The Phoenix Process: The Art of Moving On and Evolving through Fire

It’s not a secret - I’m in pain, I’m mourning, and I just lost something so important to me. This is about me, not about you. So if you’re reading this, stop. When I give, I give freely, unconditionally. I give in all the ways I know how. I give 100% without fear of getting hurt. I know pain is the process of growth. I know navigating pain leads to leveling up. You don’t hold any piece of me anymore. I’ve let you go, completely. I still wish things ended differently, but I held on until you told me to let go. You let go. No promises, remember? If it was meant to be, it would have been. Clearly, it wasn’t meant to be. I don’t regret anything, because I tried my best. I really do wish you the best. I hope you move on and live a great life. It’s time for me to completely be free and writing is the best way I know how. Writing is therapeutic for me because it forces me to articulate my thoughts and feelings. Writing reminds me that I’m human. Writing is a lesson to future me, a snapshot in time, something I want to hold onto and keep. My memory fades and pictures fade. But my writing doesn’t. I also write for my friends. If they are going through something similar, I hope they remember that they are not alone. I may not be able to heal them, but I can offer compassion and empathy. I hurt. I don’t want to feel this way. I don’t usually hurt. I don’t usually cry - I rarely cry because I’m naturally not a very emotional person. When I do hurt, it’s momentary, it’s a feeling, and it’ll be gone as fast as it came. I know it’s just an emotion. It has no control over me. It’s there to alert me that something is making me feel hurt, or exhausted, or anxious. It’s like the warning light in a car. It’s going off. I am not afraid, because as long as I understand, as long as I have knowledge over it, I am not afraid. I can navigate. I can fix. I can problem solve. That’s how my brain is wired. I don’t fear what I know. What I know, cannot be scary. I fear the unknown. I fear what I don’t and can’t understand. Once I understand and acknowledge what’s hurting me, it no longer has control over me. I can control what happens next, to the extent of of my actions and ability. To the extent of my reality and what I have control over, I know what I am able and not able to do. I can let go, and I can be free. This is my way of letting go, so I can be free and spread my wings.

Acknowledging I’m hurting is the first step of moving on for me. There’s a few more steps: getting help, riding the emotions, and taking action to move on. They say time heals everything. It does and it has so far. I’ve hurt a lot before. But I won’t always feel this way. I know I’ll be okay again soon. Give it time, give it patience, and breathe. It will be gone just as fast as it came. Emotions are fleeting. What sticks in my mind are my thoughts and my logic. I was wired to think analytically, a series of if-thens, a series of what-ifs, and a series of back-up plans to back-up plans. I’d like to say I made myself this way but that wouldn’t be true. My dad is extremely logical and analytical. He lives in the world of wonder, of what-ifs, and what could be. He breathes technology and is fired up every day to make his visions into reality. He is an engineer and a businessperson by trade. My mom is the opposite. She is more emotional, practical, down to earth, and she cares more about what is. She is a nurturer, creative, and artistic. She is an avid reader and learner. It’s strange that they found each other and fell in love. They say opposites attract. They never said that opposites stick or are good for each other. But I’m grateful they did attract because that’s where I come into the story. I love them both, dearly. They remind me of myself. I see my DNA in them. I am theirs, and they are mine. I was born with logic being my north star. But my Mom, who was and is always there for me, told me the importance of EQ early on as I was growing up. She told me the importance of making meaningful relationships, of trying to be happy, of saving money, and of loving unconditionally. She loves to read and write and sing. So do I. They love to travel and be foodies. So do I. I know my Mom and Dad will always be a part of me, and so will my brother, because I have taken my favorite parts of them and made it a part of me. I am a metamorphosis, a constant piece of unfinished, changing work, a half-baked piece of code. I am a forever-changing change agent.

What a confusing, pushing and pulling concept. I was born with my head but my Mom taught me to value my heart. Today, I’m able to navigate between them and choose what to use and when. Today, I understand when to be logical and when to be emotional. Most of the time, I navigate in the waters that are natural to me because they are my strengths - my brain. But sometimes, I need to just feel and let my emotions go. If I think about my emotions, I’ll overanalyze them. I’ll trap them. They’ll trap me, suffocate me, and I’ll be in a paradox that I can’t get out of by myself. A catch-22. I think and therefore I am. I feel and therefore I am. But if I use my head and my heart, equally, I’m free. I know for me, people are at the center of all I do. I was born, I believe, to serve and help people. I was born, I believe, to solve hard, important problems. I won’t stop until I do. I will continue solving what I believe to be hard and important problems. I enjoy solving problems that are meaningful to me and make me feel like I’m contributing to a part of something greater. It’s how I show that I care, and I know I care about the world, about people, about equality, about loving, and about being the best version of myself. I believe I have one shot, and I have to make the most of it. No matter how long or short the ride, I’ll be making the most of my resources in the best way I know how. No matter where I end up or what happens to me, I just try to make the best decisions every day. One decision, one breathe, one problem, and one moment at a time.

I know when I feel out of control, I need help. It means I’ve exhausted all my cognitive power. I’ve hit the grind, and I’m out of fuel. It means I’m burnt out emotionally, and I need to let go. I’m exhausted, but I feel in control right now. It means I need to hear a new perspective from someone else. Someone that I trust and believe can help me. It means I need to reach out to my core group of friends and family via text, FaceTime, or whatever medium I feel appropriate. When I feel stuck, I go to my best friends. They are my peers as well as my mentors. It goes both ways. I try to be there for them too. They have seen my skeletons, the dark places my mind can go if I don’t use both my heart and my head, and they still love me despite my skeletons. They love me for all of me. I love them back - fully, and I always will. I am not afraid of my skeletons. I have already given them away and buried them, respectfully. Just like all else that I bury, I try to bury them with dignity and respect. I try to move on so they have no more power over me. They don’t control or own or haunt me. The past and the future don’t control me. They are just a piece of what it took to evolve into who I am today. They are painful, and I wish them not on my worst enemy. But I appreciate them, value them, for the lessons they taught me. I dislike pain. But one thing I value and appreciate more is learning. I’m willing to go through the pain to learn and evolve. The need to never stop improving drives me and is at the heart of everything I do.

I’m moving on. I’m letting go. I’ve gotten help and talked with my friends. They keep me sane and check my logic to make sure I’m not crazy. I respect their opinion more than anyone else’s. That why I share so much with them. I’m sorry. I’m really deeply sorry. I wanted to make sure I wasn’t crazy for what I did and how I felt. I wanted to help you, but you never let me help you. My friends are my family too. If you don’t like my friends, then you don’t like me. If you can’t hang out with my friends, then we’ll never work out. I’ve ridden the emotions - opened the door to them and let them be. They will leave out the back door soon. They say I’m hurting, and that’s okay. I’ll be okay, I know it. That’s how I ride my emotions. I acknowledge them, I breathe, and I keep on using my brain rather than purely feelings. I try to problem solve. The final step is taking action to moving on. I’m already here. I know, it’s been a short amount of time. I move fast, I break things. I break myself over and over again. I hurt, over and over again, because I want to grow. I want to learn. I’m willing to move fast and break myself if the process and the results justify the feelings. I’ve removed our memories permanently. I’ve removed things that remind me of you. I won’t text you back if you don’t text me because that would be holding onto you. I’m moving on. My eyes, my ears, and my heart are open. Life is fine. Life is good. Tonight, the sun will go down and the moon will come out. Tomorrow, the sun will rise again and life will be great again. Tomorrow is a new start, a new page, and a new day. I know it, I feel it, and I’m processing. I’m a phoenix. I will die a thousand times only to evolve and come out of this stronger - even if it pains me.