Career & Business Coaching Blog for Creatives & Entrepreneurs.
Inspiration, guidance, and practical strategies for multi-passionate professionals who refuse to choose just one thing.
Feeling Lost in Life? Here's Why (And What to Do Next)
Feeling lost in life isn't a sign something's wrong with you, it's often a sign something big is shifting. Here's why it tends to feel the hardest during major transitions, and a real way through it, not around it.
Feeling lost in life isn't, as it may feel, a sign that something has gone wrong with you. Most of the time, it's a sign that something big is already in motion, just before you can see which direction it's taking you. I know that's a hard thing to hear when you're in the middle of it, because feeling lost doesn't feel like movement. It feels like standing still with no map, no compass, and no idea which way is forward. I know, believe me, I’ve been there.
I'm Murielle Marie, a career and business coach for creatives, entrepreneurs, and creative generalists. I've felt properly, totally lost more than once in my life, and those times remain the most defining moments I've ever had. If you're in that place right now, where the ground you used to stand on isn't there anymore, and you don't know what you want or where to go next, I want to walk you through why that happens and what actually helps.
Why Feeling Lost Feels Hardest During Big Transitions
For me, it's always the big transitions, professional or personal, where this shows up. And mine tend to be big, because I tend to think big. The biggest one by far: my parents dying five weeks apart from each other in 2010.
I didn't feel grief in the tidy, expected shape people describe. And I wasn’t prepared for what I would have to go through. It was beyond anything I could ever have imagined or even put into words. What I actually felt was a total abyss, a darkness from the time I woke up to the time I went to sleep (if or when I was able to). During the day, that translated into a total inability to focus. Not sadness that felt familiar. No, this was different, a complete blank where direction used to be. In the first days and weeks, I was lucky I didn’t have to remember to breathe, because even that would have been impossible. As the weeks turned into months, I no longer knew what I wanted. I had no clue where I should go, professionally or personally. The internal GPS that had guided every decision up to that point had simply gone dark, because most of what I had done until then was trying to please my parents and live up to who I thought they wanted me to be (I've written before about the career-purpose side of that same year, when the question shifted from what should I do with my life to something much more basic. This post is about the lost feeling itself, underneath that question.)
That gaping emptiness you feel, between the person you were operating as and the person you actually are once the thing that guided your life is gone, is what psychologist Erik Erikson was describing when he coined the term identity crisis. A recent Psychology Today piece on this clarifies: feeling lost isn't a failure; it's a sign you're in motion, shedding one version of yourself before you've fully stepped into the next one. You're not behind. You're mid-transformation, and transformation doesn't come with a map. Or easy, for that matter.
The "Dark Night of the Soul" Isn't Just a Poetic Phrase
There's an old term for this specific kind of loss: the dark night of the soul. It sounds dramatic, maybe even a little woo, but it describes something real and specific: a period where an old identity comes apart faster than a new one can form, and meaning itself disintegrates. That is what I went through for about 18 months after my parent’s sudden passing. Therapist Annie Wright writes about this in trauma recovery work, describing it as the dismantling of the adapted self, the version of you built by survival needs rather than by what you actually want.
That distinction mattered enormously to me. My dark night wasn't depression, even though from the outside it might have looked like it was. What was happening was that, every time I thought I had reached the bottom of my pain, there was another, deeper pain waiting for me. Depression tends to be a closed, more static state. What I was in was dynamic, disorienting, and, it turned out, headed somewhere. It just didn't feel like it at the time, because nothing about being lost feels like it makes sense.
There's a name I find useful for the specific stretch I was in: transitions theorist William Bridges called it the neutral zone, the psychological space between an ending and a new beginning that can feel disorienting and empty, and strangely fertile, at the same time. From Meridian University's overview of liminal space in psychology: it's exactly the period when the old structure has dissolved, and the new one hasn't formed yet, and it's so uncomfortable precisely because that's the condition transformation needs to happen at all.
Here's what I want you to actually take from this: the depth of feeling lost is often proportional to the size of what's dismantling underneath it, not a measure of how broken you are. The bigger the shift, the more total the blankness can feel. That's not a bad sign, either; it’s telling you something major is happening.
