🌿 Between Two Worlds: The Emotional Turmoil of Corporate Transition

Vivek Krishnan
Nov 9, 2025
4 min read

There are moments in every professional life that are measured not by timelines, but by stillness — that quiet, unsettling space between what has been and what is yet to be.

The phase of corporate transition sits precisely there — between gratitude and uncertainty, between closure and curiosity.

Leaving an organisation isn’t just a logistical exercise. It’s an emotional recalibration. It’s the process of gently untethering yourself from a place that has become part of your identity — from the people who shaped you, challenged you, and, in their own ways, helped you evolve.

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1. The weight of belonging

When you spend years within an organisation, its pulse syncs with yours. The familiar corridors, routines, meetings, and even conflicts become part of your rhythm.

And when you finally decide to move on, you realise that it isn’t the building or the brand you’re leaving — it’s a version of yourself that you’ve outgrown.

The people you’ve worked with — mentors, peers, and team members — each represent fragments of your professional self. Some taught you patience, others precision; some mirrored your values, others challenged them. Together, they formed the ecosystem that shaped your working identity.

To move on from that is to release not just an office ID card, but a piece of lived experience.

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2. The quiet duality of transition

Transition is rarely linear. It begins with relief, slips into restlessness, and often ends in reflection.

Relief, that you’ve chosen change.

Restlessness, that the comfort of familiarity is fading.

And reflection, that perhaps every ending is only another beginning in disguise.

It’s a strange duality — you continue to function, hand over files, attend farewell lunches, write thank-you notes — all while your mind is already rehearsing for tomorrow.

You find yourself split between two worlds: one you’re still part of, and another you haven’t yet entered.

In that space, emotions find odd ways of expressing themselves — sometimes as nostalgia, sometimes as self-doubt, and sometimes as quiet gratitude for having had the chance to matter.

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3. The anatomy of a farewell

At first, I thought of farewell notes as routine courtesy.

But as I began writing them — to seniors, peers, and team members — I realised they were something more profound.

Each note became a reflection of a relationship, a fragment of memory, and an acknowledgment of shared time.

To some, it was gratitude for guidance.

To others, it was admiration for intellect, or appreciation for reliability.

And to a few, it was closure — a final, silent handshake that said, thank you for the lessons, even when they came wrapped in difficulty.

Writing these messages taught me something invaluable — farewells are not about dramatics; they are about grace.

They allow you to part with dignity, to honour the good without revisiting the friction.

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4. The cycle of awareness and change

Every career shift, I’ve realised, follows a rhythm — awareness → action → change → renewed awareness.

It begins when you sense that your growth has reached a threshold.

Then comes the courage to act on that awareness — to make a decision that may unsettle comfort but serves purpose.

Change follows — sometimes smooth, sometimes stormy — but always illuminating.

And from that change arises a new awareness of who you are becoming.

When embraced consciously, this cycle transforms transition from a rupture into renewal.

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5. What remains, even after leaving

You never really leave an institution.

You carry forward its lessons, the systems you built, the habits that shaped you, and the people who believed in you.

You take along the emails that taught patience, the reviews that built resilience, and the laughter that kept you human.

The best measure of a corporate journey is not in designations, but in how you leave —

whether you walk away bitter or better,

whether you exit with noise or with grace,

whether you shut doors or keep them quietly ajar.

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6. Gratitude as closure

Gratitude, when expressed sincerely, is the softest landing for any transition.

It allows you to end without anger, to move without guilt, and to look back without regret.

It reminds you that every person you’ve met — whether they helped or hindered — contributed to your growth in some way.

Change, after all, isn’t about replacing environments.

It’s about carrying forward awareness, applying it with action, and allowing that to shape the next version of yourself.

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7. The in-between that defines us

Perhaps the hardest part of transition is not the act of leaving — it’s the time you spend in between.

That’s where reflection happens. That’s where humility grows. That’s where you learn to thank without clinging and to move without escaping.

Every professional chapter, like every season, must end for another to begin. But if you end it right — with awareness, gratitude, and grace — it doesn’t close; it simply continues in a different form.