Unmaking and Becoming

There are seasons when everything we’ve built begins to come apart.

The stories we’ve told ourselves no longer hold.

The roles we’ve played no longer fit.

The life we’ve carefully constructed begins to fracture—not as punishment, but as invitation.

This is the unmaking.

It can feel like failure. Like something’s wrong.

Like you’re what’s broken. Especially when your body starts to speak in symptoms—chronic pain, anxiety, depression.

But what if your pain isn’t pathology?

What if it’s the body’s way of refusing to keep living in ways that dishonor your truth?

What if what feels like breaking down is actually breaking open?

So many of the people I work with carry the shame of not being able to hold it all together.

They’ve been told to manage, to cope, to adjust.

But deep down, their system knows—this life was never meant to be endured. It was meant to be lived.

We’ve been conditioned to believe that pain is a problem to fix.

But what if it’s a compass?

What if it’s pointing you toward something truer?

Unmaking is not the end.

It’s a passage.

A clearing.

A place where the old structures fall away so something more honest can emerge.

This is the space where becoming begins.

Becoming is rarely graceful.

It doesn’t arrive with clarity and confidence.

It arrives with questions. With grief. With the trembling uncertainty of stepping into what’s next before you can fully name it.

But this is also where you meet yourself.

In the void left behind, you begin to remember what matters.

You learn to listen—to your body, your longing, your limits.

You stop performing and start participating in your own becoming.

This is what my healing work is about.

Not forcing the pieces back together, but honoring what wants to fall apart.

Not numbing the symptoms, but listening for the deeper signal.

Not making you into someone new—but helping you become more fully who you already are underneath the survival strategies.

If you find yourself in the in-between—no longer who you were, not yet who you’re becoming—know that this too is a sacred space.

This is the threshold.

This is the work.

This is where meaning begins to take root.

You are not lost.

You are being remade.