When Growth Feels Like Grief
We often think of growth as light-filled and forward-moving—stepping into the new, rising into our potential, becoming our best selves.
And yes, growth can be all of that.
But what we don’t talk about enough is the grief that can come with it.
Because when we grow, we don’t just gain—we also let go.
And letting go, even of things that no longer serve us, can feel a lot like loss.
The grief of healing
Maybe you’re letting go of a coping mechanism that once kept you safe.
Maybe you're stepping away from a version of you who was always achieving, always available, always pleasing.
Maybe you're no longer reacting the way you used to, and even though that’s a good thing… it still feels unfamiliar.
That’s the part we don’t always expect. That grief can show up not just for people or relationships, but for versions of ourselves.
For identities we clung to.
For patterns that were comfortable—even if they hurt.
For routines that defined us, even if they drained us.
Identity shifts can feel disorienting
When you begin to heal, grow, or change your patterns, there's often a subtle (or not so subtle) identity crisis underneath.
Who am I if I’m not the “strong one”?
Who am I if I no longer hustle to feel worthy?
What if I don’t feel like myself anymore?
These are tender, important questions. And they’re not signs you’re doing it wrong—they’re signs you’re in the process of becoming.
Transitions are meant to feel shaky.
You are dissolving an old shape, before the new one fully forms.
That in-between? It’s raw. It’s real. It’s messy.
And yes, sometimes it hurts.
This is normal. You’re not going backwards.
You might find yourself doubting the path:
“I thought I’d feel better by now.”
“Why am I crying about something I chose to walk away from?”
“Shouldn’t I feel more free?”
But grief doesn’t mean you made the wrong choice.
It just means you're human.
And you’re moving through something that mattered.
Growth doesn’t always feel good in the moment. Sometimes it feels like confusion, exhaustion, heartbreak, or loneliness.
That’s not failure. That’s transition.
How to Hold Yourself Through This
When grief and growth start to blur, here are a few simple practices that can help you move through the heaviness—without rushing yourself through it.
Name what you’re letting go of
Write it down. Say it out loud. Acknowledge the version of you (or the habits, roles, beliefs) that you’re saying goodbye to. Naming it helps you honour it.
Let yourself feel without justifying
You don’t need a “good enough” reason to feel how you feel. Emotions don’t need permission. Let yourself cry, feel heavy, or nostalgic—without needing to explain it.
Start a “what’s shifting” list
Note small things you’re noticing about your thoughts, energy, or behaviour. This can help you track the subtle growth that’s happening beneath the surface, even when it doesn’t feel obvious.
Practice rituals of transition
That could be as simple as lighting a candle, going for a walk, or playing a song that marks the end of a chapter. Rituals help your body and mind process that something meaningful is changing.
Seek softness, not solutions
You don’t need to fix this moment—you just need to move through it. Focus on what feels comforting, kind, and nourishing. Let that be enough for now.
Holding yourself gently through change
If you're in the messy middle—between who you were and who you're becoming—know this:
You don’t need to rush to the “after.”
You don’t need to explain your feelings away.
You don’t need to be grateful yet.
You just need to be with yourself, gently.
Let the tears come.
Let the quiet moments linger.
Let yourself feel what’s true—without fixing it right away.
That tenderness you offer yourself? That is the growth.
You’re not breaking down. You’re unfolding.
It’s okay if this feels like grief.
It’s okay if you're mourning who you used to be.
It’s okay if this growth feels more like falling apart than glowing up.
You’re shedding what no longer fits.
You’re creating space for what’s next.
You’re becoming more you.
And that?
That’s something beautiful.
