She spent her 22nd wedding anniversary organizing her walk-in closet with a pint of ice cream and her golden retriever.
Exactly three weeks before their anniversary, Kathy decided she wouldn’t offer her husband the usual reminders.
If he forgets again, I won’t say a thing.
And she didn’t say a thing to him… until a week later.
Two years earlier, Kathy’s therapist had suggested, “I can’t diagnose him without talking with him. But have you ever considered that your husband might be neurodivergent?”
Since that conversation, Kathy had learned as much as she could through books, articles, podcasts, and courses. She was always a problem solver, slow to give in or give up. Her shelves were lined with titles to prove it, and her therapist remarked, “Kathy, you’ve put in triple the learning hours that I received in graduate school.”
After two years of feeling angry, frustrated, lonely, and sad, she decided enough was enough.
It was time to “get over it,” let go, and live her life. Armed with knowledge, she resolved to make better decisions. She would set sensible expectations. She would rationally analyze each problem and challenging interaction and not take it so personally. She would stay busy with new hobbies and find exciting new friend groups. She would work toward that promotion.
But she also drank a little more than she used to and stayed up too late scrolling on her phone or watching TV. She heard herself snapping more at her kids.
At some point, the day winds down, and the house grows quiet. The busyness subsides, and the mind thinks.
That’s when buried feelings creep out of hiding—when the mind recounts painful conversations and replays disappointments on an endless loop.
This is what happened, and why Kathy couldn’t keep her promise to herself to not say a thing—or her vow to get over it and let go.
In all her books and podcasts, nobody had taught her how to let go of hopes and expectations and the life she thought she’d have.
The brain can’t fix a broken heart.
The Wounds We Can’t Think Our Way Through
Kathy’s story is deeply personal—but not uncommon.
I think we all have a version of this experience—of trying to think our way through something that actually needs to be felt. From an early age, we’re taught to solve problems with our minds. And it’s not all wrong. As a mom, I’m thankful I can control my panic and push past fear to calmly take care of cuts and scrapes. But that same ability to override emotion can become a habit of ignoring what’s really going on inside.
We end up managing, performing, functioning—without noticing that parts of us are quietly breaking.
We become experts at holding it together, even when we’re unraveling on the inside. And the truth is, some things can’t be “figured out.”
Grief, disappointment, relational pain—these aren’t problems to solve. They’re wounds to tend.
The Losses We Can’t See—but Still Carry
Some losses are obvious. Others are hidden away under layers of self-protection and good intentions—like rationalization, comparison, or redirection. These are the losses we don’t always name—because we’re not sure they count. But they still hurt. They still shape us.
Rationalization sounds like: “He didn’t mean to.” “It’s not that big of a deal.” “I should be over this by now.”
We talk ourselves out of feeling hurt because acknowledging it feels too vulnerable—or too final.
Comparison whispers: “Other people have it worse.”
It’s meant to keep us grateful, but often it just keeps us quiet.
Redirection tells us: “Stay busy. Be productive. Focus on the positive.”
But grief doesn’t care how full your calendar is. It will wait. It always does.
Unmet expectations, emotional disconnection, and lost dreams may not be dramatic, but they’re deeply personal—and profoundly real. When they go unnamed and unprocessed, they don’t disappear.
They sink into the heart, taking up space where peace and joy are meant to live.
No amount of knowledge, logic, or positive thinking can resolve what needs to be felt, grieved, and released.
The Heart Needs to be Heard
If you’ve been carrying silent grief or quietly letting go of pieces of yourself, you’re not alone. There is a way to name what’s been lost—and gently tend to what’s been buried.
Because heartbreak isn’t a thinking problem to be solved. It’s a natural response to painful loss that needs to be heard and healed by taking intentional steps to walk through, complete, and finally feel free.
It’s not your fault—we’ve all been handed the wrong tools and advice for dealing with loss and lingering life disappointments. The good news? Now you know what’s been keeping you stuck.
Even better news? There’s a way forward—one that helps you feel lighter, more whole, and more like your best self again. And, it’s less complicated than you’d think. No advanced degrees required.
A Next Step
If something in this post resonated, you don’t have to navigate it alone.
I offer one-on-one support and a small group experience using The Grief Recovery Method®—an evidence-based process for taking meaningful steps to heal and move through your grief.
A new 8-week group begins at the end of August. It’s a supportive space to name your losses, process what’s been carried, and gently create room for peace and joy.
If you’d like to learn more or explore whether it’s the right next step for you, I’d be honored to connect.