Hey You, Who’s Still Very Much Alive: Write Your Damn Obituary

Yeah, I said it. Write your own obituary. Not because you’re morbid. Not because you’re being dramatic. But because it’s yours!  Your story, your weird quirks, your inside jokes, your favorite snacks, your hard-won wisdom. Why would you leave that up to someone else to cobble together while they’re knee-deep in casseroles and funeral brochures?

Writing your own obituary isn’t about giving up. It’s about claiming the mic before the final curtain. It’s an act of rebellion against erasure. It’s also a surprisingly powerful way to get real with yourself while you’re still here to do something about it.

::Cue Shia LaBeouf screaming “JUST DO IT!”::

Why You Should Write Your Obituary While You’re Still Breathing

1. It’s the ultimate reflection exercise.
Forget goal-setting journals and vision boards for a second. Writing your own obit forces you to answer the big stuff: Who are you, really? What have you actually done with your time? What do you hope people remember? It’s like Marie Kondo-ing your life!  Keep the stuff that sparks legacy, toss the rest.

2. You get to own your narrative.
Listen, if you don’t write it, your third cousin or your frazzled spouse might, between grief spirals and figuring out who’s bringing the deviled eggs to the wake. And they’ll probably leave out the weird and wonderful stuff that makes you you. Like how you once convinced your entire office to wear Halloween costumes in March. Or how you taught your kids to swear responsibly. Or how you cried every time you heard “Moon River.”  (I will not apologize for this)

3. It’s a gift to your people.
Grief is already heavy. Trying to summarize a person in three paragraphs while sobbing into Kleenex is cruel and unusual punishment. Writing your own saves them that pain. It gives them something to hold onto, a bit of your voice in the middle of the fog.

How to Actually Do It

First off: No, writing your obituary does not mean you’re going to die tomorrow. But it does mean you’re living with intention today.

Here’s how to start:

Step 1: Say the boring stuff first.
Get it out of the way. Name, birth date, where you were raised, family stuff. You can jazz it up later if you want (“Born under a Sagittarius moon in a blizzard, which explains a lot”). Note: BE CAREFUL ABOUT SECURE INFORMATION.  Identity theft of the deceased is stupid, but happens a lot.

Step 2: Talk about your people.
Who loved you? Who did you love? (Yes, include your cat if she’s been your ride-or-die since 2009.)

Step 3: Brag a little.
What are you proud of? Could be the business you built, the garden you obsessed over, or that time you won $50 at trivia night for knowing all the Spice Girls’ real names. (That counts.)

Step 4: Tell the truth.
Were you flawed? Good. Own it. Did you try anyway? Even better. Don’t write a LinkedIn summary. Write something that sounds like the real you. If you were a pain in the ass but also deeply loyal, say that.  (Hi.  I’m a pan in the ass)

Step 5: Leave a message.
This is the part people will cling to. Offer a line of comfort. A joke. A curse on whoever keeps mispronouncing your name. Or something tender, like “Love fiercely, nap often, and never turn down cookies.”

Real Talk

You don’t need to finish it today. You don’t need to make it perfect. Just start. Open a Google Doc. Jot notes on a napkin. Talk it out into your phone like a voice memo from the beyond.  Heck, have Chat GPT get you started.

Because one day, someone will look for your words. They’ll need them. And if you’ve written them down, raw and real and fully you, you’ll be offering something sacred: a map back to who you were. And a nudge toward who they might still become.

So go on. Write it while you’re alive enough to laugh about it.

And if it helps? Start it like this:
“[Your Name] died as they lived—surrounded by snacks, strong opinions, and at least one half-finished project.”

Question to Ponder:
If someone read your obituary tomorrow, would it sound like the life you meant to live? If not, what’s one small change you can make today to start living it on purpose?

Need help writing yours? Reach out! I can help.