I have moved more times than I can count, including across provinces, from Alberta to beautiful British Columbia and back again. I grew up in Mississauga, raised my children in Oakville, and now call Milton home. People sometimes assume that someone who moves a lot must be good at the logistics. I am. But the part no one warns you about is the emotional weight of a big move, the grief for the house you are leaving, the excitement for the one you cannot see yet, and the strange in-between where you live in boxes.
That in-between is real, and it deserves to be handled gently. When you work with me, we talk about it. Not in a therapy session sense, but practically and kindly: what this move means for your kids, your parents, your commute, your Sunday routine. Because a home is never just a house. It is where your life happens, and changing where your life happens is a big deal, even when it is the right thing.
What a skill it is to say goodbye to a home and experience without devaluing it's place in your life.
Plan for the goodbye, not just the welcome
Before the boxes arrive, take an evening to say goodbye properly. Photograph the empty rooms you are leaving, the ones first steps happened in. Keep one thing from each chapter, a light fixture, a door knocker, the backyard stone the kids carried around. It sounds small, but it moves the feeling from loss to archive, and it makes walking into the new place feel less like starting over and more like continuing.
Keep the new house honest for the first month
There is real pressure to love a new home immediately. I always tell clients to give it a month of honest living before they judge it. Set up the rooms you use most, the kitchen, the beds, one corner for your morning coffee, and let the rest stay unfinished. Establish one new ritual in the first week, a walk route, a Saturday market, a dinner table that actually gets used. Rituals make a house feel like yours faster than any paint colour.
You are allowed to love both places
The best advice I can give about moving is this: you are allowed to love the home you are leaving and the home you are going to, at the same time. One chapter closing does not erase it; it just means the next one gets to start. That is the kind of move I help people make, and honestly, the kind of move I believe in, with warmth, with humour, and with a lot of heart.
Reading something that feels familiar? That is exactly what a good conversation is for.