Letting Go of the Comeback Story

By Michelle Labine PhD

May 20, 2025

Everyone loves a good comeback story! Me too! So much so, I lived it on repeat for decades.

You know the one: The dramatic arc. The rock bottom. The triumphant return.

It was well worth the struggle if it ends in transformation—preferably the kind that’s shiny, fast, and inspirational.

I used to hold onto that story too.
Here’s how mine went: If I could just push through the hard part—burnout, grief, fatigue, dysregulation—I’d emerge stronger, more focused, more balanced, more everything.

What If the Goal Isn’t Coming Back?

For many of us—especially late-diagnosed Autistic and AuDHD women, what we’re recovering from isn’t a one-time crisis. It’s decades of masking, adapting, pushing, performing. It’s systems that rewarded us for suppressing our needs and punished us for showing our full selves.

So, when we finally begin to unravel that survival mode, we often imagine that our reward will be some new, improved version of ourselves. More organized. Less exhausted. Still productive—but in a “healthier” way.

But, what if we’re not meant to return to the high-functioning version of ourselves?
What if that version was never sustainable in the first place?

The Myth of the Comeback

The comeback story assumes:

You’ll bounce back stronger
You’ll return to who you were—only better
You’ll use your pain to fuel a new level of success

But what if your nervous system doesn’t want to bounce?
What if it wants to settle?
To move slowly. To stay quiet. To stop chasing the next version of you.

So many of us stay stuck in recovery mode because we’re still measuring our healing by a standard that’s no longer relevant to our lives.

Letting Go Means Making Space

Letting go of the comeback story is not about giving up. I’ll repeat that. It is not about giving up.
It means asking a different set of questions:

What do I want now—not what I wanted before I burned out?
Who am I when I stop performing competence?
What rhythms feel good in my body—not just in my planner?
What am I allowed to release—not just recover?

Maybe the point of this season isn’t to “rise” but to root.
To build a life that no longer requires you to recover from it.

Things I’m Not Coming Back To

This is a reflection I return to often. A quiet inventory of what no longer fits. A letting go of the things that once helped me survive, but now keep me from thriving.

I’m not coming back to…

Pushing through exhaustion just to meet an expectation I didn’t agree to
Mistaking busyness for meaning
Explaining or justifying my limits
Shrinking my needs to fit someone else’s comfort
Performance-masking in places that don’t feel safe
Believing that rest must be earned
The idea that my worth is measured by output, consistency, or energy

These are my boundaries. They are the new agreements I’m making with myself so I don’t have to keep breaking open just to be seen as strong.

Letting go of the comeback story is a reclamation.

It’s saying: I am allowed to rebuild on new terms.
I am allowed to heal without a performance attached.
I am allowed to be enough, even if my life looks nothing like the one I left behind.

This isn’t the climax of a movie.
It’s my life. My rhythm. My story.

No comeback required.

Are you ready to let go of the comeback story?

Reflection Questions:

What parts of myself have I been trying to “come back” to?
What expectations have I internalized about what healing is “supposed” to look like?
What does my nervous system actually need right now?
Where am I still measuring progress by old standards that no longer serve me?
What would it look like to root, rather than rise, in this season of my life?
What rhythms, relationships, or routines am I not coming back to? why?
What might unfold if I allowed becoming to be the goal, instead of bouncing back?