
Grieving Your Old Self: Why Letting Go of Who You Used to Be Is the First Step in Healing from Chronic Illness
The Grief No One Talks About When You’re Living with Chronic Illness
There’s a grief no one warns you about when chronic illness takes over your life.
It’s not just about your aching body or the doctor’s visits.
It’s about the YOU that you had to leave behind.
The you who used to say “yes” to every invite.
The you who could clean the whole house without crashing for three days.
The you who felt like HER.
And maybe you’ve been telling yourself:
“I should be over this by now.”
“This is just my new normal.”
But deep down?
You miss her.
And it HURTS.
Why Chronic Illness Grief Is the Pain No One Talks About
They talk about physical symptoms.
They talk about pain management.
They talk about adapting.
But what they DON’T talk about?
The quiet, heavy grief of losing your old life.
The you who could be spontaneous.
The you who didn’t have to budget energy like it’s gold.
The you who could laugh without thinking about the crash later.
That grief festers in silence.
And babe—it’s time we stop pretending it doesn’t exist.
The Science Behind Why We Hold On
When your nervous system has been in survival mode for so long, your brain literally clings to familiar patterns—even if those patterns are rooted in pain or outdated versions of yourself.
Your subconscious wants to keep you safe.
And safety feels like the you that used to be able to do it all.
But here's the kicker: what kept you safe THEN is suffocating you NOW.
You can't create a new identity if you're still handcuffed to the old one.
How Writing a "Dear Old Me" Letter Helps You Heal
Here’s the truth bomb most coaches won’t tell you:
You can’t bypass grief by slapping on affirmations.
You gotta feel it.
Name it.
Honor it.
And writing is one of the most powerful tools to do just that.
When I finally wrote my “Dear Old Me” letter?
I bawled.
Like ugly cry, snot everywhere, can’t see the paper bawling.
And then I thanked her.
For surviving.
For hustling.
For doing the best she could.
And then… I let her go.
With love.
With tears.
With grace.
Because clinging to her wasn’t helping me heal.
What Women in My Community Say
Women I work with often tell me:
“I didn’t even know I was grieving until I started writing it down.”
“I realized I was holding onto clothes, routines, even relationships that belonged to the old me.”
“Once I wrote the letter, I finally felt free to stop trying to get back to her.”
This is the emotional weight you’ve been carrying, queen.
And it’s very heavy.
The Grief Women Carry (and Hide)
Missing being able to say "yes" without having to negotiate with your pain first.
Missing getting dressed without the thought, "Will this hurt my body today?"
Missing the freedom to pick up your kid, run errands, travel, dance, eat what you wanted.
Missing your old job, your old energy, your old face, your old laugh.
Missing the way you used to show up in relationships, before fear and pain built walls.
And the scariest one?Missing the version of you who believed she was unstoppable.
Steps to Let Go of the Woman You Used to Be (So You Can Heal Now)
1. Get brutally honest.
Write a list of everything you miss about your old self. Don’t sugarcoat it. Don’t pretty it up.
2. Write your “Dear Old Me” letter.
Tell her what you miss. Thank her for everything she did. Let her go with love.
3. Create a new affirmation.
Try this:I honor who I was. I embrace who I am. I welcome who I’m becoming.
4. Feel the release.
Grief is love that needs a voice. Let your body exhale. That’s healing, babe.
Journal Prompts to Take You Deeper
Set a timer. Go there. Be messy. Let it out.
The Truth About Healing from Chronic Illness Grief
Healing doesn’t mean you forget her. Healing means you stop punishing yourself for not being her anymore.
You can love her AND release her. You can miss her AND love the woman you are becoming. You can grieve AND still rise.
This is the messy middle, friend. And it’s where the magic of healing happens.
Even if you’re still in your pajamas at 2 PM.
Even if you cried in the parking lot yesterday.
Even if it’s extra messy.
You’re still worthy, babe.
You’re still here.
And you’re still becoming.
💌 Let’s Talk, Sister:
Tell me in the comments or shoot me a DM:What’s the #1 thing you miss about your old self?Let’s grieve together. Let’s rise together.
Because your story?
It deserves to be heard.
Even if the first person to hear it… is YOU.