Tag: transformation

  • Breathe

    Brand new.

    All of this.

    Tomorrow I have a first date.

    I’ve never done this, any of it.

    Dated.

    Met someone online.

    Before last summer, I’d only loved two people.

    Had only slept with a few others.

    I never realized it before, but I think I was proud of that.

    Only now, as I’m faced with letting go of that piece of my identity, has it registered for me.

    This sense that I was innocent or pure, the way I’ve been cultured to be the ideal for women.

    I’ve always felt like my sexuality could only be sacred if I kept it small and private, held in a monogamous container.

    As this new part of me grows inside, I’m having to question that belief.

    I was taught that this side of me was only safe if I held it close, and could bring me pain if I let it truly become alive.

    What if this was all wrong?

    What if pain can find me no matter what, and keeping my sexuality in a cage has been just as harmful?

    What if love doesn’t have to mean ownership, and the process of cultivating deep trust in that love is what actually brings true security.

    It’s hard.

    To let go of who I’ve always been, what I’ve always believed.

    But also, I feel lighter.

    Braver.

    Safer.

    Freer.

    More whole.

    More me.

    Like this part of me has been waiting a lifetime to be born.

    Just aching for me to be ready to allow it to breathe.

  • Witness

    I see you, young one.

    You, the newest part of me.

    Just born.

    Just stretching your limbs and breathing air into your lungs for the first time.

    I hear you, just finding your voice and marveling at the very sound of it.

    I know the rest of me is nervous, afraid even.

    I know the rest of me wants to keep you small and safe, to manage and control you.

    But I’m here, ready to witness who you are becoming in this world.

    I’m here, ready to let you grow and expand and thrive in all the ways you are needing.

    I’m here, ready to nurture your budding curiosity and desire for freedom.

    I’m here, ready to offer you spaciousness to be the wild and feral being that you are.

    I’m here, willing and able to hold room for you to make your own mistakes and find your own way.

    I’m not going to lock you up behind closed doors.

    I’m not going to keep you separate and caged from the rest of me.

    I promise, I will help you integrate and manifest fully within me.

    I see, really see, all the blessings and abundance you are bringing to all parts of my life.

    I understand that letting you breathe and become alive means all of me benefits and flourishes more.

    You are evolving, awakening from the darkness of slumber and mystery.

    You are unfolding right before my eyes, so beautiful and sparkling new.

    You are emerging, ready to be held and loved and tended to.

    I promise, I will do my best to walk with you and witness you on this journey we’re on together.

    I promise, I won’t turn away.

  • Alone

    Sometimes this process can feel so fragmented.

    This new part of me is growing so fast, and the rest of me just wants to slow down a bit.

    I want to allow my heart to grow and expand the way it’s needing to, yet at times it can feel like too much to hold all at once.

    So many pieces to carry, so many elements to juggle.

    I just want to press pause for a moment.

    To take a breath, and rest for a little while.

    But it doesn’t seem to work like that.

    New connections keep forming, even as old ones fall away.

    There is joy and desire and excitement in all that continues to surface in me.

    And also grief, loss, and reflection around the places and people I’m leaving behind.

    It gets so lonely sometimes, holding it all.

    I try to share about it with my friends, but most of them just can’t handle it.

    I know they’re trying.

    Trying to support me.

    Trying to love me.

    Trying to accept these changes in who I am becoming.

    Yet they can’t understand or relate, and it seems to trigger their own fears around relationships and monogamy.

    It feels out of their realm of capacity, and I don’t want to overwhelm or burden them with a subject that is simply too much for them to carry.

    Even my husband, my very best friend.

    I used to be able to share everything on my mind so freely and unfiltered.

    I would just process my thoughts out loud as they were forming, never needing to edit or tiptoe or proceed with caution.

    Now I need to be sensitive and mindful in how I share with him.

    It’s tender and triggering for him, understandably.

    Sharing about feelings for other people, it has to be handled with care and gentleness.

    I have to censor the thoughts I share now, sometimes dancing around my truth to create a soft landing as it enters his ears.

    I miss how it used to be, like an ache for which I cannot find relief.

    I miss him knowing every feeling and thought I’m having, our communication constant and open.

    It’s isolating, this new world I’ve entered.

    It’s a path not widely accepted or understood in this world.

    Even with this blog, I need to stay anonymous for now.

    There’s people in my life I don’t want to share this journey with.

    Family and friends that I just don’t feel safe knowing what I’m feeling and experiencing.

    I find myself feeling so depleted from the energy it takes to hold it all alone.

    I’m trying my best.

    To stay devoted and present to my current community, while also cultivating new connections that allow room for this new part of me to breathe and thrive.

    It’s such a balancing act.

    I feel like I’m straddling two very different worlds.

    Two distinctly detached versions of myself.

    Two parallel yet separate lives.

    Fragments of these opposing elements scattered all around me, longing to be re-membered and re-integrated.

    It takes so much intention to not spiral into shame and self doubt.

    To steer away from judging myself the way I fear I’m being judged by others.

    To focus on the beauty and growth and evolution happening in me, rather than the cultural narratives embedded in my psyche.

    I hope one day I can feel whole again.

    I hope one day I can feel held again.

    I hope one day I can feel seen and heard and witnessed truthfully, by the ones who love me most.

  • Wings

    Wings

    Sometimes I still can’t believe it.

    This new place I find myself in.

    This new version of me I’m learning to inhabit.

    The expansion inside me is happening at such a rapid pace, I frequently feel like I no longer recognize the person I’m becoming.

    My heart just keeps swelling in size, growing to hold more love, more life, more me.

    It doesn’t feel like a choice I’ve made.

    It doesn’t feel like a path I’ve decided to walk.

    It doesn’t feel like it’s in my control to stop it, even if I wanted to.

    And there have been plenty of moments I’ve wanted to press the brakes.

    Yet, still.

    I keep expanding.

    It’s simply happening in me, whether I accept it or not.

    So I’ve chosen to walk alongside it, rather than struggle to repress it.

    Even as the older, more entrenched parts of me fret with fear and anxiety.

    Even as others around me find it hard to relate and understand, their own beliefs and fears surfacing as they struggle to support my growth.

    I wake each day, and find myself ready again.

    Ready to deepen on this journey unfolding within me.

    Ready to find beauty where others see despair.

    Ready to keep moving forward, shaking off stagnancy and slumber.

    Ready to continue this practice of becoming fully awake in myself, and the world.

    I sometimes miss the simplicity I felt before, when life felt less complicated and there were fewer moving pieces to hold.

    Yet I know, I can’t go back.

    It’s simply not how transformation works.

    Even in my moments of overwhelm and bewilderment, I know I can’t trade my new wings for my old cocoon.

    And I wouldn’t want to.

    It’s scary at times and the learning curve is steep, but oh- the glory of these new surroundings!

    The exquisite, thrilling adventure of finally…

    Learning to fly.