The Cocoon Stage

The growing pains have been the most severe I’ve ever encountered recently. Every day, I feel like my brain is going to explode out of my head, or I am about to have a heart attack. I do my best to try and regulate and be patient as my life around me seems to slowly evolve. I saw a video of a guy talking about butterflies in their cocoon stages. If you were to break a butterfly out of its cocoon instead of letting the butterfly break out itself, it causes the butterfly to not be able to fly. Why? Because the strength necessary to break out of the cocoon is the strength necessary to learn how to fly.

Patience is key… but not only patience, pain. Maybe not specifically pain, but emotions, especially the painfully hard ones to feel. I wrote in my last Substack that I tend to intellectualize my emotions, and this is not a good thing. Obviously, this is a protection—a protection from feeling. I was quick to find out why I was heavily protecting myself from all the feelings I had intellectualized for years. I mention feeling like my brain is going to explode earlier because this was one of the side effects of trying to feel my feelings. Honestly, I’m rolling my eyes at myself, but looking back, that shit was so real and painful it changed how I look at life and myself. I think most people understand pain is necessary. My favorite saying is “a little heartbreak is good for the soul.” How can you truly appreciate your growth without recognizing and loving your pain? I recently faced some of the scariest demons I didn’t know could have access to me, the type that changed my brain chemistry. These moments were so scary and life-threatening I would never want to relive them as the broken person I was in those moments, but would I ever erase these moments from my life? No. Honestly, the wound is still so fresh, yet I can see that looking at darkness directly in the eyes proves to have light in the center trying to shine through.

Be kind to yourself, respect your struggles, patiently feel your feelings—cry, scream, punch a pillow, go on a run, do a headstand, a cartwheel, sing as loud as you can in the shower or your car, dance with every part of your body. Do it as passionately as possible until it doesn’t feel serious anymore and you’re left laughing at yourself, wondering why you started clenching your jaw in the first place. Put yourself in time out like a little child that was throwing a fit. Usually, feeling the emotion itself was never that serious once you allow yourself to feel. You can finally move on. You can appreciate whatever is left from that experience.