Changeover — The

You will not be younger. You will not be more innocent. You will not be more popular.

Here is the answer you don't want: As long as it takes.

But the collapse is the gift. It is the wrecking ball. And you have to let it swing. The changeover is not a weekend retreat. It is a long, slow, excruciating season of not knowing . The Changeover

We spend so much of our lives obsessed with the finish line —the promotion, the weight goal, the relationship status, the academic degree—that we completely ignore the terrifying, messy, glorious transition required to get there. We want the destination without the demolition. But life doesn't work that way. To change your life, you must first be willing to be destroyed by it. Before we talk about the changeover, we have to talk about the cage.

For you, it might be the phone call that ends a decade-long marriage. It might be the pink slip that arrives via impersonal email. It might be a diagnosis. It might be the quiet, horrifying realization that your children have grown up and you no longer recognize yourself in the mirror without their small hands reaching for you. You will not be younger

During the changeover, your friends will get uncomfortable. They liked the old you. The old you was predictable. The old you didn't ask big, scary questions. They will say things like, "Maybe you're overthinking it," or "You were fine before." They mean well. But they are trying to pull you back into the burning building because the fire makes them nervous.

Let yourself change.

You are not depressed. You are completed . You have finished the puzzle of who you were supposed to be, and you are staring at a picture you no longer like. Most people think the changeover begins with a choice. It doesn't. It begins with a collapse.