Space Between Chapters
- Veronica Soria
- Mar 12
- 3 min read
There have been two defining transitions in my life, one after 20 years in the Marine Corps, and another after two decades in government service. Both times, I was leaving a life I loved, where I led, served, and grew alongside others. And both times, I felt that familiar mix: deep gratitude for what had shaped me and an undercurrent of uncertainty for what lay ahead. Yet, in both seasons, a quiet excitement whispered—inviting me to trust that something new was waiting, even if I couldn’t see it yet.

What I’ve learned is that transitions, no matter how many we face, ask something very human of us. It asks us to hold trust and structure together. Each time, part of me wanted to control every step to plan, organize, and make sure the path ahead was clear. Another part of me knew that some chapters of life simply can’t be mapped out in advance. Möllering (2005) study calls this "suspension" the moment when we step forward, not because we know everything, but because we trust that growth lies on the other side. The study explains that trust and control are not opposites. Instead, they work together to help people feel confident moving forward, especially in situations where the outcome is uncertain. We often rely on structure rules, routines, or agreements while also trusting the intentions and actions of others. Even then, we still take a small leap of faith because we can never know the future with complete certainty

Looking back, that is exactly how both transitions felt. I leaned on routines and reflection to stay grounded, but I also had to trust something deeper, the belief that who I am is larger than any title I have held. I can tell you, transitioning didn’t mean leaving behind the work I loved; it meant letting ME evolve.
Today, when I sit with people who are navigating change, whether they are leaving a career, stepping into leadership, or rediscovering who they are beyond their roles, I recognize that same mixture of excitement and uncertainty in their eyes. And I often share what that season taught me: we don’t have to choose between strength and vulnerability, or between trusting ourselves and creating healthy structure. Both can exist together. Trust helps us move forward, and structure helps us stay grounded along the way. When we allow those two to walk side by side, transition stops feeling like an ending. It becomes an unfolding invitation to grow into a fuller, more aligned version of who we are meant to be.
Reflective Questions
When you think about a major transition in your life, what emotions surfaced: excitement, fear, relief, possibility?
How have the roles you’ve held shaped you, and what parts of you exist beyond those titles?
What routines, practices, or supports help you stay grounded when life feels uncertain?
If you allowed this season of uncertainty to be part of your growth, what new chapter might be quietly unfolding for you?
If these reflections resonate with you, I’d love to connect. Sometimes, a conversation is all it takes to help you see the path that’s unfolding before you.
Reference:
Möllering, G. (2005). The Trust/Control Duality: An Integrative Perspective on Positive Expectations of Others: An Integrative Perspective on Positive Expectations of Others. International Sociology, 20(3), 283-305. https://doi.org/10.1177/0268580905055478


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