“The Quiet Grief of Transition: Honoring What Was So You Can Become What’s Next

Not all grief is loud.

Sometimes it’s a quiet ache in the chest.

A sense of being untethered.

A longing for something you can’t name.

I see this often, especially when people are moving through transitions. They might be leaving a job, retiring from a career, stepping away from an identity they've carried for years. Outwardly, they may be celebrating — but inside, there's a weight they don’t always understand.

It’s grief.

Not for a person, but for a version of themselves. For the structure, community, or purpose they once held. For the rhythm of a life that, whether they loved it or not, they knew how to navigate.

And it’s normal.

We talk about excitement and possibility during career and life transitions — and yes, those are real. But they often ride alongside unspoken sorrow. Because even when a change is chosen, it still requires letting go.

“Grief is praise, because it is the natural way love honors what it misses.” — Martín Prechtel

Hidden Grief Is Real Grief

This kind of grief doesn’t always get acknowledged. There’s no official goodbye, no public mourning. Yet it shows up in your energy. In your doubts. In your resistance to move forward.

That’s why naming it matters.

When you name your grief, you give it permission to move. When you honor what was, you create space for what could be.

How to Honor the Loss You Can’t Quite Name

Here are a few practices I often suggest to clients navigating these in-between places:

• Name the Unspoken Losses: Write down what you’re losing — not just roles, but routines, relationships, identities, even habits that once gave you a sense of stability.

• Create a Personal Ritual: Light a candle, go on a walk, hold a “farewell” ceremony for your old role. Ritual gives form to the invisible.

• Write a Thank You Letter to Your Past Self: Acknowledge all that version of you endured, built, created, held together. Say goodbye with compassion.

• Grieve Out Loud (Even If It’s Just to Yourself): Cry. Journal. Speak about

your loss to a friend, a coach, or your own reflection. Let it be heard.

The Gift in the Grief

What I’ve learned is this: hidden grief is not a weakness. It’s a sign you cared. That your past held meaning. That you were invested and engaged.

Grief isn’t something to “get over.” It’s something to move through — with tenderness and honesty.

Only then can you fully stand in the now — and walk toward what’s next with clarity.

So, if you're feeling a strange sadness in your transition, even amidst the excitement, pause. Listen to it. Honor it. That’s where healing begins.