I Don’t Know Who I Am Without Them (And How to Start Figuring That Out)

You’re not crazy for not recognizing the person staring back at you in the mirror.

When someone you love dies the loss runs often deeper than their absence. It can feel like you’ve lost yourself too.

Who even are you without them?

That question lingers everywhere—in your hobbies, in the meals you cook, in the way your weekends feel hollow or unrecognizable. What used to be comforting or joyful now just feels empty and painful.

The dreams, the goals, the inside jokes… were they ever really yours? Or were they just part of you as a “we”?

Here’s the thing: this is so common in grief, but maybe this is the first time you’re hearing about it. You don’t just lose the person—you lose the version of yourself that existed with them. Your identity, once intertwined with theirs, feels like it was ripped out at the roots.

But this isn’t the end of your story.

Even if it feels impossible right now, you can find yourself again. You can build something new and meaningful from here. It won’t look the same—and honestly, it shouldn’t. But what’s on the other side of this disorientation?

Hope.

Confidence.

A sense of peace and possibility again.

The ability to dream and set goals for you.

Let's walk you through three gentle, grounded strategies for starting to rediscover your sense of self—and how I help clients do this work in a deeply supportive, personalized way inside my private coaching.

You deserve to feel like yourself again—even if “yourself” looks and feels a little different now.

Let’s start there.

Strategy 1: Make Space for the Person You're Becoming

This might be one of the hardest parts of grief—and one of the most necessary for moving forward.

When someone you love dies, the pain is all-consuming. In those early days, it’s about surviving the moment, the hour, the day. And as the dust starts to settle, many people find themselves reaching for something familiar. Some kind of normal.

That makes sense. You liked your life before. You were happy. You had routines, inside jokes, shared goals, a vision of the future. It felt like home.

Of course you want that back.

But here’s the truth that often gets skipped over: You’re not the same person anymore.

Grief changes you. It has changed you. Deeply. Fundamentally. It’s no wonder you feel like you don’t fit into your life anymore.

How you see yourself, what you value, what you want, what you tolerate. It shifts your inner landscape. It rearranges your inner compass.

And yet… so many people get stuck trying to get back to normal—to who they were before the loss.

They try to live the same way, think the same way, be the same. And when that doesn’t work, they feel frustrated, ashamed, or broken.

You’re not broken. You’re evolving.

Letting go of the person you were isn’t about erasing your past. It’s about making room for the person you’re becoming.

It’s recognizing that the version of you who lived that shared life still matters. Deeply. You got yourself this far—carrying the love, the laughter, the history. The past version of you isn’t gone; it’s just changing shape....

This part of grief—the identity piece—is often invisible to the outside world. Friends and family may not understand why you’re struggling “now that things are calmer.” But you know better. Because what you’re going through now isn’t just sadness. It’s disorientation.

And it deserves your time and care.

This is often where we begin with my clients. Gently. Tenderly. We name who you were. We honor that version of you. And then we start asking questions that help uncover who you are now.

What still feels like “you”?

What no longer fits—even if it once did?

What do you want to carry forward, and what might it be time to set down?

This is slow work. Brave work. Sacred work. And you don’t have to do it alone.

I help clients explore this phase with support and intention. We create space to grieve not just the person they lost, but the version of themselves they were with that person. We look at what’s shifting, what’s emerging, and how to move forward without leaving anything meaningful behind.

Letting go isn’t forgetting.

It’s the first step toward becoming the next version of yourself—one who still carries that love, but also has room to grow, to stretch, to hope again.

Strategy 2: Test Out New (and Old) Pieces of Yourself

After loss, it’s common to feel like you’re walking through your own life like a guest—everything familiar, but nothing quite feeling like it fits anymore.

The foods you used to love don’t taste the same. The hobbies that once filled your weekends now sit untouched. Even the clothes in your closet can feel like they belong to someone else.

Here’s the thing: when your identity has been shaped around another person for so long, their absence can leave you wondering what’s actually yours.

What did I like because I liked it? What did I do because it was “ours”? And… do I even know what I want anymore?

That’s why this next phase of healing isn’t about having answers—it’s about being willing to experiment.

You don’t need a 5-year plan. You don’t need to “reinvent yourself” or land on some big, grand vision for the future. You just need to start paying attention—to the little things.

Try wearing something you haven’t in a while.

Order something different at your usual coffee shop.

Move the furniture.

Buy the new sheets.

Take the pottery class.

Go to the bookstore.

Revisit that old playlist from college.

This is not about whether you stick with any of these things. It’s about seeing how they feel now.

Maybe the detailed craft project you used to love now feels exhausting. Or maybe, surprisingly, it’s the one thing that calms your mind.

Maybe you were always a social butterfly—but now small, quiet gatherings are the only thing that feels nourishing.

Maybe the thought of watching your favorite show alone hurts too much right now. Or maybe rewatching it is your way of staying connected.

There are no right or wrong answers. Just information. Just breadcrumbs leading you toward yourself.

I often help clients approach this phase like a series of gentle experiments. Together, we look at what used to feel like “you,” what feels off now, and what new pieces might be emerging. And we do it without pressure—because there’s no test to pass here. This is exploration, not performance.

A huge part of identity rebuilding is curiosity. Not certainty, not confidence—just curiosity.

You might try something and decide, Nope, that’s not for me anymore. Great. That’s good data. Now you know.

