I’ve been sitting with this thing I read recently. 

“Change is necessary, and it is rarely gentle.”

I love the idea of growth. The breakthrough moments, the clarity and the “after.”

But the practice of it? The actual changing part. That part is uncomfortable. And the fear and anxiety that is associated with that often causes me to delay the change I want or need. 

It asks me to loosen my grip on what feels familiar, even when what’s familiar once felt like the safest thing in the world.

Psychologists call it “transition stress.” 

Research by William Bridges, who studied human transitions for decades, reminds us that change is not just about starting something new. It is about ending something old.

Endings, even healthy ones, can bring grief. Not because something was bad. But because it mattered.

A study in The Journal of Social and Personal Relationships found that many of our relationships are seasonal, tied to shared environments, roles or aspects of ourselves. When we grow, heal or move in a different direction, the relationship may naturally shift or fade. That does not make it a failure. It makes it honest.

Or as poet Rainer Maria Rilke put it, “Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves.”

Some people are answers for a chapter. Some are questions that teach us how to keep going.

The hard part and the thing I am still learning?

It is okay to thank people without asking them to stay forever.

It is okay to honor what was real without forcing it to continue past its season.

It is okay to release someone with gratitude instead of resentment.

Neuroscience backs this up, too. Our brains are wired to resist loss because familiarity equates to safety. Letting go can feel like danger, even when it is actually a sign of growth. That is why the work feels heavy in the body, not just the heart.

I do not believe people leave because they did not matter to us. 

I believe many leave because they mattered exactly as long as they were meant to.

As I am in this season of change, quietly outgrowing rooms I once fit into. 

I have to be gentle with myself. Reminding myself I am not ungrateful. I am just learning how to carry love forward without carrying everything with it.

I am thankful for the chapter. 

But I also have to turn the page. 

Becoming who I am meant to be sometimes means releasing who I needed to be before.