Growing through Change
Life rarely unfolds in a straight line. At some point, every one of us will encounter disruptions that upend the life we thought we were living. These may come suddenly, like the death of a loved one, the collapse of a relationship, or the loss of a job. Other times they unfold more gradually, such as the slow erosion of health, the fading of a dream, or the recognition that the path we have followed no longer reflects who we truly are.
These moments can feel like the ground has shifted beneath our feet. They shatter the routines, identities, and assumptions we once relied on, leaving us disoriented and exposed. Yet, paradoxically, it’s often in these very moments of upheaval that the seeds of renewed growth are planted. Within the rubble of what has been lost lies the raw material for transformation. We may not be able to recreate the life that was, but we can shape a life that is deeper, truer, and more aligned with who we are becoming.
The Opportunity Buried Under Loss
Psychologists Richard Tedeschi and Lawrence Calhoun coined the term “post-traumatic growth” to describe the positive changes that can emerge after adversity. Their research showed that for many people, the experience of trauma or disruption is not only survivable but can also catalyze profound development. This doesn’t mean dismissing pain or pretending that everything happens for a reason. This growth is about acknowledging that while suffering hurts deeply, it can also open space for reflection, reprioritization, and new possibilities.
Unlike resilience, which is often described as “bouncing back,” or just toughing out hard times, post-traumatic growth is about “bouncing forward.” It’s recognizing and embracing that the person we emerge as after disruption is not the same person we were before. We don’t return unchanged; instead, we adapt and evolve.
Research identifies several domains where this growth often appears. Relationships may deepen, as adversity clarifies who truly matters and who will truly be there for you. Personal strength is discovered, as we realize we are far more capable than we once believed. New possibilities emerge, whether in careers, creative pursuits, or ways of living that once seemed out of reach. Some experience spiritual growth, gaining a renewed sense of connection to a higher purpose. Others cultivate a heightened appreciation for life itself, savoring small joys with new awareness.
These transformations rarely arrive all at once or at an orderly pace. Growth after disruption can be slow, uneven, and deeply human. Grief comes in waves, often when unexpected. Meaning takes time to coalesce. Identity evolves in fits and starts. Yet over time, the very events that once seemed to end life as we knew it can become the catalysts for creating a more intentional, aligned and resilient life.
Walking Through the Valley of Loss
Loss, in its many forms, is an unavoidable part of being human. It may arrive with the passing of a loved one, the end of a relationship, the disappearance of a career, or the decline of health or cognition. The aftermath, especially if sudden, plunges us into sadness, confusion and fear. But over time, the way we respond to loss shapes whether we remain stuck in grief or eventually emerge transformed and ready to embrace life again.
One of the most striking findings in psychology is the natural resilience of the human heart. Studies show that even after profound losses, many people gradually return to their baseline level of wellbeing within a year or two. Just as the joy of a lottery win tends to fade as people adapt, so too does the sharp pain of grief soften with time. This doesn’t forget or minimize the significance of what was lost. Instead, it shows that we have a deep biological and psychological capacity to carry pain without being permanently crushed by it.
The process is rarely neat. In the early stages, grief hits us in unpredictable waves. Psychologists call this “dual process coping,” the natural oscillation between confronting the reality of loss and re-engaging with life in small ways. Crying one day and laughing the next feels disconnected or even disrespectful, but it’s our healing in action. Emotional honesty – allowing feelings to flow rather than suppressing them – is key. Avoidance can numb pain temporarily, but unprocessed grief often lingers longer and can even solidify into despair.
Healing also emerges from community. Social connection has consistently been shown to buffer grief and accelerate recovery. Talking with others, or even just sitting quietly together, reminds us that we are not alone. Rituals, such as sitting Shiva to mourn together, writing letters of thanks and gratitude, creating impromptu memorials for those we’ve lost, or engaging in other acts of remembrance, can offer both closure and continuity. They honor what was lost while allowing us to carry our love forward in new ways.
