From a Caterpillar to a Butterfly

Ever wonder how symbolic the butterfly life cycle is?
How it's the perfect personification of the cycle of change?
So, if you want to learn how you can go from a caterpillar to your dream butterfly—
Read on.
And let me know what you think!

I. The Days and the People No One Talks About.

I feel like all these movies and books, and social media?
Even the metaphors for life we've heard more times than we can count?
They just skip to the highlights.
Because you do not know the lesson until you have lived through it.

Books and movies do not show the simple reality of existing and living the ordinary life.
They do not show the mundane moments before it all happened.
Some characters might've been waiting for a calling.
Some already got it.
And the inciting incident was just the frosting on the cake
They don't show the story of a person who dies too early.
They do not show the story of a person who played a very minor role. 
Because it does not matter to them.

It's the same in history;
The big picture is given, with details on what happened.
Why, how, but never the feelings.
The process, its incredibly damning nature, and the little people who made it all possible.
Nobody's going to talk about the teacher of that one reformer who saved the country.
Nobody's going to talk about the person who took care of them when they forgot to take care of themselves.
No one.

They also don't document each and every mundane day that passes for the character(s) in books and movies.
Nor do they do it for famous historical figures.
Because who wants mundane in escapism?
When the very thing we want to escape is the mundanity of our lives?
But the thing is—
It's not about always doing something exciting, or some inciting incident taking place that's all high-stakes.
It's about the tiny things.
Your transformative journey could take place wherever, whenever.
Even if it isn't as exciting as it is in the books.
Even if it is all just dialogue in your head and whispered confessions at night.
As long as it's full?
It's still transforming.

II. Fear of Success, the Comfort of Failure, & Change

"I don't want to be at my best, because the last time I did, it led to failure.
At least in a state of failure, I have hope of improving.
At my best—
I have the fear of falling."

Crawling might be more embarrassing than falling again and again, but it hurts a lot less.

Yes, falling hurts more than crawling.
But the only reason it hurts is due to the memory of being up.
That is the impact.
The sudden shift from up to down when the former's touch still lingers on you.
And it forever will.

The more you prolong it, the more it will hurt.
So.
Get.
Up.
With bruises that will heal over time.
Whose memory will forever linger over your body.
And that's okay.

You'll get up differently, to be a different person.
And that's fine.
Do not disable yourself.

I believe being scared of change is understandable.
So long as you accept your fear so you can overcome it.
I feel like people shame those who resist change because it's seen as old-fashioned.
Narrow-minded.
Cowardly.
Ignorant.
And maybe it is that.

But people fail to realize the deeper why behind it.
Positive change is like transforming from a caterpillar into a butterfly.
Reborn.
Remade.
Reinvented.
New.
Terrifying, all of those words.

Because people don't realize it means you have to let go.
Of who you are.
It's terrifying 'cause you think there won't be any trace of the real you left that way.
It might feel a bit like you're trying to don a costume you're unfamiliar with.
Unfamiliarity is terrifying because it's unpredictable.
And many humans have failed to live with unpredictability.

It's like deciding to add a new layer of paint to an acrylic painting.
It feels like you're covering up the original.
It can feel invalidating, even.
Disloyal.

And the thing is — in our society, change itself is often shamed.
I know it sounds strange.
But it’s in the little things.

Like when you were a kid, and you finally stopped doing that one thing that annoyed your parents —
And instead of celebrating, they said, “Since when did you become such a good child?”

Or when someone reacts to your growth with, “There’s no way you did that,” as if change isn’t part of being human.

We live in a culture that demands improvement but resents the proof of it.
People say they want us to grow — but only if we do it in a way that doesn’t make them uncomfortable, or challenge their old view of us.
They want change, but they don’t expect it.
And when it arrives, it startles them.
Sometimes even hurts them.
Because then, some of them wonder—
Why can't I change?

But that’s not your fault.
Change isn’t betrayal.
It’s growth.
It’s proof you’re alive.

And the thing is, that original version of you?
That's what makes the change so beautiful.
The canvas matters.
The caterpillar matters,
Because without them, the rest of it wouldn't exist,
The change wouldn't exist.
It all comes back down to who you were.

There's a fine line between foolishness and wisdom.
You must change in a way that doesn't make you as foolish as your past was, but still not as foolish as your present.
Wisdom is growth.
Wisdom is change.

There's a whole world out there for you to explore.
If you just got out of your shell.
Find thrill in the daunting.
Like a rollercoaster ride.
New experiences await.
A familiar but unfamiliar you awaits.

III. Gratitude & building your dream life

You need to love the now, because the future will hold echoes of it.
And if you can't love the now—
You won't be able to love the future.
Because the future will become the now.

Gratitude is not giving up.
I feel like in our society, a lot of people associate gratitude with giving up.
Why?
Because it seems like they're happy with what they have.
They don't feel the need to work harder.
But that's not what gratitude is.
Gratitude isn't wanting nothing more.
Gratitude's simply loving what you have now, too.
And being happy with it.

Life is a game.
And not in the sense that it's not sacred.
It is.

Life is like a ride at an amusement park.
It goes up and down.
But you choose which ride:
Roller coaster?
Spinning tea cups?
Merry-go-round?
Dodging cars?

