I’m usually late to the party when it comes to pop culture, especially TV shows that “everyone” talks about. Case in point: I’ve just started streaming Ted Lasso. The other night, I watched an episode filmed in Amsterdam and was instantly reminded of my own visit there with my friend Debbie on a bank holiday while we were working in Europe.
There was a line in that episode that made me hit pause and reach for my phone. One character, talking about his divorce, said: “I realized this didn’t happen TO me, it happened FOR me.”
I actually emailed that quote to myself just to make sure I wouldn’t forget it.
Because that right there is the power of a mindset shift.
When Loss Feels Like It Happened To You
Now, I’m not about to sugarcoat grief. When loss first crashes into our lives, it feels like the most brutal “to me” moment imaginable. Someone you love is gone. Your life has been upended. You didn’t choose it, you didn’t want it, and you sure as hell didn’t invite it. The “happened for me” idea can feel insulting, even cruel, when the wound is fresh.
And yet… with time, perspective sometimes creeps in. Not because we go looking for silver linings, but because we start to notice what else grief has made possible.
We realize that losing that job was probably the best thing for us. Or that girlfriend that never quite got you, but was convenient to have around, wasn’t your person and made way for the love of your life.
What My Losses Taught Me
When I was writing my memoir, Life After Losses, I had a startling realization. The death of my first husband, as shattering as it was, gave me tools I didn’t even know I was building—tools I desperately needed after my second husband died. And that second loss? It gave me the perspective I wish I’d had during the first.
Would I have ever chosen either loss? Absolutely not. But I can now recognize that while those losses happened to me, they also shaped something for me: resilience, empathy, and a kind of hard-earned wisdom I didn’t have before. And, for that, I am grateful. I’m actually grateful for the perspective they both gave me.
Doors That Close, Doors That Open
There’s an old proverb: “Every time a door closes, another one opens.” When you’re grieving, that can sound like a cruel platitude. But here’s how I’ve come to see it: the new door isn’t necessarily better or brighter—it’s just different. And sometimes “different” is exactly what we need to keep going.
That’s the shift. Not denial. Not pretending it doesn’t hurt. But allowing that grief might also be carrying the seed of something we don’t yet understand.
There Are Two Sides
And here’s something I learned from the girls at Eastland School: “You take the good, you take the bad, you take them both, and there you have—the facts of life.”
Yes, I just distilled one of life’s hardest truths into a cheesy 1980s sitcom theme song. But you know what? It’s not wrong. Life is both/and. Good and bad. Loss and growth. Tears and laughter. Yin and yang. We don’t get to choose only one side of the coin; we carry both sides in our pockets.
Not Toxic Positivity—Perspective
Sometimes people tell me this sounds like toxic positivity. And I get that. But let me be clear: this isn’t about slapping on a smile and pretending everything’s fine. It’s about perspective earned over years, even decades.
“Toxic positivity” demands that we skip the hard stuff. Perspective says: feel the pain, honor the loss, AND stay open to what grief might be shaping in you. It’s not either/or. It’s both/and.
Your Challenge This Week
So here’s my challenge for you:
Take a moment to think about something in your life that felt like it happened to you—a loss, a disappointment, a change you never wanted. Then ask yourself: is there even one small way it might have also happened for you?
You don’t have to force an answer. You don’t have to make it noble or pretty. But noticing even a sliver of “for” in the middle of “to” can shift how you carry it.
What’s one experience in your life that, while painful, eventually offered you something you didn’t expect?
