Deep breaths. I’m taking a lot of them lately. I’m taking some now as I type this.

Change is constant. Sounds obvious, but the statement is true, nonetheless. And as a schooled Mathematician and educator, I teach students to embrace change in the form of variables and other mathematical concepts. I teach students to become comfortable with the knowns and unknowns of life, and embrace what is constant and what is variable as we endeavor to problem solve and make sense of the world we live in.

However, our human existence cannot be adequately expressed in a finite equation. As we all know, life gets complicated, and change—although constant—can be painfully uncomfortable.

I recently came home from an extended trip that allowed me to spend time with some family that live about four states away from me. I didn’t realize how much I needed the trip until I returned home to North Carolina and noticed that my house looked different. The colors on my decorative pillows seemed brighter. My big monstera plants looked happier as their green slit leaves welcomed the bright sun that shone through the window. I enjoyed my trip, and I was glad to be home. I knew I needed that reprieve—I just don’t think I knew how much.

My therapist had mentioned that I’d been through a lot of changes in the last eight years. This recent trip offered me moments to consider how much I felt change happened TO me versus how many changes I’d made happen. There is a distinct difference. The former involves feeling totally helpless and the latter involves feeling in control. Typically change doesn’t bother me, or at least that is what I told myself. But changes that I don’t want or that I didn’t see coming irritate me, and apparently life is full of those types of changes.

I wanted the change of trying something new occupationally. I didn’t know about the stress and loneliness that would come with that change, but I chose to start my own business. I wanted to own a house and plant roots. I didn’t know all the expenses that were going to come as appliances and internal systems needed updating, but I initiated that change. I wanted my parents to move closer to me and my brother, as they got older. I didn’t know that a few years after their move my mother would suddenly pass away, leaving a hole in my life that I’m still trying to understand how to fill. That change happened TO me, and it shifted everything inside of me.

No one told me change could feel so cruel. So painful. So unforgiving and confusing. No one told me that sometimes, the only thing you can do is just let change come. Control is an illusion; responsibility and responsiveness are concrete.

I initially thought if I could accept change in certain areas, then everything else could stay the same, giving me a sense of normalcy and control. But then I realized that I’ve changed. My expectations, my perspective, my needs—they have all changed. And since I’m always with myself, change is always with me. This recent trip unknowingly gave me a moment to accept just that: I’ve changed. I’m not the same person I was before I started my business. I’m not the same person I was before becoming a homeowner. I will never be the same person I was before my mom died. Those versions of myself will never exist again; I think I’ve finally accepted that change, and I’m proud of this version of me.

I’m learning to let change come—however it comes, whatever it is, and whoever comes and goes with it… Deep breaths. A hopeful heart. Prayerful and open hands. Weeping when necessary. I’ll let change come.