The Grief No One Talks About: How to Be Kinder to Yourself When Life Changes (Even If It's a Good Thing)

I hung up the phone and just sat there.

Devastated.

My Orangetheory studio was closing, with only two weeks notice.

Now you might be thinking, Bianca, it's just a gym. Why were you devastated? And I get it.

But here's what I've learned over the years: Where there is change there is loss, where there is loss there is grief. Grief is not only about a person dying. Grief shows up whenever there's loss.

The grief I was experiencing is disenfranchised grief. It's the grief that society doesn't often recognize because nobody died. Maybe you're grieving a celebrity you never met. Maybe you're sad about a job ending, a routine changing, a friendship shifting. These losses are real, even when no one acknowledges them. 

But, let me back up and tell you how I got to that phone call, because the way they told us made everything worse.

The Email That Wasn't Actually Clear

A few days before the phone call I got an email from my Orangetheory studio. I'd been working out there for about a year, absolutely loved the community and the fact I could walk there was nourishing to my soul.

The email said something about merging with another studio close by, made it seem like it was a new exciting thing. However, it NEVER actually said my studio was closing.

I read it twice. Confused.

Are we merging? Is this a good thing? What's actually happening here?

The lack of clarity irritated me more than the news itself. You could tell it was written by someone who doesn't like confrontation. They danced around the actual information and tried to make it sound like something to celebrate.

 I understand nobody wants to deliver bad news.

But I believe clarity is kindness. Because it means the other person is not trying to fill in the gaps and piece together what's really happening when you could have just told them straight.

So I called them up, for clarity.

"Hey, I just got this email. Is the studio closing?"

"We're merging."

"No. Is this studio location closing?"

"Yes it’s closing."

And that's when it hit me. That's when I hung up and felt completely devastated about the change that would impact my routine I loved.

What Was Really Lost: Managing the Emotions of Change

Losing my Orangetheory studio meant losing so much more than a gym membership.

I walked there. Since coming back from my sabbatical I realized how much more stressful and tired I feel from driving. Therefore I have created a lifestyle where I drive less and live in a walkable neighborhood.

Getting up in the mornings and having to drive somewhere, even just 5 minutes away, felt like a massive shift. The routine I'd built. The enjoyment of just walking out to classes was gone.

And then there was the community. The coaches I knew by name, the people I never spoke to but knew their faces yet their silent presence was still a support.

The location we were being moved to was a downgrade because it was half the size. Imagine being moved from first class to economy on a plane. Yep, that type of downgrade.

I was not alone in how I felt. Both coaches and other members were in shock. I even started talking to some people I never talked to before  for support in this sudden change in our lives. Funny how that works.

Why Change and Loss is Hard for Perfectionists

If you're someone who struggles with perfectionism, losses like this hit differently.

Because on top of the actual grief, you're also dealing with the pressure to just be fine about it. The expectations (often your own) that you should handle it better. Be more grateful. Not make such a big deal out of things.

You tell yourself: Other people have REAL problems. This is nothing. I should just get over it.

But here's the truth: letting go is a huge part of what makes change and loss so hard.

You expected your routine to stay the same. You expected that studio to be there. You expected stability. And now those expectations are shattered. Learning how to be kinder to yourself means letting go of what you know, facing the unknown, and giving yourself permission to feel the loss, even when everything "should" be fine.

Perfectionism makes us think we should skip over the uncomfortable emotions and just push through and move on.

But that's not how grief works. That's not how being human works.

The Last Class

I didn't accept the change right away. I prayed the studio wouldn't close.

But it did.

So I went to the last class. A 90-minute session packed with people who loved that place as much as I did. 

My old head coach came back for it. She got on the mic and said, "I'm going to try not to cry." (And I thought, please don't because I will too.)

I held out until those last 30 seconds on the rower, pulling as hard as I could. Tears just welled up in my eyes. Because I had finally accepted the change and allowed the grief to show up.

We had a celebration afterward, which was beautiful. We all hung out, said our goodbyes to the space.

Then I went home, full of emotion and tired from that 90 minute class, and took a much needed nap.

The next day was a Sunday, and I was able to give myself space to just grieve the loss without pushing myself to be excited about what was coming next.

Where I Am Now with My Disenfranchised Grief

It's been a few weeks now (it's February 2026 as I'm writing this). I'm still figuring out my way through this change. It's still hard. I still miss walking to my studio.

But I'm being gentle with myself. I'm giving myself space to grieve.

And that's what I want to remind you: if there's any change in your life, recent or past, that you never acknowledged or gave yourself permission to grieve, I want you to give yourself permission to let those emotions flow.

If you feel weird or off, maybe slow down and notice the grief that's taking place, especially if it is disenfranchised grief. You don't have to explain yourself to anyone.

Even the Good Changes Can Create Disenfranchised Grief

Here's what makes disenfranchised grief even more complicated: sometimes the change is objectively good.

You got the promotion. You're moving to your dream city. You're getting married. You're having a baby.

And yes, those things are exciting and wonderful.

But you're still leaving something behind. You're leaving the comfort of the old job, the familiarity of your current city, your single life, your life before kids. There's a change happening, and that change involves loss of a way of life you enjoyed.

We don't make space for that. We think this is a great thing, I should just be grateful.

And you can be grateful and still grieve what's ending. Both things can be true.

Because when we don't acknowledge the grief, it doesn't just disappear. It shows up as anxiety, irritability, exhaustion, feeling disconnected from yourself. It shows up as that nagging feeling that something's not quite right, even though everything "should" be fine.

If you're in a new season that's supposed to be enjoyable but something still feels off? This might be why. You might be carrying unacknowledged grief.

How to Be Kinder to Yourself

Grief is one of the hardest emotions to identify, often because as a society we don’t always know how to deal with it.  We feel sad, but it's not quite sad. We feel stuck, but we don't know why.

Learning to recognize grief, especially the kind nobody talks about, is part of how to be kinder to yourself.

So if you're reading this and something's resonating, I want you to know: your grief is valid.

Even if it's "just" a gym closing.

Even if it's "just" a job change.

Even if it's "just" your kid starting school.

Even if it's a good thing.

You're allowed to feel the loss. You're allowed to grieve the shift. You're allowed to take a nap and give yourself a whole Sunday to just sit with it.

That's not a weakness. That's not being dramatic.

That's being human. And it's one of the kindest things you can do for yourself.

Journal Prompts:

If this resonated with you, take some time to reflect on these questions:

• Are there any changes in my life that I never gave myself space to grieve, even if they were good and exciting?

• What does it look like to give myself space to grieve without worrying about how long it has been since it happened and what other people think?

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If you're struggling to make sense of emotions you can't quite name, or if you're tired of pushing through changes without giving yourself space to process them, therapy can help. As a perfectionism therapist in Atlanta, Georgia, I create a safe, non-judgmental space where you can explore all the feelings that don't fit into neat boxes, including grief that no one else seems to recognize. You can schedule a free 15-minute consultation to see if we're a good fit.