Change is like that sneaky rollercoaster at the amusement park—you think you’re signing up for the gentle kiddie ride with a few giggles and maybe a breeze in your hair. But nope. Suddenly you’re dangling upside down, screaming, and bargaining with your stomach to please, please not betray you in public.
I once made the terrible mistake of joining my son on a rollercoaster that looked harmless—like the kind of ride you’d take a nervous first-timer on to ease them in. But the second we started climbing, I realized my “cute little bunny hill” was actually Mount Everest in disguise! And did I mention I get motion sick faster than a kid on a merry-go-round after lunch? Before I knew it, we were launched into what felt like the longest ride in my life, my face turning multiple shades of green while my son thought it was the best ride ever.
And here’s the kicker: when change hits a family, it’s exactly like that ride. Everyone’s strapped in together—whether they bought a ticket or were dragged kicking and screaming into the front row. So how do we survive the ride when it’s not just us, but the people we love? Buckle up, because that’s what we’re about to explore.
Every family member rides change differently:
Don’t assume everyone’s ride style (appetite for change) matches yours. Be aware that appetites change on a regular basis. Just because someone normally handles change very well doesn't mean they are always going to--maybe that first hill was too much for them right now.
You might want to talk about the ride every day, replaying each loop and drop. That helps you process. But for someone else, constant chatter feels like reliving the stomach-lurching plunge over and over.
Change is personal. Some riders need to scream it out, others need silence. Respecting those differences keeps the ride survivable for everyone.
Here’s the real risk: sometimes a family member gets stuck mid-change. Imagine the coaster halting at the top of the hill—everyone else eventually gets off, but one person is left dangling, alone and terrified.
We can’t leave people stranded in the muck of change. Even if we’re sprinting toward the next ride, we need to check back and make sure no one is stuck on the tracks.
So how do we keep the family rollercoaster of change from turning into a disaster?
Change is the ultimate rollercoaster—unexpected drops, dizzying loops, and moments that make your stomach flip. But it’s also a chance to grow—not just individually, but as a family. It isn’t about perfect synchronization. It’s about making sure everyone gets off safely, together.
Want to learn more about change? Check out all we have to offer under Treat Change as Process, Not an Event.