When our Sense of Self is Shaken
Some losses extend beyond the external to strike at our very identity. A career-ending job loss, a forced retirement, a break-up or divorce, or the onset of chronic illness can disrupt our sense of who we are. For people who have anchored their identity and worth in professional roles, companionship or physical abilities, such changes can feel like an erasure of self.
Yet even here, research shows that reinvestment and redefinition are possible. Self-determination theory shows that people thrive when their needs for competence, autonomy, and connection are met. Even when work or health is taken away, we can find new ways to fulfill these essential needs. Volunteering, creative pursuits, mentoring, or learning can all restore a sense of agency and contribution. Physical limitations may require adaptation, but cognitive, emotional and relational flexibility enable us to reimagine what a “good life” looks like within new boundaries.
Gentle movement, gratitude for what remains, and creative engagement can all foster renewed purpose. More importantly, they remind us that our identity is never fixed. Our past got us to our present, but does not determine our future. When one chapter closes, we can still write the next one.
Climbing Life’s Mountains
Disruptions can feel like mountains rising before us – steep, imposing, and insurmountable. At the base, it’s easy to believe that everything depends on reaching the summit. But many who have endured hardship learn that the true gift of the mountain isn’t the view from the top but the transformation that occurs through making the climb.
Struggle shapes us in ways comfort cannot. Studies of adversarial growth show that people who endure hardship often report greater self-understanding, improved relationships, and a redefined sense of purpose. Psychological flexibility – the ability to adapt, accept, and act according to our values in the face of pain – is a powerful predictor of this growth. We don’t need to force positivity, just choose effort over ease, meaning over avoidance, and alignment over resignation.
The climb requires us to accept and acknowledge reality as it is, without denying or resisting it. But acceptance isn’t the same as giving up. You aren’t quitting, you’re reclaiming your agency by choosing where to place your energy. Like the Japanese art of kintsugi, where broken pottery is repaired with gold, acceptance allows us to honor our scars as part of our beauty. Healing comes from integrating, not erasing, our painful experiences.
The Science of Renewal
Behind these stories of recovery lies a body of research that illuminates why some people thrive after disruption. Four kinds of resilience appear consistently:
Physical resilience, supported by movement and bodily care, regulates stress and strengthens recovery.
Mental resilience, developed through grit and cognitive flexibility, allows us to navigate new challenges.
Emotional resilience, fostered by cultivating gratitude, curiosity, and love, counterbalances negative emotions.
Social resilience, rooted in connection and community, provides the safety and support needed to heal.
Together, these resources create a foundation upon which post-traumatic growth can unfold. They remind us that while pain is unavoidable, we don’t need to be defined by our suffering. By nurturing our wellbeing resilience along these dimensions, we create conditions where growth becomes possible, even in the shadow of hardship.
Choosing to Grow
Ultimately, major life disruptions confront us with a choice. We can attempt to rebuild what was lost, clinging to the life we once knew – racing into a new relationship after divorce or taking the first job we can get. Or we can accept that change has come, however unwelcome, and begin to create something new, building on what we’ve learned about ourselves through the experience.
Growth is never automatic. It requires openness, courage, and intentionality. But those who embrace the process often find that they emerge with greater strength, clarity, and love than they thought possible.
To lose something meaningful is to be changed. But it is within our power to decide how we will be changed. While the storms of life can strip us bare, they also reveal the parts of us that can’t be destroyed. Step by step, we discover that even our hardest climbs can leave us not only still upright, but standing taller, within an even better view of what’s ahead.
A Life Rewritten
As you reflect on the disruptions you have faced, or the ones that may lie ahead, remember that you are no longer who you were before the storm, and you can’t return to that exact life. But you now carry the wisdom, strength, compassion and self-knowledge that only life’s hardest seasons can uncover. With openness and courage, this new you can shape a life even more beautiful and true than the one left behind.
Breakdowns never feel welcome in the moment. They test us, stretch us, and sometimes break our hearts. Yet when we choose to engage with them honestly, to process our pain, to seek connection, and to realign our lives with what matters most, we can transform disruption into a pathway toward greater depth and meaning. The climb is never easy, but it’s how we become our fullest, truest self.
