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.