Future Me, Are You Listening?

How do I cope with change and why is it so difficult?

Change is an inevitable part of life, yet it remains one of the most daunting experiences we face. For me, change has woven itself into the fabric of my existence, becoming a familiar yet uncomfortable companion. I've moved frequently, shifting back and forth to new towns, leaving friends and family behind with each transition. I've watched cherished connections fade into memories and felt the weight of loss in countless forms—like when my childhood cat disappeared from my life when I was just eleven, a profound heartache that still lingers today. I've lost love, too, each departure echoing the reality that change is not just a disruption; it's often a source of deep pain.

But why is change so hard? What is it about the unfamiliar that triggers such profound anxiety and discomfort within us?

At its core, change disrupts our sense of stability. Our brains thrive on predictability, relying on established patterns to navigate the world. When we experience change, our brains are forced to work harder, recalibrating and reassessing the new landscape before us. This can evoke feelings of fear and insecurity. Psychologically, our tendency to resist change is rooted in our survival instincts. For early humans, consistency meant safety; unexpected shifts in environment or circumstance could lead to danger. This evolutionary legacy remains imprinted in our minds today, causing us to view change as a potential threat.

In my own life, the impact of frequent moves has been profound. Each time I packed my belongings and left behind familiar places, faces, and routines, I felt an unsettling combination of excitement and dread. The thrill of new beginnings was often overshadowed by the pain of leaving behind those I cared about. With each departure, I carried the weight of unresolved emotions, the burden of nostalgia, and the fear of what lay ahead. The cost of change felt high, and I often found myself wishing to retreat into the comforting embrace of familiarity.

Then there's the experience of losing my childhood cat. At eleven, I wasn't equipped to process such a loss. I remember the confusion and sadness that engulfed me, feelings I couldn't fully articulate. That moment marked a turning point in my understanding of loss. It was my first encounter with the stark reality that love and connection are fragile, and change can sever those bonds in an instant. This experience taught me that change is not only about new beginnings but also about endings—and that's a difficult duality to accept.

As I reflect on my relationships, I realize that love itself is an ever-changing entity. We invest our hearts into connections, only to see them evolve or fade. With every goodbye, I grapple with feelings of inadequacy and fear—fear that I am not enough to hold onto the people I love, that their departure reflects some failure on my part. This fear can be paralyzing, often leading me to avoid change altogether. I sometimes find myself clinging to relationships or situations that no longer serve me, out of a deep-seated desire to escape the uncertainty of the unknown.

This aversion to change is often linked to the concept of "loss aversion". Research in behavioral economics shows that people tend to prefer avoiding losses rather than acquiring equivalent gains. In other words, the pain of losing something we value weighs heavier on our minds than the potential benefits of a new opportunity. This bias can keep us stuck in familiar patterns, preventing us from embracing the growth that change can bring.

Biologically, our bodies also respond to change with a surge of stress hormones. When faced with uncertainty, our brain activates the amygdala, the area responsible for processing fear and emotional responses. This activation can lead to a fight-or-flight reaction, making us more likely to withdraw from change rather than confront it. I can recall countless moments where I felt that familiar knot in my stomach, my heart racing at the thought of new beginnings or the possibility of loss. In those moments, I often found myself retreating into a shell, seeking comfort in what I knew, even if it wasn't fulfilling.

So, how do I cope with change? The truth is, I am still learning. I've discovered that acknowledging my feelings is the first step toward navigating the tumultuous waters of change. Allowing myself to feel the pain, the fear, and the uncertainty can be cathartic. It's important to remember that it's okay to grieve what has been lost while also being open to the possibilities that lie ahead.

One strategy I've embraced is to focus on the concept of adaptability. Life has taught me that while I may not be able to control change, I can control how I respond to it. Embracing a mindset of growth allows me to view challenges as opportunities for personal development. When I find myself in a new situation, I try to approach it with curiosity rather than dread. This shift in perspective transforms the narrative from one of fear to one of discovery.

Another vital aspect of coping with change is leaning on my support system. I've learned the importance of nurturing relationships and seeking solace in the people who care about me. Sharing my fears and uncertainties with trusted friends or family members not only alleviates some of the emotional weight but also fosters a sense of connection. It reminds me that I am not alone in my struggles, that others, too, face the trials of change.

Ultimately, change is a constant in our lives, and learning to navigate it is an ongoing journey. I remind myself that while change may be uncomfortable, it is also an opportunity for growth and transformation. Each transition shapes who I am, sculpting my identity in ways I may not yet fully understand.

To my past self, I want to say this: It's okay to fear change. It's okay to grieve what you have lost. You are allowed to feel the weight of these emotions. But remember, change does not signify the end; it often heralds a new beginning. Embrace the discomfort, lean into the unknown, and trust that with every ending, there is a new chapter waiting to unfold.