Swipe Left On Perfection

Imaginal Cells

I walked the earth with heavy, measured pace, Consuming every lesson in my way.
I wore a grounded, unassuming face,
And gathered up the fragments of the day.
But soon the quiet urged me to retreat,
To spin a fragile dark around my chest.
A hanging silence, absolute, complete,
Where I could lay my tired form to rest.
But in the dark, the great undoing starts.
I am not resting; I am breaking down.
A quiet dissolution of my parts,
Where former shapes and certainties all drown.

My very structure melts into a sea,
A liquid chaos where I lose my name.
The things that used to build the core of me,
Are turning into ash without a flame.
Yet in this storm of what I used to be,
A hidden, sleeping blueprint now awakes.
Imaginal, profound, and finally free,
It gathers up the ruin that it takes.
The old must melt to forge the new design;
The past is not erased, but rearranged.
Rebuilding muscle, wing, and fragile spine,
From everything I was, completely changed.
The shell cracks open, letting in the sky.
I push against the walls that held my grief.
Unfolding wings I never thought to try,
I dry my colors on a sunlit leaf.
I am the crawler, melted and unmade,
Now riding on the currents of the air.
I had to let my former body fade,
To find the flight that waited for me there.

A quick note on the metaphor: Today I watched a video about a caterpillar’s life journey and broke into a million pieces. I never understood what was happening to the caterpillar. During metamorphosis, a caterpillar actually digests itself, releasing enzymes that break down all of its tissues. What survives are highly organized clusters called “imaginal discs.” These surviving cells use the protein-rich soup of the dissolved caterpillar to fuel the rapid building of the butterfly’s eyes, wings, and legs. It’s a perfect reflection of how our past experiences (even the messy, broken-down ones) become the exact fuel we need to build our future selves. The metamorphosis of a butterfly is often romanticized, but the biological reality: the absolute dissolving of the old self into a chaotic, liquid soup before rebuilding is a powerful, sometimes painful, and deeply fitting metaphor for real human growth.

I feel with each life change, a need to restore peace and make changes to my life. I become more of that butterfly. BUT even as a caterpillar, I was always going to be a butterfly. The only person to stay through the whole process has been me. And that was what healing is. I showed up. I tried. And my effort was never in vain. Though I’ve failed to reach people I was trying to love, if understanding has left the room and no one is big enough to speak beyond their shame, connection dies.

And my heart has always said anything could be saved. I’m not sure I believe that anymore. But I do believe what is meant to be will be and I’ll be okay. Finally securely attached to myself.

I’ve learned a lot actually about myself over the last 4 months.

I would rather dissolve the old habits that made people like me for what I could do for them or be to them to be the person I truly am and be accepted for me. I am AudHD navigating CPTSD. And when it comes to a partner, I want the same…. Understanding. Acceptance. If I’m asking for that, I should also be giving that in return. And do, in the form of spotting people’s harmful patterns and trying to point them out to help them.

Bringing up something I see should never scare away the right people. Defensive people, emotionally immature people, and ones not willing to have accountability. I’m going to scare them away. And that’s okay.

After all, isn’t that what loving someone means? Not enabling them to lose themselves?