Grieving the Life I Was Supposed to Live.

There is a version of my life I had planned.

I don’t talk about it much. But it existed. And somewhere along the way, between the decisions I made and the ones that were made for me, that version quietly slipped away.

Grieving a life you never actually lived is a strange thing. There’s no funeral for it. No one sends flowers. People don’t even know what you’ve lost because from the outside, you’re still here. Still standing. Still showing up.

But inside you’re quietly mourning a different version of yourself.

I’ve had to learn something hard recently. Something I resisted for a long time.

Sometimes you just have to admit the mistakes you made. And accept the consequences. (I know.. not fun!)

Not to punish yourself. Not to rip yourself apart. But to look at it honestly and say ,that happened. I played a part. And now I choose what to do with that.

Because being my own worst enemy? She’s not invited anymore.

Any mistake is only welcome in my present if it has a lesson attached to it. Otherwise it’s like an email I’m not just leaving on unread. I’m finally pressing delete.

I have no more mental capacity for useless moments. I am filtering now. Aggressively, unapologetically filtering.

Some memories are not pleasant. But if I’m supposed to learn from them I’ll revisit them. Briefly. With purpose. And then I’ll close the tab.

The plot twists of life are hard to understand in the present moment.

Why did this happen? Why now? Why me?

But in hindsight and I’m only just beginning to understand this, it’s all about perspective.

Every detour. Every loss. Every version of the plan that didn’t work out. It was all quietly redirecting me to exactly where I needed to go.

I couldn’t see it then. I’m starting to see it now.

I’m done grieving the life I was supposed to live.
I’m choosing the one I actually have.

So… Im done looking over my shoulder.

The only reason I will ever look back is to measure how far I’ve come. To find the lesson. To extract what is useful and leave the rest behind, not with bitterness, but with grace.

The past is not a place I live in anymore. It is simply a classroom I occasionally revisit. I take the notes, I apply the lesson, and I walk back out into the present.

Intentionally. Purposefully. Eyes forward.

I choose growth. I choose now. I choose the version of Sushmita who is being built in this season, not the one who was broken in the last one.

She was never the final version anyway.

— Sushmita