists as parents, I used to think there was a name for every feeling, like some sophisticated German compound word that translated to “sad about the fact that I never became a tap-dancing marine biologist.” But ambiguous grief? That one rocks for me.
I especially loved: “There are no memorials for the person you never became.” It’s a line I’ll remember.
Thank you for articulating this with such grace.
Here’s to giving our parallel selves a moment of recognition 😊.
Couldn’t help myself: subscribed.
Siggy xx
Wow! thank you for this deeply touching response. Your image of childhood ambitions “quietly sitting up in their dusty attic, blinking” gave me chills. And I love that idea of there being some perfect German word for the ache of un lived dreams, maybe we’re all carrying a little tap-dancing marine biologist within us.
I’m so glad the piece resonated, especially the idea of ambiguous grief. It’s comforting to know these quiet emotions have a shared language. Here’s to honouring those parallel selves together. 💛
Beautifully said and deeply resonant.
Thank you so much Nicole, i do appreciate you
Thank you for your vulnerability in writing this precious piece. Yes, we all have regrets.
Once, I was diagnosed with clinical depression. Today, I still struggle to believe in myself and my ‘work’, my art. But, what we create outlives us! There is a sense of eternity in everything a human BEING creates.
That is why creativity and creators are perpetually and viciously attacked in the spirit- and regarding their ‘value.’
That is why only the vain, the mediocre and the banal ‘succeed.’
Lately, I have found that an attitude of gratitude, which comes from my faith in Jesus Christ and (trying to) read G-d’s word daily, extremely helpful with “coulda shoulda woulda” It also banishes depression to the ‘dry places’ that it comes from!
In the finite time I have left in this life, daily I choose to move closer to G-d every moment he measures for me.
For I know that I have all eternity with him, to be the being he created me to be!
Thank you so much for sharing your journey with such honesty and depth. Your words carry both the weight of experience and the light of faith, and I’m honoured that this piece resonated with you.
I deeply felt what you said about creativity how it lives beyond us, and how it’s so often misunderstood or undervalued. Yet, you’re absolutely right: there’s something eternal in what we create, especially when it flows from a place of truth and spirit.
I admire your commitment to moving closer to God each day and finding healing in gratitude and faith. May your path continue to be guided and nourished and may your art remind you (and others) of the divine spark you carry.