Opinion

Broken promises and disappointment from this pandemic: A chance to tell a new story?

iStock

As the first marathon many had run since the pandemic began, the New York Marathon had special meaning for runners this year. But while it was uplifting for many, for others it was a reminder of dreams deferred or destroyed by COVID.

Many are still in mourning for what we lost; not just the people, but the life that two years ago we thought we would be living right now. Carrying grief and disappointment forward is hard.

It is particularly hard for younger people, or those who haven’t had the life experience to know that sometimes things—big things—don’t go according to plan. And a lot hasn’t gone according to the narrative we had planned for ourselves these past 21 months. Many high school students will never have a prom or a “normal” graduation; others spent their first year of college living at home. Adults missed key personal events like family gatherings, weddings, and sharing the birth of their children, as well as professional milestones—arguing their first case in court, presenting at a conference, meeting new colleagues in person.

Even the Covid “recovery” has been slower and more choppy than we imagined a year ago.  As we face another holiday season, many families are back to masking, or fighting about masking and social distancing. It’s easy to get stuck dwelling on how it wasn’t supposed to be like this. 

The good news is that we can rewrite our narrative, something behavioral health experts call positive reappraisal. Telling a different story about an event through a positive lens can be an important pathway towards resilience and well-being. 

We’ve seen similar struggles in other generations. Generations ago, veterans and their families had their lives upended by World War II, when everything from gas to shoes was rationed. In later years, many carried those memories, and the coping strategies that got them through, as a mark of honor. But in the moment that you’re going through it, it’s hard not to feel disappointed, deprived, and even betrayed.

The pandemic has provided great practice for positive reappraisal. Instead of mourning the narrative that you thought you would be a part of, why not create a new narrative? Your own. Make yourself the hero, find new themes, invent new traditions. Ask yourself, “What is the best story I can tell about myself during this time?” or “How can I look at this from a different perspective?

Maybe it’s a story of gratitude, of appreciating the everyday occurrences that may seem ordinary but are born of other’s generous efforts: expressing appreciation to your physician, who fit you into a busy schedule; saying “thanks” the guy at the deli counter who made your sandwich. Gratitude, in fact, nurtures our well-being. 

Maybe it’s a story of perspective, of acknowledging your strength in moving through the pandemic, as difficult as it has been: surviving the loneliness of lockdown, adapting to technology being your sole connection to others for months, adjusting to economic downturns. You might not have the perspective of other generations, but you can reflect on how it may look different a few years down the road. 

Maybe it’s a story of creativity— celebrating the creation of a pleasant workspace on your kitchen table or in the corner of your bedroom; designing ways to stay socially connected even as you and your loved ones were physically distancing. 

Maybe it’s a story of something new— cooking for your family, learning to play chess, taking a Zoom course at a museum.  A friend of ours, Lilly, told one of us that she and her peers shared good wishes at a virtual anniversary bash.  While it wasn’t the in-person they had planned, it turned out to be special in its own way. 

Maybe it’s a story of learning about yourself.  Maybe you tuned into what you needed to do for yourself to feel a sense of well-being despite the chaos or uncertainty around you: deep breathing, exercise, connecting with friends. 

The reality of our lives may not be what we want it to be right now, but we owe it to ourselves—and our health—to make the best of things. We owe it to ourselves to create that new narrative. 

So much of growing up and growing older feels like getting on a conveyor belt, or an amusement park ride: stay seated with your eyes forward, hands inside the car, and everything will be okay.

The bad news is that the ride is broken, and it has been for a while. The good news is that the entire world is still yours to explore, and there are endless ways that you can take control of the direction of the story of your life and decide how you will be in the world as it exists now.

What will your story be? 

Robin Stern, Ph.D.  is the co-founder and associate director of the Yale Center for Emotional Intelligence, a psychoanalyst in private practice and the author of The Gaslight Effect.  

Cecily Lipton is a researcher with a deep interest in the intersection of psychology and health care. She is a high school senior in New York City. 

Marc Brackett, Ph.D. is the founding director of the Yale Center for Emotional Intelligence, a professor in the Child Study Center at Yale and the author of Permission to Feel. 


changing america copyright.