The Quiet Grief of Outgrowing Your Old Life
There’s a strange kind of grief that doesn’t get talked about much. It’s not dramatic, it doesn’t announce itself, and it doesn’t require funerals or casseroles or whispered condolences. It’s the grief of outgrowing a life that you once wanted so badly. Maybe you’ve had moments where you look around and thinking about how you should feel grateful, but somethings feels off. Or maybe you realize that the relationships, beliefs, routines, or identities that once fit your perfectly now feel just a little too small. You can make it work, but that too feels off. Constricting.
Conrad vs. Jeremiah: When a Shutdown Feels like a Rejection
If you’ve been following The Summer I Turned Pretty (like me), you’ve most likely had very strong feelings about the love triangle between Belly, Conrad, and Jeremiah. Some people root for Jeremiah’s open-heartedness and outgoing personality, while others feel pulled towards Conrad’s brooding intensity.
But what makes Conrad controversial at times, and yet so compelling, is his safety protocol of shut-down.
When Conrad gets flooded emotionally, instead of opening up, he retreats. He pulls away from Belly, leaving her hurt and confused, and questioning what she means to him. To someone on the outside, this looks like coldness or disinterest. But underneath, Conrad’s withdrawal is a defense mechanism… which is where fiction mirrors real life.
Am I Having a Quarter-Life Crisis? Or Am I Finally Waking Up?
And still - there is something in your body that isn’t right. A quiet sense of dislocation. A feeling like maybe you’re living slightly adjacent to your real life.
This doesn’t mean you’re broken or something is wrong with you, but maybe that you are finally waking up.