Transition is often painted as a clean turning point – a bold decision, a fresh start, a new chapter. But in reality, it rarely feels that clear.
It’s usually a period of time (a phase) that feels foggy, tiring, tender, and unsettling. You might feel unmotivated, disconnected, restless, and perhaps even unsure of who you are anymore.
This is the emotional texture of transition. And the hardest part? It doesn’t come with a clear timeline. You’re not quite who you were, but you’re not yet who you’re becoming. And that space can feel deeply uncomfortable.
A parallel can also be made with transitions that affect organisations, groups, and even entire countries, when things are different but still feel unsettled. In this series of articles, I’m focusing on personal transition. That said, you can absolutely use this reflection to explore broader, more collective shifts if that’s something you’re experiencing.
Common Life Transitions
We tend to expect big life changes to be dramatic. And sometimes they are. But they’re also often quiet and cumulative.
Some transitions are obvious:
- A job ending (or beginning)
- A breakup or a new relationship
- Moving house or country
- Becoming a parent
- Experiencing loss or bereavement
- Starting a business or shifting direction
- Retirement
Others are slower, more internal:
- Outgrowing a role, a routine, or a relationship
- Entering a new phase of life (menopause, midlife, turning 30/40/50)
- Redefining your priorities
- Recovering from burnout
Even collective shifts (political, financial, seasonal) can contribute to transition fatigue.
Why It Can Feel So Hard
As humans, we crave certainty and feel comforted by the familiar. Transition disrupts that because it brings change and often a loss of clarity, structure, or identity.
We lose the frameworks that once defined us – our routines don’t work, goals feel unclear, we start to question everything … including ourselves.
It’s not unusual to feel like you’re failing, when in reality, you’re simply in flux.
What makes it harder is that this space is often invisible to others. You may still show up, smile, meet deadlines, while internally wondering, what’s happening to me?
A More Compassionate Way Through
There’s no quick fix for transition. But because we’re wired to seek certainty, we often rush to try and find answers to feel safe and in control again.
The gentler path is recognising that you’re in a phase and that it will shift, in time. Here are some things that may help:
- Recognise it for what it is: not a failure, not a problem. It’s a phase.
- Surrender: try to sit with not knowing. A sense of trust can help ease the discomfort.
- Give yourself permission to pause: clarity comes after space, not before.
- Tend to the basics: nourishment, movement, sleep, connection.
- Avoid rushing to redefine: your identity will re-form naturally in time.
- Ask gently: what is this space asking of me?
The goal isn’t to escape the fog quickly, it’s to meet yourself with compassion while you’re in it. And to let it run its course while caring for yourself in the ways that matter most.
In time, things settle. They may not go back to how they were, but they often become something more aligned with who you’re becoming.
Of course, not all transitions feel hopeful, especially when the world around us feels chaotic or uncertain. But when it comes to your process, even discomfort can mark the beginning of something meaningful.
As cliché as it may sound, it’s like the caterpillar in the chrysalis – not yet a butterfly, but no longer what it was. And inside that stage? It’s not graceful or defined. It’s a sticky, gooey, unrecognisable kind of mess. And yet, transformation happens there.
What’s Next
In next week’s article, I’ll be answering a subscriber’s question about her recent experience of redundancy and how she’s been navigating the emotional fog and uncertainty that followed. We’ll explore how to stay steady in the in-between, and how to support yourself when life shifts before you feel ready.
Kate x
