
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
– “The Road Less Traveled” by Robert Frost
This blog, Birthing the Butterfly, is a documentation of my journey through a metamorphosis.
It’s about changing my life, releasing the desire to contain, control, consume. It’s about letting go of things, changing patterns, breaking my addictions. It’s about exercising, eating healthier and losing weight. It’s about pursuing my dreams, all the things that I’d somehow convinced myself I couldn’t achieve because, because and because. Those excuses are powerless. There is still time.
It’s about wishing well the people who I know don’t mean me well—even if it’s simply because they don’t mean themselves well and in the process of their self-destruction, they attempt to destroy others. They are all, one by one, being ushered out of my life. Even if I once called those people friends. Even if those people are family members.
Where should I begin? I know; I’ll begin with the day, not so very long ago, when I woke up and realized I didn’t love the life I was living. More than that, I didn’t even like it. I used to believe that I knew myself pretty well, but suddenly I no longer recognized the person I saw, or the life she was living. Who was this overweight woman who was always so busy ghostwriting books and speeches for other people that she didn’t have any time to write her own books, read her colleagues’ books (or any other books for that matter), or even hang out with her friends? Who was this woman who rarely ever laughed, who hated the work she was doing, hated the people she was around and dreaded waking up each morning to face the same reality?
I’d traveled far, far away from myself, from the woman I used to know, the woman I loved, and ended up in a role that I loathed. I was everybody else’s caretaker and yet I wasn’t taking care of myself. And I paid a price for that with my health. I had my blood drawn a few days ago and the results just knocked the wind out of me. I am a walking, ticking time bomb. The life I’ve been living is not a recipe for longevity.
I know what’s in my heart; I know what feeds my soul.
What does “birthing the butterfly” mean?
It means moving forward. It means growing, changing, surrendering old habits, old beliefs, all the old ways of being and doing that no longer serve me. It means embracing joy and honoring the pains and pleasures of transformation.
It’s about falling in love with my life again, doing what I love, being with those I love, giving myself permission to be myself—fully, unapologetically.
One of my favorite refrigerator magnet quotes is: Just when the caterpillar thought the world was over, it became a butterfly.
“Birthing the Butterfly” means believing that at the end result of this metamorphosis is that I will have wings, and I will soar.
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