The Hidden Grief Within Life Transitions
Author: Sarita Gulati, LMSW
A theme I've found myself returning to again and again with clients this summer is change and the grief that can accompany it. Whether it's a move, a career shift, the end of a relationship, or the beginning of a new chapter, many people are surprised by how painful even welcome change can feel.
As I navigate a season of change in my own life, I’ve been reflecting on how what we're grieving is often deeper than the external event itself. More often than not, transition is not just about grieving a place, relationship, or chapter. We're also grieving an identity, a way of being, or even a way we hoped things would be. This perspective has changed the way I think about grief and change altogether. If you're moving through a major life transition, here are three things to think about along the way.
You may be grieving an identity, not just the change itself.
Building a life that feels more authentic to you is grief work. Each time we begin a new chapter, we are asked to make peace with and say goodbye to an old one. This can bring up feelings of grief and loss—not only for the change itself, but for the version of ourselves that existed in that chapter.
Identity shifts can be overt—you might take on a new leadership role at work or become a spouse or parent—but they can also be more subtle. When we lose a relationship, we may grieve who we got to be with that person. When we leave a job, we may grieve the sense of identity or purpose it provided. When we move, we may grieve the version of ourselves and experiences we had in that place.
Amidst any of these changes, we might also grieve who these versions of ourselves could have been had things gone differently. If you’re experiencing a major change in your life, a few questions worth asking might be: Which parts of your identity is this transition asking you to outgrow? Which parts of your identity are you being invited to step into?
Grief and joy can coexist.
When we navigate change, grief can feel like existing in a void. You’re not the person you were, but you’re not yet the person you’ll be next. You just are. It feels uncomfortable and raw (and slightly magical if you squint). Part of what makes this in-between space difficult and painful is the expectation that it shouldn’t feel this way. In my work with clients, we’ll often discover a belief that, if a new door is opening or we’re pursuing something more aligned with who we are, we “should” feel excited and happy. But transitions are rarely that straightforward.
Grief, sadness, excitement, joy, hope, fear, anger. It’s normal for all these emotions to coexist, especially when life feels uncertain. In times of transition, we’re usually being asked to hold space for all of these feelings at once.
Heavier or conflicting emotions aren’t a sign that you’re on the wrong track. In fact, they can be a marker of growth and acceptance—proof that you're allowing yourself to fully love and process what you’ve had while you make room for what's next.
Change requires us to loosen our grip.
One of the hardest parts of navigating transition is that we can make considered, intentional choices and still not know where they will lead us. We often think embracing change means consistently choosing the option that will make us feel happier or more fulfilled. That might still be one’s ultimate goal.
But moving forward is rarely about finding the "right" choice. It’s about being willing to choose something new, imperfections and all, and embracing the experience itself rather than trying to guarantee an outcome. That shift requires a different kind of courage. It asks us to participate in our lives without demanding certainty first.
We can take the next step, make thoughtful decisions, and move toward what feels authentic and meaningful, but we'll never have complete control over how the story unfolds. In many ways, change invites us to loosen our grip on certainty and trust that we can meet whatever comes next.
If you’re in the middle of a transition right now, notice where you feel the urge to control, rush, or dismiss your own experience. Maybe the invitation is to get curious about where the next step leads and who you get to become when you take it.