The Unravelling Finale: The End of an Era

I saw a TikTok the other day of someone saying that when people place you on a pedestal, they have no empathy for you. If you’re not new here, you know I’ve written an article about this. In her video, she mentioned that her post was inspired by something she read.

Instantly, I thought “OMG maybe she saw my post!”

And then I paused for a moment to think…

…

…

And then it hit me.

“Wait. Have I become so wounded that the type of content I’d ‘inspire’ someone to make is about something negative?”

…

My heart sank.

Ever since I started creating content back in 2016/2017 on my blog, my goal was always to uplift and inspire women to become the best version of themselves. My content has always been geared towards that purpose.

So how did we get here?

How did we get to the point where my content could inspire think pieces that put you in a victim mentality?

The creator didn’t actually mention me, and it’s very possible that I wasn’t the inspiration behind her post. But the fact that it’s even a possibility unsettles me.

So how did we get here?

Well… it has everything to do with the unravelling — the disappointments, the grief, and the slow and painful death of who I was.

Throughout the series and over the last couple of months, I’ve been diving into my unravelling from 2025 and the lessons I’ve learned.

And here’s the thing…

It might sound weird, but I think a part of me refused to let the pain go because sometimes it felt like I was the only one who acknowledged my feelings. The people I lost that I was once very close to certainly didn’t. And even God didn’t seem moved by how I was falling apart in the midst of it all because He didn’t stop it when I begged Him to. I felt completely isolated and heartbroken.

And even though I’m no longer in that sunken place, I’d occasionally visit it mentally and emotionally as if to tell that version of myself that I see her. That I haven’t forgotten how she felt. That I care, because it felt like not many people did. And that was a devastating thing to come to terms with.

I knew I had crossed over into the next version of myself — Me 2.0, if you will — but I was struggling to maintain that identity because I couldn’t fully let go of the old one. I was trying to do two things at once — honor the version of me that was hurt while remaining committed to the version of me I was becoming.

Sometimes it felt like I was glitching. I’d be showing up as Me 2.0 and then suddenly get hit with a flashback of the hurt version of me and feel myself drop back into her pain and perspective.

Other times I’d spend so much time honoring her feelings and giving her the compassion she never received that I’d realize I’d handed her the steering wheel again. Then I’d feel a pull from Me 2.0 telling me that I was out of alignment and I had to rise above the pain.

And I created from that torn place.

I shared my story about realizing there was an imbalance in my relationships because of the performance I had spent years maintaining. I wrote about the pedestal I was placed on. I wrote about how much I hated vulnerability. I wrote about the lessons, the disappointments, and the unraveling itself.

In many ways, I was giving a voice to the version of me who didn’t have one back then because she was too overwhelmed by what she was living through to put words to it.

I did believe that it was important to share because I wish someone had explained it to me back when I felt that things were off but didn’t have the language.

But the problem was that I got too attached to it. Holding on to it to prove something to my old self. Trying to prove that someone cared that she was hurt. Someone cared about how much she cried.

I thought it was self-compassion, but it was actually self-sabotage.

Behind the paywall, I’m going to unpack:

• The unexpected grief that comes with choosing yourself and the life you actually want

• What it’s really like after you make it out of the in-between phase (spoiler: it’s not what you think)

• The revelation that literally made me sit up in bed and put everything into perspective, becoming a major turning point in my journey

• The hidden culprit that laid dormant and prevented me from fully stepping into my new identity (I caught the performance, but somehow missed this one)