Or maybe you’ll try something and feel that tiny flicker of joy, of this feels good, of this might be me.

That’s where we start. With flickers.

And when you’re ready, we gather those flickers and begin shaping a life that fits the person you are now. Not the person you were. Not the person you think you should be. But the person who's waking up inside you, one brave step at a time.

Strategy 3: Reclaim the Parts of You That Got Quiet

Grief doesn’t just take away the person—it often reveals how much of you got wrapped up in the life you shared with them.

In any close relationship, especially in a long-term partnership, there are little compromises we make without thinking twice. Sometimes they’re big—like where you live or how you spend holidays.

Other times, they’re so small you barely notice them, like which side of the bed you sleep on, or what vegetables you cook.

But when your person is no longer here, those small choices take on a different weight. You start to realize how many of your preferences, routines, and even parts of your personality were shaped in relationship to theirs.

And that’s where this strategy comes in: Reclaiming what you gave up.

It’s not about defying your shared memories or rewriting your past. It’s about gently, curiously asking: What parts of you did you set aside that you might want to invite back in?

Let me give you an example: My husband hated peas. Hated them.

So I stopped making peas. Not because I didn’t like them—I actually love peas—but because it was just one of those little things you do for the person you love. No big deal.

Then, after he died, I found myself buying peas at the grocery store. Then cooking with them. Then cooking with them a lot. One night, my son looked up from his plate and said, “Mom… why are we eating peas all the time now?”

It was just one of the eleventy-thousand bittersweet moments that have been a part of my life since he died. Because that moment held more than just a vegetable—it was one of the first times I realized I was making choices just for me again.

That’s what this step is about.

What did you used to love, or be curious about, or want for yourself, that didn’t fit into your life as it was?

Maybe it’s music you never played out loud because it wasn’t their thing.

Maybe it’s a hobby or interest that took up too much time or space to realistically pursue.

Maybe it’s something as small as decorating a room in a style they didn’t like—or wearing a fragrance they didn’t enjoy.

These aren’t acts of rebellion. They’re small acts of reconnection.

This is a powerful turning point for many clients. We start to look at what’s been unconsciously put on pause—and what might be ready to return. It’s often emotional.

Sometimes joyful. Sometimes complicated. And always healing.

Reclaiming something doesn’t mean you love your person any less. It doesn’t mean the compromises you made were wrong. It just means that now, you get to choose again.

You get to decide what comes with you—and what you’re ready to invite back in.

So go ahead. Eat the peas. Wear the boots. Play the old records. Paint the wall your favorite color.

It’s your life now. You still get to make it yours.

You Might Be Wondering: “Does Moving Forward Without Them Mean I’m Leaving Them Behind?”

No. It doesn’t.

Let’s be crystal clear: figuring out who you are without them is not the same as erasing who you were with them.

In fact, the person you were in that relationship—the love you had, the life you shared—becomes part of the foundation you’re building on now.

You’re not starting from scratch. You’re building on memories, on love, on resilience, on you.

Grief isn’t about letting go. It’s about learning to carry love and loss at the same time—and still move forward.

You’re Allowed to Be You Again

Here’s what I want you to hear, maybe more than anything else in this post: You haven’t disappeared.

You’re still here.

You might not feel like yourself right now. You might feel disconnected, unrecognizable even — like you’re wandering through a life that doesn’t quite fit anymore. And that makes sense. Because grief didn’t just take your person. It reshaped you.

But here’s the quiet hope at the heart of all this: The version of you that’s emerging now deserves space to come forward. That version is allowed to look, sound, and live differently than before — and that doesn’t erase who you were. It simply means you’re growing in the direction your life is asking you to go.

Letting go of who you were with them isn’t betrayal. It’s brave. It’s acknowledging that your relationship shaped you deeply—and your grief has shaped you too. It’s the first step toward discovering who you are now.

And that discovery doesn’t happen in one big moment. It unfolds in tiny acts of experimentation.

Trying things on.

Noticing what feels like home and what doesn’t.

Giving yourself permission to shift, soften, explore, or begin again.

Sometimes the most hopeful thing you can do is simply follow the smallest spark: a flicker of interest, a moment of relief, a choice that feels even a little bit like yours.

You don’t need to see the whole path. You just need a place to put your next foot. And those small steps? They add up. They truly do.

You’re not moving on. You’re moving forward—with all the love, all the memories, and all the pieces of them that live in you.

And yes… You’re allowed to become the person who’s taking shape inside you now.

Ready for Support as You Rebuild?

If something in this post helped you see that what you really want is a sense of identity again…

...a feeling of belonging in your own life…

...or the quiet confidence that you’re allowed to grow—you’re in the right place.

That awareness is powerful, but awareness alone doesn’t create change. 

Let me hold your hand while you step into your next chapter.

Working together 1:1, I can help you…

Rebuild your confidence in small, sustainable steps...

Experiment with new versions of yourself without judgment or pressure...

Make intentional decisions about what comes with you, what you’re leaving behind, and where you’re going next....

Craft a life that feels meaningful, steady, and authentic to who you’re becoming.

You are not lost. You’re transforming.

Let’s make sure you have the support you need along the way.

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Just 30 minutes to give you the chance to ask questions, check the vibe, and see if I’m someone you’d like to walk with you while you rebuild your life.