Grieving who you needed them to be

Making sense of a sad truth: We can't change the past and we can't change people. When we can't change the situation or change who someone is, our best choice is to grieve who we needed them to be.

“I just wish they were more…”

“I want them to be someone who…

“Growing up, I really needed them to…”

“Why can’t they just…”

Does any of this sound familiar?

Chances are, at some point in our lives, we've uttered phrases like these. We wish for people to be different than they are. We wish for their decisions to be different. We've clung to the hope that they could fulfill the roles or expectations we had for them. And we've longed for a version of them that aligns with the image we've crafted in our minds. But often, our experience doesn't match our expectations.

It is a universal experience to grapple with the notion that we can't change others. We can't mold them into the people we wish they could be, no matter how much we want it. This realization can be heart-wrenching and difficult to accept. Yet, it's an essential part of the human experience, a lesson in recognizing our limits and the boundaries of our influence.

Unmet expectations

First, let's acknowledge that our desire for someone to be different often stems from unmet expectations. We create these mental blueprints of how people in our lives should act, how they should treat us, and how they should meet our emotional needs. When these expectations remain unfulfilled, we find ourselves in a state of longing and disappointment.

Perhaps it's a parent who couldn't provide the emotional support we craved, a friend who let us down, a partner who couldn't show up for us during hard moments, or a colleague who didn't live up to a professional obligation. In each case, we're confronted with the stark reality that we can't change other people. Our best choice might be to accept them as they are and grieve who we needed them to be.

The opposite of pain is grief

Grieving, typically associated with loss and mourning, may not seem like a natural response to unmet expectations, but it can be incredibly healing. When we acknowledge that we can't change someone, we can choose to grieve the version of them that we needed them to be.

Grieving in this context doesn't mean we're mourning a death, but rather the loss of an ideal and the death of a fantasy that we held onto for so long. It's about recognizing the pain that comes from trying to force someone into a mold they were never meant to— or were never able to— fit into.

Grief, then, is about processing the emotional pain we carry from having our expectations unmet and unfulfilled. The process of grief allows us to validate our struggle and acknowledge how difficult and frustrating our experience has been. Grief is not designed to make things different. Grief gives us the chance to process the things we didn’t choose and the things we cannot control. Grief allows us to transform our pain into possibility.

Resist the righting reflex

We all have a reflex to fix, to solve, and to make things “right” again. This is called our righting reflex. It is part of our survival package which encourages us to restore order and reduce discomfort where possible. At times, we put on our capes and take on every problem as our own. It is not your job to fix, solve, or get rid of every problem you notice. When it comes to other people, and our expectations of them, sometimes it best to resist the righting reflex.

The righting reflex explains how we sometimes create an ideal version of people in our minds, effectively creating two versions of one person— the person they are and the person we want them to be. The righting reflex is what drives our desire for people to be a better, more ideal version of themselves. It comes from an honourable place; it is healthy to want others to be better and do better. In relationships, however, sometimes it is better for us to subdue the urge to create idealized versions of the people around us.

If I’m being honest, I think this is something I’m still chewing on. Maybe my hesitation to fully accept this truth stems from my desire for people to do better and be better. I want to believe that people are capable of changing, so maybe I hold out hope that some day they’ll see it that way too. I’m someone who believes in the human capacity for change and maybe I also struggle to accept that some people may not want to.

I’m trained to help people identify their areas for growth and I know the righting reflex, that urge within us to fix problems and give advice, is also not how change occurs. In therapy, we don’t give advice nor do we tell people what to do. We guide people on an inner journey so they can decide what changes they wish to make for themselves. Change happens when we shed the layers that are no longer serving us and turn towards the things that feel uncertain and unknown. At its core, change is a process of grief.

I know there is healing power in every grief process, so I know there can be immense growth alongside immense discomfort.

Even though it’s uncomfortable, there is growth when we’re made to grieve who we need— or needed— people to be.

Where there is pain, grief will soon follow. I’m grieving with you.

Hold your loved ones extra close this week,

Jake