1 Corinthians 7:17
“As God hath distributed to every man, as the Lord hath called every one, so let him walk.”

Grieving Lost Expectations

For a long time, I lived as though my happiness depended on managing life correctly—saying the right things, responding the right way, keeping everything running smoothly.

If we communicated well enough, marriage would work.
If I tried hard enough, parenting would feel easier.
If I got everything right, peace would finally come.

Truth bomb: life rarely cooperates with formulas.

What I didn’t see at the time was how tightly I tend to hold on to control.

Eventually it became clear that I was carrying expectations that weren’t fair to anyone—especially my husband. I had slowly made him responsible for far more than he could ever carry, depending on him to respond in ways that would always make me feel safe, understood, and steady. Not because he isn’t capable or doesn’t care, but because there is a void in all of us that was only ever meant to be filled by God Himself.

The life I imagined and the life I was actually living were not the same—and that difference had to be faced.

Slowly over the next several weeks I found myself grieving expectations I didn’t even realize I was holding. There were moments of deep reflection, quiet nostalgia, and more tears than I anticipated—but they didn’t feel like the tears of fresh hurt.

They felt like release.

It was the slow acceptance that something I once believed about life might not be true anymore.

And strangely, that acceptance began bringing relief. Because once I stopped trying to force life into the shape I had imagined, I realized that the life in front of me was not broken.

It was simply different than I expected.

And different does not have to mean worse.

I began seeing things more clearly.

My sense of security had become dependent on the people closest to me. When things felt good between us, I was steady. When they didn’t, everything inside me felt unsettled. It was also how I approached my relationship with God Himself.

My husband and my kids are not extensions of me. They are individuals with their own stories unfolding alongside mine and this made my heart soften. I noticed that my husband had been grieving parts of this season too. In many ways, we had both been missing each other in the middle of the same life we were trying to build together.

First picture as family of four
(four weeks pregnant with our son)

Motherhood also started to look different.

I’ve never loved imaginative play. For a long time I carried guilt about that, believing that a better mother would enjoy those moments more.

Eventually I began asking a different question. Instead of, “Why can’t I be the kind of mom who loves this?” I started asking, “How can I love my child well within the personality God actually gave me?” and “How can I build connection with the capacity I have right now?”

Those questions changed everything.

Instead of forcing myself into something that felt unnatural, I began inviting my daughter into the small rhythms of everyday life—helping cook dinner, helping with simple tasks, going on walks, learning together in the middle of ordinary moments.

Do I still get overwhelmed? Do I still have to choose to be intentional? Absolutely. But one step, one action, one breath at a time is all He asks us to handle with His grace.

I’m just trying to start somewhere.

Around the same time, I realized something else.

Somewhere between marriage, motherhood, my job and the responsibilities of everyday life, I had lost touch with parts of myself that once brought me joy.

So I returned to something I had always loved—design. What began as a small creative outlet is unexpectedly turning into something much bigger, but my point here is that I began living inside the life I already had instead of constantly trying to reshape it into something else.

My Biggest Revelation

Part of letting go was realizing that there isn’t a version of me waiting somewhere else. For a long time, I think both my husband and I expected different versions of me—the one at home and the one on vacation, the one before kids and the one after. The one I’m always trying to get back to, as if she’s been left behind somewhere along the way.

But those aren’t separate people—they can’t be separate people. And if I’m always trying to get back to who I was, I’ll never learn to be content with who I am now.

There is only this life—and I am not a mom one minute and a wife the next. I am becoming someone who doesn’t have to divide herself anymore—wife, lover, mom, friend, and woman—learning how all of it lives together instead of apart.

Full disclosure

This has been one of the most grounding realizations in this season—and I’m still learning what it looks like.

I haven’t arrived at some perfected version of acceptance. I’m still discovering how to balance love, responsibility, boundaries, and growth inside the life God has given me and I’m absolutely sitting next to you while you say “I just don’t think I can do that, right now”.

That’s ok—because you can’t force something you’re not ready to face.

But when you are ready? I promise you—something will change inside of you.

The pressure to manage everything perfectly will start to loosen.

Comparison will lose some of its power.

And the life you once thought needed fixing may just become the very place where He intended to meet you all along.

Live The Life God Gave You