What Actually Changed Things (It Wasn't a Plan)
I didn't think my way out of being lost. There was no five-step plan, no vision board, no morning routine that fixed it (and for the record, I love a good routine, a vision board, and a five-step plan). What actually happened is that I let the question exist for a while without trying to answer it. Who am I, now that the life I knew is gone? What do I actually want, underneath everything I'd been doing because I was expected to?
Eventually, slowly, that total absence of direction, that emptiness, became the exact thing that pointed me somewhere new. The dark night of the soul became my liberation. It's the reason I became a coach, not despite getting lost, but because of it. I had to lose every inherited dream before I could hear what I actually wanted underneath them, and once I could hear it, I wanted to help other people find that same thread in themselves, faster and with more support than I had. I've gone back to that same underlying question more than once since; I even wrote about the practice I use now to find myself again whenever something shifts enough that I need it.
If you're a generalist or multi-passionate person, this loss of direction can feel even harder, because you likely don't have one single thread to follow back; you have several, and losing your ground can mean temporarily losing touch with all of them at once. That's exactly the gap my Get Unstuck in Your Career guide is built for: naming where you're actually stuck before you try to force an answer you're not ready to have yet. It's also exactly what a coaching conversation is good for: having someone else help you see the thread you can't quite see yourself.
What to Actually Do When You're Feeling Lost
A few things that helped, based on what moved me through it and what I now walk clients through in the same place:
Stop trying to figure out the destination before you take a step. You don't need the whole map. You need the next action, even a small, uncertain one.
Separate the practical stuff from your identity. "What should I do for work" and "who am I without the thing I used to do" are two different questions, and answering the first one doesn't require solving the second one first.
Get support instead of trying to do it alone. This is not a solo-journaling problem, even though journaling helps. A dark night of the soul is heavy enough that carrying it entirely by yourself slows the whole process down. I couldn’t, and you don’t have to either.
Watch for the first small "want" that resurfaces, and take it seriously, even if it seems too small or unrelated to "fix" anything. Mine started as nothing more than noticing I actually started to want to do things again.
Expect it to take longer than feels reasonable. This isn't a weekend reset. Give it the actual time a true identity shift requires, not the timeline your old, adapted self thinks is acceptable. In my case, it took the better part of 18 months, and looking back, I really needed that time to become the new version of myself.
Today, my life is entirely different from what it was so many years ago. But without hesitation, I can say that if it weren’t for this difficult part I went through, I wouldn't be living the happy, expansive, adventurous, and creative life I’m living now. So don’t be afraid of change and transformation; instead, use it as an opportunity for growth.
Common Questions About Feeling Lost in Life
Why do I feel lost in life?
Usually because something that used to organize your decisions - a role, a relationship, a routine, a version of yourself - has changed or disappeared, and a new sense of direction hasn't formed yet to replace it. Feeling lost is the gap between those two states, not a sign of personal failure.
Is it normal to feel lost in life?
Yes, and it's far more common during major transitions than people tend to admit out loud. It often shows up after a loss, a career change, a relationship ending, or any shift big enough to dismantle the identity you'd built around what just changed.
What should I do when I feel lost and don't know what I want?
Resist the urge to force a full answer immediately. Start with small actions instead of a finished plan, get real support instead of carrying it alone, and pay attention to the first small want that resurfaces; it's usually the thread back to yourself, even if it doesn't look like much at first.
How long does feeling lost usually last?
Longer than feels comfortable, and there's no fixed timeline, because it depends on how much is actually dismantling underneath the feeling. Give it real time rather than measuring it against how quickly you think you "should" be over it.
Ready to Find Your Way Back to Yourself?
If you're in the middle of feeling lost right now, you don't need to have it figured out before you reach out. Some of the most important clarity I've ever gotten came from talking it through with someone else, not from solving it alone in my own head.
A free coaching session isn't about handing you a five-year plan. It's about naming where you actually are, right now, so the next step stops feeling impossible. Book your free session and let's find the thread back to you.