This Isnβt a Healing Era: This Is a Metamorphosis
Beyond vibes and filtersβ¦. this is your awakening
Donβt box this season in with cute words. This isnβt a vibe or your healing era.
Era sounds cute. Like itβs a fleeting trend, or another aesthetic to curate in soft filters and post as proof of your self-awareness.
Butβ¦.
This isnβt a Pinterest board mood. This is a metamorphosis.
Itβs a soul shedding, a complete unravelling of everything you once called truth. This is BECOMING.
Real healing doesnβt look like soft spoken affirmations with candlelight.
It looks like nights where youβre pacing your room with clenched fists asking God why. It looks like breaking your own heart by choosing yourself over and over again.
It looks like grief, rage and silence that feels violent. Like loneliness so dense you can hear your own soul echo back.
This isnβt a vibeβ¦..
This is you peeling away the narratives stitched to your skin before you even knew your own name.
This is you realising the blueprint you were following was never yours.
This is you burning the bridge to everything that demanded you to shrink.
This is you burying parts of yourself that were never meant to survive in the first place.
Itβs brutal work. Itβs not curated or branded. Itβs not something you do for an audience, because metamorphosis is ugly before itβs beautiful.
β± ASK THE CATERPILLAR
It dissolves into a soupy darkness inside its cocoon before it ever grows wings.
β± ASK THE SNAKE
It scrapes its old skin against rock and dirt, tearing itself free, leaving behind the suffocating layer that no longer fits.
Its transformation is not a bloom but a rupture. A violent peeling away that leaves it tender, exposed, rawβ¦. but alive.
β± ASK THE PHOENIX
It doesnβt rise with glitter and gold dust. It burnsβ¦. It turns itself to ashes before anything new can be born.
They donβt bloom into beauty. They bleed into it. They rupture, disintegrate, and die before they rise.
And isnβt that what youβre doing?
Dying to everything you thought you had to be. Letting the old skin rot while a new one, raw and fragile, emerges beneath it.
So no, this isnβt your healing era. This is your rebirth. And rebirth isnβt pretty, itβs powerful.
Itβs not a chapter you close and move on from. Itβs the book you rewrite from the ashes. The life you resurrect with blood, sweat, and bone-deep truth.
Hereβs a reflection for you:
β’ Where are you mistaking your disintegration for destruction?
β’ What old skin are you afraid to shed right now?
β’ What if the breaking isnβt an ending, but the only way to be born whole?
β’ What part of you is currently dying so something truer can be born?
β’ Who will you become when you finally let it fall away?
β’ Are you brave enough to honor this season without trying to brand it?
If this whispered truth to you, share it. Someone else is waiting for a sentence to set them free.
If you crave raw, unfiltered truths of becoming, hit that subscribe button. We donβt romanticize our becoming here, we bleed into beauty, and rise like a phoenix π¦βπ₯
With love,
Becky
Show some love here, if my words flirted with your soulβ¦. flirt back ππ«Άπ»
Got it grl! π«‘ππΌβ€οΈ
Love the post it's been a long time since I last read your post. Now I have a long reading list to read from you!