Why I Have a Death Plan in My Early 30’s

People usually pause when I tell them I have a death plan.

Not in a dramatic way. More in a polite, “oh… that’s… interesting” way. I can almost hear the internal what the fuck, the same tone people use when I tell them that I labelled my spice jars.

I’m in my early thirties. I’m not especially worried about dying tomorrow. On the odd chance it were to happen, I have a plan…and honestly, it just feels practical.

I didn’t make a death plan because I’m morbid (ok, maybe a little). I made one because I’ve seen what happens when people don’t have one.

When someone dies without any plans, the people who love them are left guessing. What would they have wanted? Who should decide? Where are the documents? What about their pet? Their phone? Their stuff (trust me, you accumulate a lot of shit in this lifetime)? Suddenly, on one of the worst days of their life, everyone is also trying to become a detective and a project manager.

Grief is already heavy. Adding logistics and uncertainty on top of it is brutal.

You’re probably wondering, what exactly is a death plan? A death plan differs from a will. It covers things people don’t always think about: what you’d want at the end of your life, who should take your prized collection of Beanie Babies that’s been sitting in your mom’s basement for the last decade, do you want certain music playing on your way out of this world, whether you want a funeral or something quieter, those types of things. It’s not about controlling everything; it’s about giving the people you love fewer impossible choices to make while they’re in shock.

I like to think of it the same way as travel insurance. I don’t buy it because I’m planning on getting food poisoning in another country. I buy it in case something goes wrong, I’m not dealing with chaos on top of stress.

It’s not pessimistic, morbid, or dark. It’s considerate.



For me, a death plan isn’t a thick binder. It’s clear choices written down and verbally shared with the people who would need them. That’s it.

There’s also something quietly clarifying about writing this stuff down. When you have to think about your last moments and who you’d want beside you at the end of your life, you get very honest about who and what matters. It has a way of cutting through a lot of noise and puts life into perspective.

So no, having a death plan doesn’t mean I’m expecting the worst. It just means I’m the kind of person who brings snacks and a charger, just in case.

Hopefully, I won’t need it for a very long time. But if I do, the people in my life won’t be left guessing.



With care,

Niki