Change Demands Ruin First. Then Resurrection. ⚰️
"The snake that cannot shed its skin must perish." — Friedrich Nietzsche
I said I wanted a fresh start,
then clung to the rubble
like it owed me something.
I kept the keys to doors
I swore I’d never open again,
stacked the broken pieces
where no one could see the mess
but me.
Turns out,
it’s easy to want new walls.
Harder to swing the hammer.
Everyone loves the “after” photo.
The one where your eyes are clearer.
Where you speak with more confidence.
Where peace lives in your spine.
"Everyone wants change, but few are ready for the dismantling it requires."
But not enough people talk about what happens before that.
The collapse.
The part where everything you built around your pain starts to fall apart.
The friendships you outgrew.
The beliefs you clung to.
The coping strategies that once saved you but now sabotage you.
Transformation isn’t just becoming something new.
It’s unbecoming everything false.
And that hurts like hell.
Because real change doesn’t just shift behaviors. It deconstructs identities.
The overachiever.
The fixer.
The peacemaker.
The avoider.
Gone.
And what’s left in the middle?
The shaking, aching mess of a human being who's finally honest enough to admit…
“I don’t know who I am without the mask.”
But that moment…
That’s the beginning of real power.
Because the person you become after you stop pretending…
That person can’t be shaken.
These small notes arrive quietly,
like morning light through a cracked window.
No noise. Just truth.
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Ask yourself:
“What part of my identity feels the most threatened by my own healing?”
Maybe it’s the one who always says yes.
Maybe it’s the one who never cries.
Maybe it’s the version of you that stays silent to be liked.
Write it down.
Then ask:
“What would happen if that part no longer defined me?”
If your answer includes panic, you’re on the right track.
That’s not fear.
That’s the sound of your false self being evicted.
Change isn’t pretty.
It’s not a clean before-and-after.
It’s blood.
It’s confusion.
It’s silence.
It’s screaming.
And then… clarity.
Not the kind handed to you.
The kind forged by surviving the storm you started by telling the truth.
So if you feel like you’re falling apart?
You might not be broken.
You might just be shedding.
Let it happen.
Don’t fight the dismantling.
Welcome it.
That’s not the end.
That’s the beginning of you.
What have you had to let go of in order to heal?
Was it a role? A belief? A relationship? An identity?
What happened when you stopped defending what was breaking you?
If you’re open, share it. Let’s normalize the in-between. The ugly middle. The sacred mess.
That’s where the real story lives.
If you’re here, you’re part of something real, something that holds space for healing without the need to perform. I don’t take that lightly.
If this space feels like home.
If it holds your ache, your becoming, your breath.
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However you choose to support, whether by sharing, buying a coffee, or simply showing up… thank you. Truly.
If you think these gentle words cut deep, wait until you read Shadow Thoughts. That’s where I let the truth bleed without cleaning it up for anyone.
