There is a strange silence that appears in some teams when a key person leaves. Someone who, for years, was there: built, supported, gave direction, was glue and resource.
A trusted person. A reference. A hero — not in a grandiose sense, but through constancy, loyalty and value. But when that person leaves, something happens that's hard to understand at first glance. Colleagues turn cold. The manager discourages or criticizes the decision and the new direction, whether through words or just through attitude. Office friendships dissolve. And those who were perceived as being close to them — people who were loyal, with whom they formed a solid team — suddenly become marginalized, labelled, questioned, or put against the wall.
Why does this happen? Let's try to become aware. Because the departure of a leader or respected professional triggers deep, uncomfortable, often unconscious mechanisms. Someone's departure shakes the peace of those who remain. It confronts fears. Activates shame. Mirrors courage. It forces others to ask themselves questions they were avoiding. It's easier to withdraw or to judge than to confront one's own stagnation.
Many people don't know how to show vulnerability in professional contexts. It's easier to stay silent than to say: "It's hard for me that you're leaving." So they choose absence — sometimes out of fear, not ill will. Mistakenly, people close to the one leaving become suspect in the informal logic of power, so they try to avoid it. They are seen as loyal to the former person, not to the team. Marginalization sets in — subtle, but real. A kind of "transition cleanup" that's rarely justified and often toxic.
In many organizations, people who leave are seen as traitors instead of being celebrated for their contribution. We don't know how to close professional relationships with gratitude, elegance and maturity — just as, in fact, we don't know how to close personal ones. But that's another discussion that doesn't fit here.
In general, people find it hard to accept another person's decision to separate. They find it hard to detach, to be objective, and to view an ending just as what it is: an ending.
What should we change? When someone leaves, support them. Say "thank you." Ask what they learned. Celebrate their new path. If you are a manager, be aware that the way you treat people when they leave is the most honest leadership test. And if you're a colleague, don't cancel authentic connections just because the org chart has changed. Endings say more about us than beginnings. Perhaps the hero has left, but the way we walk them to the door shows whether we deserve the story. We learn every day — we just need to live consciously and master our impulses, fears and ego.
That's it.
