How to cope when things go "pear-shaped"

Life doesn’t always go the way you planned it, does it? One minute you’re mapping out the future, thinking about the next job, the next project, the next holiday, the next chapter. Then something comes along and flips the table.

For me, that moment came with a diagnosis of young-onset dementia.

I’ll be honest with you. At first, it felt like the world had suddenly shrunk. The plans I had in my head didn’t just wobble a bit; they fell over completely. There’s a kind of grief that comes with that. Not just for what you’ve lost, but for the future you thought you were heading towards.

But here’s the thing I slowly learned. Life hasn’t stopped. It’s just changed direction.

When something big and difficult lands in your life, you’ve got two choices. You can spend all your energy staring at the closed doors, or you can start looking for the ones that are still open.

And there are always open doors, even if they’re smaller than the ones you expected.

Some days are harder than others, of course.

Dementia has a habit of throwing little surprises at you. A word that won’t come. A name that slips away. A task that used to be simple is suddenly taking twice as long. In those moments, it would be easy to get frustrated or to feel like the ground under your feet isn’t quite steady.

That’s when I remind myself of something simple. My value as a person hasn’t changed.

I’m still curious about the world. I still enjoy a laugh. I still care about people. I still have stories to tell and things to share. A diagnosis doesn’t erase the life you’ve lived or the person you’ve become.

One of the ways I cope is by focusing on what I can do, rather than what I can’t. That might sound like a small shift, but it makes a big difference. Instead of measuring myself against the past, I try to celebrate the present.

• If I write a blog that helps someone feel less alone, that’s a good day.

• If I make someone laugh in a workshop, that’s a good day.

• If I learn something new or help someone better understand dementia, that’s a very good day indeed.

Optimism isn’t about pretending everything is fine. It’s about recognising that even in difficult circumstances, life can still contain purpose, humour, and connection.

Humour helps a lot, by the way. If you can laugh at the odd moments dementia throws your way, it takes some of the sting out of them. Sometimes I’ll walk into a room and forget why I went there. Instead of getting cross with myself, I’ll just say, "Well, whatever it was it couldn't have been that urgent."

And then I carry on.

Another thing that helps is staying connected with people. When you talk openly about what you’re going through, something interesting happens. The world doesn’t get smaller. It actually gets bigger.

You meet people with compassion, creativity, and courage who remind you that you’re not alone.

Adversity has a funny way of revealing strengths you didn’t know you had. It pushes you to rethink what matters. For me, it’s made the small things shine brighter. A good conversation. A walk on a crisp morning. The feeling that something you’ve said or written might help someone else.

Those things have real value.

So when life doesn’t go the way you planned, don’t assume the story is over. It might just be turning into a different kind of story. One you never expected to write.

And sometimes, those unexpected stories turn out to be the most meaningful ones of all.