Tag: #change

I recently became a grandmother! It made me reflect on how these changes impact on us and change us forever.

Life doesn’t usually announce its biggest changes with a drumroll. More often, they arrive quietly—wrapped in a moment, a title, or a responsibility you didn’t fully understand until you were already living it. Becoming a mother or father. A grandmother or grandfather. A caregiver. A partner. A leader. Each role reshapes not only how the world sees us, but how we see ourselves.

These transitions are profound because they are not just additions to our lives; they are redefinitions.

The Mirror Shifts

Before a major life change, identity often feels singular and self-directed. I am me. My time, my energy, my choices orbit largely around my own needs and ambitions. Then something shifts. Suddenly, there is another life—sometimes several—woven into your own.

For new parents, the mirror changes overnight. You may still recognise your face, but the person looking back carries a new weight of responsibility. There is love deeper than anything you imagined, paired with fear just as intense. You might feel stronger than ever—and simultaneously more vulnerable.

For grandparents, the reflection can be gentler but no less complex. There is pride, legacy, and joy in watching life continue. But there can also be a quiet reckoning with time passing, with roles evolving from centre stage to the wings. Wisdom grows, but so can nostalgia—and sometimes grief for versions of yourself that feel further away.

The Positive: Expansion, Purpose, Depth

One of the greatest gifts of role change is expansion. Life grows bigger.

You discover reserves of patience you didn’t know you had. You learn to advocate, to protect, to prioritise differently. Many people describe a clearer sense of purpose after becoming parents or grandparents—a grounding force that cuts through trivial worries and sharpens what truly matters.

Empathy deepens. Your capacity to love stretches. Success becomes less about personal milestones and more about the wellbeing, growth, and happiness of others. There is profound meaning in that shift—one that often brings humility and perspective.

The Negative: Loss, Conflict, and Quiet Guilt

Yet it would be dishonest to pretend that these transitions are only uplifting.

With new roles often comes loss. Loss of freedom. Loss of time. Loss of spontaneity. Sometimes, loss of identity as you knew it. You may grieve the person you were before, even while loving the life you have now.

There can be internal conflict—especially when society’s expectations clash with your lived reality. Parents may feel pressure to be endlessly patient, fulfilled, and grateful, leaving little room to admit exhaustion or resentment. Grandparents may feel invisible at times, unsure of where they fit in a world that seems to move faster each year.

Guilt is a frequent companion. Guilt for wanting space. Guilt for missing the “old you.” Guilt for not loving every moment as much as you think you should.

These feelings don’t mean you are failing at your role. They mean you are human.

Integration, Not Erasure

Perhaps the most important reflection is this: life changes do not require you to erase who you were. They invite you to integrate.

You are not only a mother or father—you are still an individual with dreams, flaws, and a story of your own. You are not “just” a grandmother or grandfather—you are a keeper of history, perspective, and quiet strength. Each role adds a layer; it does not replace the core.

Growth happens when we allow ourselves to hold both truths: gratitude and grief, joy and frustration, pride and doubt.

Becoming, Again and Again

Life will continue to ask us to step into new roles. Each time, we will lose something—and gain something else. The challenge is not to cling to who we were, nor to disappear into who we are becoming, but to honour the full arc of ourselves.

In every transition, there is an invitation: to be softer, wiser, braver. To let identity remain fluid. To understand that change doesn’t mean you are less—it often means you are more.

And perhaps that is the quiet triumph of life’s role changes: they teach us that becoming is not a single moment, but a lifelong practice.