And if you feel like you're not actually living it?
Maybe change up the type of game.
The type of ride.
One whose ups and downs you actually enjoy.

You probably think you're being ungrateful.
But maybe this is a sign that you need to build a life you actually like.
Either way?
That life starts with gratitude.
You need to ride life's waves instead of trying to jump on the next one.
It's a slow process.
Living your dream life isn't a change that happens overnight.
But building your dream life is a process you need to live.

Everything we do is a projection of who we are and who we are not.
So,
Who. Are. You?
And who are you not?

IV. Love, Self-Love, Self-Hate, & Identity

True love requires not being able to imagine your life without them.
But that's only possible when you've made your life so good, that when they come into it, it's like, "Wow. I didn't know I needed this."

You're still growing into the person who'll love them. And yes, they should love every version of you. But there's a certain version of you they'll fall in love with first. You must grow into that. Become it.

There's no such thing as right person, wrong time.
Because the right person will always find their way to you.
Even if neither of you were trying.
Because milestones like that?
They'll come when the time is right.
Because true love?
Inevitable.
You just have to be patient and leave it in God's hands.

For now?
Focus on developing yourself.
So you can love them right.
It's not about being perfect at love.
It's about loving them to the best of your ability when you're finally with them.

In order to be loved, you need to be someone too.
Not because you're unlovable otherwise.
It's for the plot of your life.
It'll become richer.
It's all about making your love story the best it can possibly be.

An excerpt from my journal:
"I lost my pen. After looking for it for a while, I gave up, intending to sleep and find it in the morning. I didn't give up, actually. I just postponed the task. I found it after I lay down and got up to turn off the light. Maybe that's how we'll find love."
We stop looking for it.
Not because we gave up.
But because instead of us finding love—
We let love find us.
An invisible string that pulls two unsuspecting individuals together.
Think about it.
The string isn't something you see.
And you're spending your energy on finding it, a fruitless task.
The string will bring you two together when the time is right.
So instead—
Why not spend that energy enriching your world?
So that when your worlds do collide—
It's the most beautiful collision ever.

"I've been avoiding acknowledging this, but I think one of the reasons why I refuse to love myself is because I think it's somebody else's job. Like I don't need to love myself. It's very weird. I never considered it as a child, I just existed."

"...I guess I'm scared that if I start loving myself, no one else will feel the need to love me."

Here’s the thing:
When we’re younger, we’re taught—directly or indirectly—that love is something that comes from the outside.
That it’s this prize you win if you're good enough, pretty enough, smart enough, funny enough.
That if someone else loves you, it proves you’re worth something.

So of course, the idea of loving yourself feels like... cheating?
Or stealing someone else's job?

But here's the truth, and I need you to hear this:
Loving yourself doesn't take away someone else's chance to love you.
It just means you're not starving while you wait.

You’re not saying, “No one else can love me.”
You’re saying, “I refuse to be empty in the meantime.”

If anything, loving yourself teaches others how to love you.
It sets the standard.
It’s like telling the world, “This is how I deserve to be treated. Take notes.”

And the scariest part?
You're afraid that if you start loving yourself… no one else will bother to.
That they’ll think, “Oh, she’s fine, she doesn’t need me.”

But that’s not how real love works.
Real love isn't born from someone's need to save you.
It’s born from connection, from truth, from admiration, and joy.
From someone seeing you love yourself and thinking, "Wow. I want to be close to that light."

You don’t have to love yourself perfectly, or loudly, or all at once.
You can just begin.
Quietly.
On your own terms.
With a small “I deserve to rest today” or “I’m proud of how far I’ve come.”
Bit by bit.
No pressure.
No performance.
Just you, learning that your own love was never a threat—it was always your anchor.

Also—
Self-hate is not productive.
Why would you want someone you hate to succeed?
Hate is strong.
And exhausting.
If you wouldn't hate anyone else, why yourself?

The way you treat yourself is the way you treat others.
Forgiveness isn't just something you need to practice with others.
It's also something you need to practice with yourself.
Yes, you need to be critical of your being.
But you also need to approach it with positivity.

So, forgive yourself.
And start over.
Become that butterfly.
Become that painting.

V. The Dam and the Flood

"It feels like I'm destroying a dam, but I'm scared because I think the water will drown me."

That's probably what it feels like after you've read this.

That dam—you built it for a reason.
It wasn’t a weakness.
It was protection.
From the ache, from the loneliness, from the terrifying possibility that if all that emotion came rushing out, it would swallow you whole.

But what if the water isn’t there to drown you?

What if it’s there to carry you?

Grief, rage, tenderness, love, shame, longing—none of them want to hurt you.
They just want to be seen.
They’ve been pressed against the dam for so long, waiting for you to say, “I see you. You’re real. And you’re allowed to be here.”

And yeah, at first?
It might feel like you’re breaking.

But you’re not breaking.
You’re releasing.

You’ve kept yourself standing behind that wall for so long—always bracing, always holding back.
That’s exhausting.
It’s okay to let go.
Even if it’s messy.
Even if you sob so hard your chest hurts.
Even if all you do is lie on the floor and breathe.

Let the water rise.
Let it crash.
And then… let it settle.

And when it does?
You’ll find you’re still standing.
Softer, but stronger.
No longer barricaded, but buoyant.

You are not too much.
You are not too fragile.
And you are not alone in this.