“Your life is wonderful and why you are breaking all these?” Everyone asked me.
My life is not breaking but it is changing form.
I called it Deconstruction and Restoration.
For a long time, I feared endings.
The end of a role.
The end of a version of myself.
The end of certainty.
Each ending felt like failure, like I had misjudged, miscalculated, or lost something I should have held onto. It had so much fear in the life that I created.
Transformation taught me something radically different.
There Is No True Loss — Only Change of Form
Transformation is not dramatic reinvention. It’s constant, subtle, and unavoidable.
Life moves through cycles of birth, growth, dissolution, and renewal.
And yet, we resist the dissolution phase the most.
I did too.
When parts of my life began to fall away — professional identity, familiar structures, old definitions of success — I tried to stabilise them. I white-knuckled my way through, convinced that if I just held on tighter, I could keep things as they were.
The more that I held so tightly including my mind and body’s protection. I felt suffocated and I heard, “let go now”…and I did not know what is that mean and how to let go but I felt into my protection heart had softened, shoulders felt lighter and tears overflowing like the waterfall. Heart was cracked and warm intense and over-powering feeling pouring out from inner heart to outer heart and I heard the sound of the cracked.
I no longer can hold and I surrendered. I let go.
I just allowed and trusted all.
Transformation doesn’t negotiate. It asks for participation, not running away but simply present with self, present with your heart.
Identity Deaths Are Not Failures
One of the most confronting realisations was this: the discomfort I felt wasn’t because something was wrong. It was because something was completing.
The woman I had been could no longer hold the life that was emerging.
This wasn’t regression. It was evolution.
But here’s the thing about evolution — it requires letting go of what once worked. And that can feel terrifying, even when you know intellectually that it’s necessary.
I remember sitting in my car one afternoon, feeling the weight of an identity that no longer fit. I’d built this version of myself so carefully, invested so much energy in becoming her. And now? She was dissolving, whether I consented or not.
The grief was real.
But so was the truth underneath it: dive deeper.
Experience Becomes Intelligence
Transformation revealed that nothing is wasted but everything is part of the journey.
Every experience, even the painful ones, became encoded knowledge in my body. I stopped to carry it forward as discernment, depth, and capacity.
This shifted how I related to my story.
I stopped trying to “fix” my past. I began to integrate it.
What I thought were mistakes became data points. What I thought were failures became foundations for deeper wisdom. The hard seasons weren’t obstacles to overcome — they were the learning in the living.
The Timeline Is Always Moving
Transformation is not linear.
You don’t move forward and leave the past behind. You spiral.
Old themes reappear, but at higher levels of awareness. When I recognised this, I stopped judging myself for revisiting familiar terrain.
I wasn’t repeating.
I was refining.
The same issue would surface again, and instead of thinking “Why am I still dealing with this?” I started asking “What am I learning this time that I couldn’t see before?”
The spiral isn’t failure. It’s how depth gets built.
Alchemy in Real Time
This principle taught me inner alchemy….to meet change consciously, to embrace endings fully, to let emotions move and our mind will be crystallise clear.
Change stopped feeling resistance. It became organic.
I learned to recognise the early signals.
The quiet knowing that something was shifting before the external structures reflected it. Instead of resisting those signals, I started listening to them.
And when the endings came, I let myself grieve them.
Not with drama, but with honesty.
Because denying and avoiding the grief only delays the transformation.
A Lived Inquiry
Instead of asking “Why is this happening again?” try asking “What level of me is being invited to evolve now?”
The answer often brings relief.
It shifts you from victim of circumstance to participant in your own becoming. It reminds you that transformation isn’t punishment — it’s invitation.
Embodied Integration
Transformation accelerates when you stop resisting it.
Each time you release identity instead of clinging, honour endings without self-judgment but self-compassion and allow grief to move, and creating space of what wanting to come through .
You create space.
And space is where the new version of you can take shape without having to fight the old version for room but integrate it.
Closing Reflection
I once thought transformation meant moving or changing myself from one to another one.
Now I know it’s how I became more of who I truly am.
Not because I forced it or controlled it, but because I learned to present and participate in it.
To trust the dissolution as much as the birth.
To see the endings not as failures, but as completions.
Nothing was breaking.
Everything was changing form.
And I now embody it.