Embracing Change

There is a particular moment I have learned to recognize. Sometimes it arrives with fanfare, and sometimes it comes quietly: the moment when you find yourself standing on a threshold. Behind you is everything familiar – everything you have built, loved, and worked so hard for. Ahead of you is something you cannot yet name. You feel both the pull of what lies ahead and the weight of what you are leaving behind. Gratitude, sadness, fear, and a profound sense of being alive all coexist at once.

I have stood on that threshold many times. And I have learned that this feeling – this ache – is not a warning sign or a threat. It is a sign that something meaningful is happening.

WHY DOES CHANGE FEEL LIKE LOSS (EVEN WHEN IT IS A GOOD THING)?

Science confirms what our hearts have always suspected: human beings are wired for stability. Our brains, shaped by millions of years of evolution, interpret the familiar as safe and the unknown as a potential threat. Research by psychologist Mahzarin Banaji shows that our implicit beliefs and unconscious biases keep pulling us back toward what we already know – because that is precisely what our nervous system was designed to do.

This means that even positive change – a promotion, moving to a new city, selling a business, watching your child leave for university – is registered by the body as a disruption of its usual routine. Your brain does not yet know that this particular uncertainty is good. It only knows that it is unfamiliar.

What makes this even harder is that our resistance to change is rarely rational. Intellectually, we understand that growth requires movement. Yet research from the American Psychological Association (APA) consistently shows that we often prefer the discomfort we know over the uncertainty we don’t. We choose familiar discomfort over unfamiliar possibility.

Neuropsychologist and change researcher Robert Waldinger puts it simply: accepting that our identity is not fixed is essential if we want to stop fearing change. We are not static beings. We are living, evolving ones.

BITTERSWEET IS NOT A MISTAKE

There is one word I keep returning to whenever I think about life’s major transitions: bittersweet.

Nostalgia – from the Greek nostos (return home) and algos (pain) – was once classified as a medical illness, a dangerous form of longing. Today, researchers understand it much more subtly: as a complex emotional experience that helps us maintain a sense of continuity even as our circumstances change.

What distinguishes nostalgia from ordinary sadness is precisely its duality. As psychologist Krystine Batcho explains, nostalgia helps preserve our sense of self across time. When we grieve what we are leaving behind, we are not being weak – we are honoring the meaning of what we created.

The past brought us genuine joy. Genuine connection. Genuine purpose. The fact that it now belongs behind us does not diminish its value. As researchers describe it, nostalgia is “sweet because its object once brought pleasure… and bitter because that object has been lost.”

A 2025 study published in Cognition & Emotion adds another layer to this picture: over time, nostalgic memories do not simply fade – they gradually become infused with gratitude. Regret may surface. Loneliness may emerge. But so does a quiet, enduring sense of thankfulness. And that, too, is part of what it means to live a full life.

I find great comfort in that. Pain is not something to fix. It is something to feel – and then, gently, carry forward.

HOW DO WE ACTUALLY EMBRACE CHANGE (WITHOUT TOXIC POSITIVITY)?

There is a difference between accepting change and merely pretending to.

Here is what the research suggests actually helps.

1. NAME THE EMOTION INSTEAD OF RUNNING FROM IT

Research in positive psychology shows that suppressing or bypassing difficult emotions during periods of transition often backfires. What helps is what psychologist Susan David calls emotional agility – the ability to acknowledge what you are feeling without becoming consumed by it. Naming sadness, anxiety, or grief is not weakness. It is the beginning of moving forward.

2. CULTIVATE PSYCHOLOGICAL FLEXIBILITY

APA research shows that people who intentionally develop flexibility in the face of change become more resilient – not only psychologically, but physiologically as well.

This does not mean pretending everything is fine. It means building a greater tolerance for uncertainty. Being willing to embrace new perspectives, new people, and new situations – not because you have to, but because this practice strengthens your capacity to meet whatever life brings next.

3. SEE DISCOMFORT AS A SIGNAL OF GROWTH

Physiologically, anxiety and excitement are remarkably similar: the same stress hormones, the same racing heart. What differs is the story we tell ourselves about those sensations.

Research shows that interpreting nervousness as excitement rather than fear meaningfully improves both performance and emotional experience. Discomfort is not evidence that you are doing something wrong. It is evidence that you are growing.

4. LET NOSTALGIA BE A BRIDGE, NOT AN ANCHOR

Research published in Frontiers in Psychology suggests that nostalgia, when used wisely, actually helps people adapt during times of transition. It reconnects us with our deepest values and reinforces our sense of meaning by linking who we were with who we are becoming.

Look back with tenderness. Just don’t stay there forever.

THE COMFORT ZONE IS SOMETHING OF A MYTH

Safety often costs more than we realize. Research shows that challenges directly stimulate neuroplasticity. When we step into unfamiliar territory, our brains literally begin building new neural pathways. The discomfort we experience is much like the soreness after exercise – it is evidence that something is becoming stronger.

The Yerkes–Dodson law, one of psychology’s foundational findings, tells us that performance improves with moderate levels of arousal – but only up to a point. Too little challenge, and we stagnate. Too much, and we become overwhelmed. Real growth happens in that middle ground – just beyond what feels comfortable, but still within reach of what we believe ourselves capable of.

Research also makes something else very clear, and life has taught me the same lesson: sustainable growth is not about living in constant discomfort. It requires rhythm. Challenge and recovery. Courage and rest. Our nervous system needs both. Growth without time to consolidate eventually leads to burnout rather than flourishing. This is not an invitation to avoid difficulty. It is an invitation to approach it wisely.

A FINAL THOUGHT ABOUT IDENTITY

Perhaps the deepest lesson I have learned is this: after significant change, we are no longer quite the same people we were before.

Waldinger’s work on identity suggests that those who navigate life’s biggest transitions with grace understand that the self is not a fixed object. It is a living, evolving story. They know that selling a business does not erase what they built. That a child leaving home does not diminish the relationship. That beginning something new is not a betrayal of what came before.

Change does not erase who you were. It simply adds another chapter.

WHAT I AM TAKING WITH ME

I have stood on many thresholds. I have felt the bittersweet weight of endings and the frightening uncertainty of beginnings. And slowly, imperfectly, I have learned that the threshold itself is never the destination. It is simply the moment when everything depends on whether you are willing to take the next step.

Science has shown us that growth lives where change begins. Bittersweet feelings are not a sign that something has gone wrong – they are proof that what you are leaving behind truly mattered. And the discomfort you feel is simply evidence that your brain is building a new version of you.

So do not be afraid of the pain.

Honor what has been.

And then, gently and courageously, open the door to what comes next.