The Ache of Becoming

You’re not behind. You’re becoming.

Author

crystie allen
July 11, 2025

Dearest Ember Soul,

There’s a specific ache that nobody really talks about — the ache of becoming.

It’s not the sharp, blistering pain of trauma. It’s not the white-hot shock of betrayal or the silent devastation of neglect. It’s something else entirely.

It’s the ache that comes when you’ve walked away from what broke you, but haven’t yet walked into what will rebuild you.

It’s this slow, foggy middle place — where you’re not who you used to be, but not yet who you’re becoming. And in that space, everything feels raw. Untethered. Confusing.

I remember standing outside talking on my phone to my friend Alexis 6 years ago watching the clouds go by and thinking:
"I don’t even know who I am anymore."
And not in an empowering “new woman” way.
In a hollow, floaty, grief-soaked way.

No one warned me that healing would feel like this.

No one told me that breaking free would sometimes feel like breaking down.

We don’t talk enough about the grief that comes from outgrowing the versions of ourselves that once kept us safe. Or the loneliness of building a new self from the ground up. Especially when the people around us still expect us to be who we were.

But here’s the quiet truth: this ache you feel? It’s not failure. It’s not stuckness.
It’s transformation. It just doesn’t feel like it yet.

And the ache of becoming is sacred.
It means you’re no longer abandoning yourself.
It means you’re beginning again.

And beginning is brave.

With You Always,

Crystie A.

Healing Tool: The Mirror Ritual

Purpose:
To witness and affirm the version of you that’s in progress — not polished, not perfect, just present.

What You’ll Need:

  • A mirror (handheld or full-length)

  • A quiet 5–10 minute window

  • A candle (optional for grounding atmosphere)

Steps:

  1. Light a candle and dim the lights if you can.

  2. Sit or stand in front of your mirror. Let your gaze soften.

  3. Say aloud:

    “I am not who I was. I don’t yet know who I’ll be but this version of me deserves love, too.”

  4. Keep eye contact with yourself. Just breathe. Let your reflection feel familiar again.

  5. Notice what arises — sadness, numbness, anger, even resistance. Just observe.

  6. Finish by placing your hand on your heart and whisper:

    “I’m still here. That’s enough for today.”

Reminder:

This is not about forcing confidence or self-love. It’s about presence. The version of you who’s in-between deserves to be seen.

Journal Prompt

“What parts of me are quietly growing in the dark -- even if no one sees them yet?”

Don’t try to make it perfect. Let the ache write this one for you. You don’t have to know where you are going but you just have to notice that you are still growing.

There’s no rush to bloom.

Even seeds break open in the dark.

Take your time. I’m proud of you.

With softness and solidarity,
Crystie 🧡

Let’s stay connected: