Becoming someone new means grieving who you were.

Grief doesn’t mean you’re ungrateful.

It means you’re being real.

There was a version of you who did her best with what she knew.

She adapted.

She survived

She brought you here.

Of course, it’s hard to let her go.

But staying attached to who you were out of guilt can quietly turn into self-betrayal.

You don’t dishonour your past by growing.

You honour it by continuing forward.

Transitions are messy because they’re meant to be.

They’re shedding.

A remembering.

A return to what was always underneath.

You’re not broken for feeling tender, you’re becoming.

What are you ready to release even if it once protected you?

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