You're making dinner for your college aged kids on a Tuesday evening in August. The conversation around the table is easy, unhurried. Someone's telling a story about yesterday's adventure. The late afternoon light streaming through the window still feels like summer.
But suddenly, you're not really there anymore.
Instead, you're fast-forwarding to September, mentally rehearsing goodbyes that haven't happened yet, picturing how quiet the house will feel in a few short weeks. Your mind jumps to empty bedrooms while your family is right there, petting the dog and debating what to watch tonight.
Let me tell you why this mental time travel happens — and fyi it's not just about parenting (that’s just where I’m at right now as I prepare for my grown up baby birds to fly out of the nest again).
Anticipatory grief shows up everywhere transitions live. The last months of pregnancy when you're mourning your partnership as you know it. The final weeks at a job you've loved. Watching aging parents during what might be your last "normal" visit. Even approaching the end of a really good vacation.
We get so focused on how we're going to lose something that we miss the fact that it's still right here.
Anticipatory grief feels disconcerting, but once you learn to recognize how it looks and feels, it becomes an invitation. When you stop treating endings like emergencies and start seeing them as natural rhythms, you create space for presence, appreciation, and even closeness during transitions.
Here's how to stay present when change is coming.
Strategy #1: Notice When Your Mind Jumps Ahead To What's Next
When anticipatory grief takes over, you may feel pressure (or pressured!) to already be sad about what's coming. The protective part of our nervous system thinks it's helping!
If I don't let myself fully sink into this sweetness, it won't hurt as much when it ends.
But this robs us of the very experiences we're trying to protect ourselves from losing.
When you notice your mind fast-forwarding to the goodbye, take a breath, put your hand on your heart, and ask: What's actually happening right now? What's one thing I can appreciate about right now?
Strategy #2: Ground Yourself In This Moment And Add Layers To The Story
If your mind insists on time traveling, at least give it some beautiful destinations to visit. Instead of the simple narrative of "When they're here, it's happy. When they're gone, it's sad,” try:
- "What growth might come from this transition?"
- "What new intimacy might emerge in the next chapter?"
- "What am I genuinely excited about?"
The next chapter is unwritten. Your anxious parts lead you to “future-trip” in a way that is negative. See if your creative parts can envision something more hopeful.
Strategy #3: Speak For Your Anxious Parts, Not From Them
In anticipatory grief, there's a tendency to let one part of your experience hijack the whole show. The poet Walt Whitman said, “I am large. I contain multitudes.” Guess what? You do too.
When you speak from the anxious part, it defines your entire experience!
Speaking from your anxious parts sounds like: "The kids are going to leave and it's going to be so sad."
When you speak for the anxious part, you remind yourself that, like Walt, you can have more than one feeling at a time.
Speaking for your anxious parts sounds like: "There's a part of me that's getting anxious and already playing out the sadness of goodbyes. And there's another part of me that's excited about the new rhythms my partner and I will create."
You don't have to eliminate the sad and worried feelings. You just have to not let them be the only voice in the room. What if you let your different parts have a seat at the table?
Strategy #4: Share What You Need
This pattern shows up powerfully in relationships during any transition and it has the power to shape the dynamics between you and the people you love. When I'm absorbed in my own anticipatory grief about the kids leaving, I can't be present to how my husband is experiencing this time of transition, or how the kids themselves are feeling about their next chapters. When I am not using these strategies to quiet my anticipatory grief, it hovers over all four of us, and everyone starts to feel this terrible pressure and urgency to make the moment count.
Couples who do not manage their anticipatory grief can end up polarized with one partner carrying all the worry and the other carrying all the optimism. Polarization blocks validation and connection in the midst of a tender transition.
Whether you're spiraling or steady, name your experience:
- "There's a part of me that's already missing this, even though it's still happening. Can you help me stay present?"
- "I notice I'm getting anxious about September. What's one thing you want to make sure we savor while we're still here?"
So as this season shifts—whatever season you're in—remember this: Notice what you're feeling. Trust yourself to hold messy contradictions. Ask for what you need. And return, again and again, to the moment you’re actually in.
xo,
Dr. Alexandra
