Life has a way of remaining still for a long time until one day, a single decision creates waves that change everything.
My life has been much the same.
In my early twenties, I was determined, eager to embrace new experiences, explore unfamiliar places, and make a mark in the world. I welcomed challenges with excitement. But as I grew older, I found myself falling in love with the comfort of the ordinary. The familiar became a safe place, and I often preferred staying within my comfort zone rather than venturing beyond it.
When I turned thirty in 2024, I hoped this decade would be one of breakthroughs. I wanted it to be the season where years of hard work would finally begin to bear fruit.
One of my biggest goals for 2026 was to secure a full-time teaching position. Since January, I had been appearing for interviews and writing examinations. Then, last month, I received an offer to join a college as an Assistant Professor.
It should have been an instant “yes.”
Instead, it was a bittersweet, overwhelming feeling.
For days, I couldn’t understand why I wasn’t happy or excited after achieving something I had been praying for for so long. Stability and growth was finally within reach, yet all I could think about was everything that would change.
I think many of us imagine that once we achieve something we’ve worked toward, we’ll immediately feel joy. But sometimes the first emotion is grief, for the life we’re leaving behind.
Therefore, looking back, here are a few realizations that helped me make sense of those emotions.
1. New chapters often begin with fear, not excitement.
Whenever you’re about to begin a new chapter, you may find yourself trying to sabotage the opportunity with endless excuses.
“Maybe I’m not ready yet.”
“Maybe this isn’t the right decision.”
“What if better opportunities arise?”
Our nervous system is a remarkably obedient protector. It often prioritizes safety over growth and familiarity over possibility.
When I first received my offer letter, I almost declined it. Not because I didn’t want the job, but because accepting it meant embracing uncertainty.
It took me nearly a week to process the news before I could finally feel excited about the journey ahead.
I’ve learned that new beginnings don’t always arrive with confidence. In my case, it was all about anxious thoughts, sleepless nights, and fear of the unknown. And that’s okay.
You don’t have to force yourself to feel excited immediately. Give yourself permission to process the change before letting anticipation take its place.
2. Every beginning asks you to leave something behind.
This was, without question, the hardest part for me.
My new job meant leaving Kolkata, the city that had been my home since 2016, and moving to Siliguri.
Over the past ten years, I had built a life there. I had found my favourite cafés, walked familiar streets, made acquaintances who became friends, and formed deep bonds with people who had become family. Even the neighbourhood cats had become a part of my daily life.
So, before leaving Kolkata, I found myself wanting to say goodbye not just to people, but to the little rituals that had quietly become part of my life over the last ten years. I made sure to meet my closest friends one last time, savour a plate of Kolkata biryani, spend a peaceful afternoon browsing books at Starmark in South City Mall, and visit my teachers to thank them and say, “See you again”.
Leaving felt like saying goodbye to a version of myself.
At times, it genuinely felt like the final episode of a beloved sitcom where everyone moves on, and life quietly changes forever.
But perhaps that’s what growth often looks like.
Taking the time to say goodbye helped me appreciate just how much Kolkata had given me, and it made stepping into this new chapter feel a little gentle.
I’ve realised the importance of letting go during this period that helped me make space for experiences that haven’t yet arrived.
It’s been a week since I left Kolkata, and little by little, Siliguri is beginning to feel familiar again. I’ve already started bonding with my colleagues, and there’s comfort in knowing that this city isn’t entirely new to me. I lived here during my school and college years, and it’s only two hours away from my hometown, Kalimpong.
Sometimes familiarity returns in unexpected ways.
3. Every new chapter in life comes with the work of rebuilding.
Starting over isn’t just emotionally demanding, it’s practical too.
There are countless decisions to make.
Finding accommodation. Managing finances. Learning new routines. Settling into a new workplace.
For me, there was another important consideration: my two cats.
Finding a home where they could comfortably live with me meant being very particular about where I stayed. The logistics felt overwhelming at first, and there were moments when everything seemed too much to handle.
But I discovered something simple.
When I stopped trying to solve everything at once and focused on one task at a time, things slowly became manageable.
I’m incredibly grateful for my parents, who stood beside me through every step of this transition. They helped me search for accommodation, move my belongings, and settle into this new phase of life.
My cats will be joining me in a few weeks in their new home here in Siliguri, and I sincerely hope they’ll settle in as happily as I eventually will.
4. We aren’t meant to navigate change alone.
If there’s one thing that carried me through this in-between season of endings and beginnings, it was the reassurance of the people I love.
I received so many phone calls from friends and family congratulating me, but more importantly, encouraging me.
One conversation that stayed with me was with my friend Shreya.
She immediately noticed that my voice didn’t sound excited, it sounded anxious.
Instead of telling me to “be happy,” she simply told me to take things one step at a time and not think of this job as a lifelong commitment. I only had to begin.
Another friend, Sweta, had called to discuss something entirely different. When I shared the news with her, she was genuinely happy for me and reminded me that I should give this new chapter a chance before deciding whether I liked it or not.
The right words when I needed them the most.
We simply need someone to remind us that we’re capable.
On quieter evenings, I found comfort in familiar things too like rewatching Friends and The Big Bang Theory, shows that somehow made everything feel a little less uncertain.
The kindness of people, the familiarity of comfort shows, and the reassurance that I wasn’t doing this alone made the transition much gentler.
A new beginning is rarely comfortable.
We often imagine new chapters as exciting montages filled with hope and possibility.
But in reality, they usually begin with uncertainty.
With cardboard boxes.
With goodbyes.
With tears.
With self-doubt.
And with countless moments of wondering whether we’ve made the right decision.
Yet, perhaps courage isn’t the absence of fear.
Perhaps courage is allowing yourself to be afraid and choosing to begin anyway.
As I write this from my new city, I’m still figuring things out. There are still boxes to unpack, routines to build, and people to know. I’m sure there will be difficult days ahead.
But for the first time in weeks, I’m beginning to feel something that wasn’t there when I first received the offer letter.
Excitement.
So, here’s to new cities, new routines, new friendships, and new versions of ourselves.
May we always find the courage to begin again.
