Becoming: Identity, Loss and the Quiet Power of Rebuilding
- Samantha Cooke
- Jul 17
- 4 min read

Introduction
When life takes an unexpected turn, our first response is often to focus on what has been lost. It might be a job that ended, a relationship that changed, or a version of the future that no longer feels possible. These losses are real and deserve to be grieved.
But something else often happens too. Something quieter. Beneath the pain, there can be a slow and subtle shift. An invitation, not always welcome at first, to start reassessing who we are and how we want to live.
This idea came into focus during a recent conversation with a new supervisor. She asked me what kind of work I most enjoy. I found myself speaking about my niche: working with people who are navigating life transitions and unexpected changes. I talked about the often unseen nature of the grief they carry, and how, alongside the sadness, there can also be space for reflection, re-evaluation, and growth.
She smiled and told me how much I lit up as I spoke. And she was right. I do feel deeply connected to this work. That spark comes not only from my professional interest, but also from a personal place of knowing. That quiet recognition often shapes how I sit alongside others as they do the same.
When life doesn’t go to plan
Much of our sense of self is shaped by what we expect life to look like. We imagine how our relationships, careers, families or futures will unfold. These expectations can provide a sense of direction and identity.
So, when life doesn’t go to plan, it can shake us. Whether it’s illness, divorce, estrangement, redundancy, childlessness, or another form of change, we are often left grappling not just with grief, but with a deeper question: who am I now?
When the life we were living no longer fits, or the future we were moving towards suddenly vanishes, it can bring a profound sense of disorientation. This uncertainty is rarely talked about, but it sits at the heart of many of the stories I hear in the counselling room, and its threads are woven through my own personal story too.
Letting go of old versions of ourselves
In these moments of disruption, there can be a quiet invitation to start letting go. Not of everything, and certainly not all at once, but of the parts of our identity that may no longer feel true.
Letting go might look like questioning long-held roles or expectations. It might involve noticing patterns that have been playing out in relationships. It could mean starting to listen more closely to your own needs, especially if those needs have often come second to others.
This shedding of old identities is rarely neat or comfortable. It can feel like standing on shifting ground. But it also creates space. Space to begin again. Not by recreating what once was, but by rebuilding something that feels more aligned with who you are now.
The urge to take up space again
Grief often asks us to retreat. In the early stages, it can feel like all we can do is survive. But over time, something can begin to stir. A quiet sense that it might be time to take up space again.
This does not mean returning to who you were before. It means emerging as someone who has been changed by loss, and who wants to live more honestly in light of that change. Often, this desire shows up as a longing to feel more in charge of your own life. To make choices with greater intention. To honour your own voice, needs, and boundaries.
This is not selfish. It is not about shutting others out or becoming self-centred. It is about recognising your worth and allowing yourself to live in a way that feels truer and more grounded.
Making space for change in counselling
You do not need to know where this path is leading. You do not need to have a clear plan or a strong sense of direction. Sometimes, the first step is simply allowing yourself to ask the questions.
Counselling can be a place for that kind of exploration. A space where you do not have to rush to answers or perform certainty. Where you can grieve what has been lost and slowly get curious about what might come next.
For many people I work with, this looks like starting to reclaim parts of themselves that had been buried or silenced. It might be the rediscovery of creativity, the re-evaluation of boundaries, or the permission to want more from life. All of this takes time. But in a therapeutic relationship built on trust and care, change can begin to feel possible.
In closing
If life hasn’t gone as you expected, and you find yourself questioning who you are and what you want, you are not alone. These moments can feel messy and disorienting, but they can also be meaningful. They offer a chance to rebuild, not by going back, but by moving forward in a way that reflects who you are becoming.
You are allowed to change. You are allowed to want something different. You are allowed to take up space.
And if you are looking for a place to begin that journey, counselling can offer the support and steadiness you need.
Comments