Molting

After what feels to be a very long time, I am finally posting to this blog. I’ve been doing some healing. This year has been a season of change, working through personal struggles and finding balance in this new phase of life. I’m starting to feel like myself - look, I’m writing again! I’m coming back but as a new version of myself.

I’ve been working with a life coach (yes, I’ve been trying life coaching and am loving it, maybe I’ll share more details on that, but that’s for another time). My life coach, Olivia, is awesome! Thanks for putting us in touch Jenny.

Years ago, among my friends, we had joked about the titles of our memoirs. Since doing that, I have thought of my life in various chapters; for instance, the title when I was 23 was “What the fuck is going on” because life felt (and was) absurd. You get the idea. 

This came up in a session, and Olivia asked what I would title this chapter of life. The first thing that came to mind was “molting.” MOLTING. Deep down in my neural pathways, this word shot to the forefront for some odd reason because who in their right mind has given a single thought to molting in their everyday life? How I conjured it is still a mystery, but that unglamorous word is the best summarization of this period for me. I felt further validated after reviewing the definition: 

Molt | /mōlt/ | verb

gerund or present participle: molting

  1. (of an animal) shed old feathers hair, or skin, or an old shell, to make way for a new growth.

    • (of hair or feathers) fall out to make way for new growth.

(Oxford Languages)

“To make way for new growth” instantly resonated with me. I laughed at how accurate it felt. I find affect labeling powerful since it allows me to assign a succinct name to what I am experiencing and further process it. 

Anchored by the sentiment of molting coupled with the change from summer to fall, I began to reflect more. Fall naturally lends itself to transitions with darker days and amber leaves, so I leaned into my major life transitions. Part of the definition of molting echoes a surrender to the natural process. With the onset of the equinox, there are metaphors of shedding, shifting, and evolving, undertones of peeling back to layers to reveal the true self, to pause and celebrate it for all it is.

All of this has allowed me a chance to step back and ponder. Since April, I haven’t fully felt myself, a tad off, if you will. It’s been for many reasons, all rooted in bigger life changes that compounded. Though an emotional rollercoaster at times, I began to observe my tendencies. I’m noticing I have less energy, less fucks to give, less time to dedicate to particular activities. I have more responsibilities, especially now living on my own. I have mastered certain areas of my life, but am learning and growing in others. Failing too. I’m eager to fail, to learn what doesn’t work as I try to find the right things for me.

I feel older. I can draw on my own past experiences and distill the wisdom or lessons I need. I’ve been finding more gray hair, *yay* (I am self-conscious about this but working on it! I think a lot of us are). Also, Botox seems more omnipresent, so much so it makes you question if you should be getting injections too. I’m personally not interested in Botox, but I do find it peculiar. I’m getting off-topic now, anyway…

The late twenties are important. I’ve come to realize childhood is built upon the foundation of your parental figures imparting their ideals and beliefs; late teens are a period where those morals are being confronted, and exposed to new ways of thinking by moving more into society with college or work; early twenties offer new experiences and annotations to the life playbook based on what has served you best; late twenties seem to be the sweet spot, a moment to step back and take stock of everything the manual has to offer and actively choose what is most important to you. There are no outside influences, every decision is based on your own accord. The late twenties feel like a rebirth of defining who you want to be.  

I am returning to myself, though it is now a new version of me. I’m allowing myself to gain more clarity and redefine what I want out of life while exploring all possibilities. Like leaves on a tree, I’m relinquishing the “shoulds” I have so desperately held onto because I thought they gave me purpose. I’ve always shied away from change because I’m particular about things. Resisting change causes friction. Change is the agent of growth. 

As I reevaluate what is important, I am moving towards what serves me and my needs. I’m trying to become less attached to the expectation and instead focus on the process. In my reflections, I realized that I hope to care less about what other people think and to choose the things I’m excited about - no one but myself has to understand why certain things bring me joy. I’m also kind of excited to fail. You have to be bad when you start anything new. I have always harbored this fear of making mistakes. This mentality ultimately holds me back from taking any form of action thus rendering me stagnant. That’s never going to get me anywhere. 

I’m writing this because it feels significant to me. A lot is changing. I hope to do a lot of growing. I know a lot of this was broad strokes of generalizations, but maybe you can draw some ideas for yourself.

I’m happy to be writing again and to feel inspired. I like molting. It’s a reminder for me that life’s not always glamorous. Hopefully, I may look back with fondness and understanding of how crucial this time was for my personal development. If anything, I’ve begun to shed a few leaves as I embark on this next chapter.

LifeGreta GraindaComment