Why Life Keeps Asking Us to Grow
The Nature of Change
Hello friends,
If you ever miss a post, just go to www.vpetrova.com and you’ll see the latest ones.
I am doing a new thing. It’s only new on paper because it’s been in my head for a couple of years. I’ll be organizing Life Intelligence into themes. The theme for the next few weeks will be Life Transitions.
That’s because life has a way of nudging and sometimes shoving us into new seasons and different roles.
Transitions feel exhilarating, disorienting, liberating, or deeply unsettling. Often all at once. Whether it’s the end of a relationship, a career shift, a health change, an identity unraveling, or simply the quiet realization that "something no longer fits"… these moments ask us to pause, reflect, and decide: Who am I now? And where do I go from here?
Over the next 5 weeks, starting today, I’m sharing a special series of reflections on navigating life’s turning points — and how to move through them with clarity, self-trust, and grounded action.
✨ Here’s What’s Coming
Each Wednesday, paid subscribers will receive a new essay exploring a different facet of the transition journey:
The Nature of Change – Why life keeps asking us to grow
The Identity Gap – How to navigate the space between who you were and who you're becoming
Emotional Weather – Handling fear, doubt, and hope during uncertain times
Tiny Commitments – Small steps that anchor you when everything feels big
Crossroads & Compass – How to trust your inner navigation
Each post will include prompts or practices to help you reflect and re-center, whether you're in the middle of a change or simply feeling the stirrings of one.
At the end of the series, we’ll gather for a live Zoom session to reflect together, answer questions, and deepen the conversation. (More on that soon.)
Yes, most of this content will be for paid subscribers.
💌 Thank you, Paid Subscribers! Truly! Your support makes it possible for me to keep writing, teaching, and creating meaningful experiences like this. You're not just readers, you're co-builders of this little corner of the internet. 💛
🎟️ Not a Paid Subscriber Yet?
This is a great time to come aboard. By becoming a paid subscriber, you’ll get:
Full access to all five essays in the Life Transitions series (and future writing, of course).
Access to the live Zoom event at the end (more details to follow in a couple of weeks).
Weekly reflections designed to help you grow, feel, and reconnect to your truth
Plus, you'll be directly supporting independent, soulful work that speaks to the messy, beautiful in-betweens of life.
Let this be the season you invest in you, in your clarity, and forward motion.
Change has a lousy reputation.
It shows up at the wrong time, bangs on the door, and demands a conversation when all you wanted was a quiet evening and maybe a slice of chocolate cake. It never asks if you're ready. It doesn't send a polite "heads up" email. It just packs its bags, storms into your life, and starts rearranging your furniture.
If you're lucky and clever enough, you could consider this an opportunity to design that future, not just get dragged through it. I'm a big fan of designing my future, living intentionally, and jumping on every opportunity that helps me along the way. It also helps to build resilience and skills to absorb and transform unexpected life challenges into what works for you.
Change isn't a thief trying to rob you of comfort. It's more like an overeager personal trainer who believes—with unsettling enthusiasm—that you’re capable of lifting more, running farther, becoming something you haven't imagined yet. Change stretches you because you’re meant to be stretched.
Still, no one likes being stretched mid-nap. I get it. I am telling you, it's good for you. So, go along. Remember the saying, "Blessed are the flexible, for they shall not be bent out of shape!"
Psychologist William Bridges, who spent decades studying transitions, made a distinction that feels almost criminally important: change is external—new jobs, moves, marriages, breakups—but transition is internal. It’s the emotional and psychological process we tumble through as we let go of old identities and inch, bewildered and barefoot, toward something new.