Thank you so much for this writing, it’s felt like a firm but kind reminder to keep going to keep unspooling until you’ve rid yourself of others perceptions. So that you can build something with strong foundations. I think that when we are so desperate for other people’s perspective on ourselves and how we’re perceived, we compromise any stability. We believe we’ve built a steady house until something inevitably eats away at the floorboards or ploughs through a wall or the pipes start to rot - that’s when we know we have to start anew. But it’s terrifying not having any shelter, because poor shelter is better than none right? I like your idea of being soft and vulnerable in the time after you’ve shed your skin. I’ve found that it feels like purgatory even though I’m not entirely religious, am I leaping into something heavenly or am I going to fall on the back of my head? Once again, it’s wonderful to read writing that fills the reader up with joy. Thank you!
Maryam, thank you for such a thoughtful response. I love the way you’ve described the process of unspooling—there’s so much truth in that image of building and rebuilding, of realizing how fragile those foundations can be when shaped by others’ perceptions. It really does feel like purgatory, doesn’t it? i think it’s that vulnerability, though, that makes the rebuilding possible. Softness, even when everything is unstable, becomes its own kind of strength. I’m so glad my writing resonated with you, and I appreciate you sharing your reflections with me—it’s always a gift to see how words can connect us in these deeper ways. thank you so much for taking your time out to read this <3
Hauntingly beautiful! The way you describe the slow unraveling and necessary destruction before rebirth is so raw and relatable. There’s a quiet power in letting yourself fall apart to make room for something new. It’s a reminder that growth isn’t always a graceful process—it’s messy, painful, and full of vulnerability. But there’s strength in that softness. Thank you for capturing that truth so perfectly.
this made me cry. cry true fucking sobs. it's terrifying how as soon as i needed to hear this i read this. thank you. you're so eloquent, this not only touched my soul, but caressed it, kissed it, let it twist into freedom. thank you for writing this out and sharing it with the world. thank you.
thank you so much tanit for sharing this with me. It means everything to know the words reached you in such a deep way, especially when you needed them. i’m grateful that something i wrote could offer even a moment of release or freedom for you. your response really touched me—thank you for reading and for feeling it so openly.
Each and every line was as beautiful as the most beautiful diamonds of the world, carefully encrusted together to make the most beautiful crown, which is your post. Sorry, if this was too cringe😅
But that’s what I felt. Each and every line shakes us with a truth bomb slightly allowing our minds to get ready for the moment of shedding our skins. ♥️✨
“…but they never tell you about the space in between. The moment when you are nothing but a heap of discarded pieces, waiting for something new to take shape.”
this gave me chills and left me wanting more at the same time; you have described a feeling that I’ve definitely experienced, but could never put into words like this
Thank you so much for this writing, it’s felt like a firm but kind reminder to keep going to keep unspooling until you’ve rid yourself of others perceptions. So that you can build something with strong foundations. I think that when we are so desperate for other people’s perspective on ourselves and how we’re perceived, we compromise any stability. We believe we’ve built a steady house until something inevitably eats away at the floorboards or ploughs through a wall or the pipes start to rot - that’s when we know we have to start anew. But it’s terrifying not having any shelter, because poor shelter is better than none right? I like your idea of being soft and vulnerable in the time after you’ve shed your skin. I’ve found that it feels like purgatory even though I’m not entirely religious, am I leaping into something heavenly or am I going to fall on the back of my head? Once again, it’s wonderful to read writing that fills the reader up with joy. Thank you!
Maryam, thank you for such a thoughtful response. I love the way you’ve described the process of unspooling—there’s so much truth in that image of building and rebuilding, of realizing how fragile those foundations can be when shaped by others’ perceptions. It really does feel like purgatory, doesn’t it? i think it’s that vulnerability, though, that makes the rebuilding possible. Softness, even when everything is unstable, becomes its own kind of strength. I’m so glad my writing resonated with you, and I appreciate you sharing your reflections with me—it’s always a gift to see how words can connect us in these deeper ways. thank you so much for taking your time out to read this <3
i know i probably will re-read this every once in a while
elena thank you! It’s always special when something resonates deeply enough to revisit. I'm really glad it struck a chord with you!
Hauntingly beautiful! The way you describe the slow unraveling and necessary destruction before rebirth is so raw and relatable. There’s a quiet power in letting yourself fall apart to make room for something new. It’s a reminder that growth isn’t always a graceful process—it’s messy, painful, and full of vulnerability. But there’s strength in that softness. Thank you for capturing that truth so perfectly.
hallyn, i’m really glad the rawness and vulnerability came through for you. thank you so much for reading this <3
it's descriptively mesmerizing to read! made my morning routine better 🫶
thank you so much, den!!
this made me cry. cry true fucking sobs. it's terrifying how as soon as i needed to hear this i read this. thank you. you're so eloquent, this not only touched my soul, but caressed it, kissed it, let it twist into freedom. thank you for writing this out and sharing it with the world. thank you.
thank you so much tanit for sharing this with me. It means everything to know the words reached you in such a deep way, especially when you needed them. i’m grateful that something i wrote could offer even a moment of release or freedom for you. your response really touched me—thank you for reading and for feeling it so openly.
your writing leaves me in awe every time!
that really means a lot to me. kendra, thank you so much for reading this
Each and every line was as beautiful as the most beautiful diamonds of the world, carefully encrusted together to make the most beautiful crown, which is your post. Sorry, if this was too cringe😅
But that’s what I felt. Each and every line shakes us with a truth bomb slightly allowing our minds to get ready for the moment of shedding our skins. ♥️✨
wow ritwik, thank you so much! definitely not cringe at all—i’m genuinely touched by your words
i deeply love the theme of change and reborn and you wrote about it so beautifully, really capturing its magic
thank you so much for your kind words elena !!
beautifully written
thank you so much <3
I wish I had heard/known these words so many times this life!!! 💕🙏
Sure did your words Awakened many souls reading this .. Arigato 💙🙏
“…but they never tell you about the space in between. The moment when you are nothing but a heap of discarded pieces, waiting for something new to take shape.”
This is me right now.
Thanks for this piece. I’ll keep it as a reminder
this is so brilliant! thank you for sharing 💗
Chills all over.
this gave me chills and left me wanting more at the same time; you have described a feeling that I’ve definitely experienced, but could never put into words like this