a love letter to entering a new chapter
for anyone standing at a doorway, caught between the weight and wonder of what’s to come.
Crossing into a new chapter sounds exciting in theory, but in practice, it often unravels into a tapestry of excitement tinged with heaviness, joy laced with doubt. It’s that bittersweet reality where, instead of stepping boldly forward, we find ourselves dragging along the ghosts of our pasts, questioning whether the life ahead will hold what we truly need.
Change rarely arrives with confetti and fanfare.
More often than not, it feels heavy, painful, or strikingly unremarkable, even when we find ourselves in breathtaking places. We anticipate new chapters to magically transform us. Instead, it stirs up everything we thought we left behind. Feelings we have yet to make friends with.
The world urges us to be excited and to leap forward with unshakeable confidence, but there’s a quieter, subtler side to change. A grating whisper that calls us to sit with the unresolved. It challenges us to create space for the parts of ourselves that experience grief, sadness, and skepticism about the future.
Maybe it’s graduation day, where instead of just pride, you’re also hit by the ache of leaving familiar faces and routines behind. Or moving to a new city, only to feel the sting of homesickness waiting for you after the newness fades. It might even be the end of a relationship, where relief is followed by the hard work of rebuilding yourself. Or, like me, it’s the decision to let go of something secure in pursuit of a life filled with creativity and purpose, while grappling with the fear of not doing enough.
These milestones sound like moments of celebration, but each step forward can feel like an invitation for old emotions to resurface or for unresolved fears to catch up.
As much as we’re told to accept this as part of the process, I wish it didn’t have to exist. It hurts and it’s deeply painful. Yet, I’m reminded that these very experiences have shaped the most courageous and beautiful versions of ourselves.
“You can cut all the flowers but you cannot keep Spring from coming.” - Pablo Neruda
I often think about this quote. While we face uncertainties that feel overwhelming, these moments can be the catalysts for renewal and growth. The natural cycles of life remind us that even after the harshest winters, the beauty of spring inevitably returns.
Things will be ok. You will be ok.
These new beginnings may feel heavy, but it’s in these spaces where we learn to move through discomfort and cultivate love and grace.
We learn to weave the messy, imperfect parts of ourselves into the light, making room for love to blossom in unexpected places.
We’re in this liminal space together, trusting that even in this tangled mess, something beautiful can grow.
Caught in the bittersweet grey,
Jenn
beautifully written.
This left me with more space to explore change. Not just the opportunities, but the scary and heartbreaking parts too. Your most poetic yet! ❤️