“It’s in the chaos, the destruction of who we thought we were, that the possibility of something new emerges. We often resist this fall, clinging to what is familiar, afraid of the unknown that awaits below. But to rise, we must first descend. Sometimes, we need to go even further down, beyond rock bottom, stripping away all the layers of our old selves that no longer serve us. This journey into the depths is terrifying, messy, and isolating, but it’s necessary. Only by confronting our darkness, our failures, and our vulnerabilities can we create space for the light to return. In that destruction, we are not lost, we are liberated. From the ashes of what once was, a new version of ourselves can emerge — stronger, wiser, and more authentic. The descent is not a punishment; it’s a prerequisite for growth. As Nietzsche said, “that which does not kill us makes us stronger,” (not sure if you’ve heard that one before), and it’s through this crucible of self-destruction that we are truly reborn.”

I heard this passage on an instagram reel and I thought… this. is. the one.

I almost want to say two stars, would not recommend. Don’t reinvent yourself. Because the process can be slow, uncomfortable, non-linear, and demoralizing at times. But it would be foolish not to. It’s bound to be one of the most 5-star experiences a human being can have, so I intend to go all the way. But admittedly, it’s one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do.

I suppose the greatest people we know went through the arduous process of reinvention. Like Ice Cube, who went from gangster rap to family-friendly movies. (Pause for laughs). At one point, I was trying to do comedy bits at this storytelling event, (Lauren and Tom were obviously here for that phase). I received a gentle email asking me to please stop, and that someone was deeply offended by my jokes about the Amish.

LOOK AT ME NOW.

The theme “reinvention” is a therapist’s dream. There could be many chapters on this topic, and I’m sitting here reflecting on what I would like to share with you guys. And I think the point I’ll try to make is, “going all the way” when you enter a process of re-invention.

When I was 15 years old I made myself throw up for the first time. And I didn’t stop for over a decade. Looking back, it’s strange how easy it was to put off the process of reinvention. In high school, in college, and after college — how was I able to binge and purge for over a decade and think, this is probably fine… It was easy to compartmentalize (I can never say that word, nor spell it), and ignore my behavior with food, because when my head wasn’t in the toilet, I thought I was doing well enough, even well! People in my life, my family, the guy I was dating at the time, viewed me as confident, and strong. They were shocked to find out that I was bulimic, “you?!” And I too was shocked, that something in me was rejecting me, and something in me was acting out so violently in an attempt to get my attention, and I just didn’t know what it was.

I stopped and relapsed so many times. And at a certain point, I learned to not be ashamed of my setbacks, and this helped me along the way. The bulimia stopped, it was no small feat, but it did stop. That being said, the process was far from over. I was using adderall as an appetite suppressant to control the way my body appeared. I was still terrified of food, I did not trust myself, and was confronted by the same deep part of me that needed to be reinvented. The part of me that would go to extreme measures not to be left. Anything but being left.

I did a storytelling event here in April of last year, and the theme of the month was “I QUIT.” I took that opportunity to speak about how I quit adderall. I was proud of myself, because I thought I did, for a couple months. A few weeks after that event, I was back again. Another lapse, another setback. And I knew I couldn’t publish that story until I got a handle on it.

With time, I began to realize that these protective behaviors that felt so important to maintain, were just like being on a hamster wheel, expending a ton of energy but going nowhere. These behaviors were causing the chaos, not defending me from it. And even with that knowledge, the struggle remained. It didn’t matter how aware I was, the knowledge just wasn’t integrated enough.

This became even more apparent in my last relationship. I’ve said this before, and I’ll say it again, there is nothing like a romantic relationship to make it painfully clear what you need to change. Aspects of yourself that you kinda know are there — are made blatantly evident. I noticed when I walked down the street with my ex, if there was a beautiful woman walking towards us, or standing on the street corner, I noticed my heart would start to race, I’d get nervous, and feel deeply threatened. I thought I could be tossed aside at any moment. The threat of being disposable is the deepest most hidden part of me. And the relationship I so desperately did not want to end, ended. The person I did not want to leave me, left.

I stand here tonight, alone. There’s no one else but me, and there’s no one coming to save me, but me. I am descending, I am at rock bottom, and this process is stripping away all the layers of my old self that no longer serve me. I am terrified, it is messy, but it’s necessary. I fight the urge to go back to what is familiar, because the unknown is terrifying. But for now, I’ll continue to confront my darkness. That darkness is my past, the young me that truly felt deprived, unimportant, and scared. Who then grew up to believe that you can be more attractive, and secure love by being “more attractive”. It’s profoundly ridiculous, but that’s why it needs to be confronted, because these unchecked beliefs can control your life, and your relationships.

In my process of “going all the way,” I’m reclaiming a strong part of me, a part that knows that the most powerful force in the universe is a woman who loves herself. This part has been muffled by fear, and pain, but she’s definitely in there. She shows up at all these events, and she’s ready to take the drivers seat, and no part of me is content with her being in the back. Get up here!

I’m showing myself love by letting myself eat. Letting myself eat without the fear that things will spiral out of control. And they haven’t, and God knows it took me so long to arrive at this place. Our relationship with food is a measure of how much we love ourselves. So what I’m doing with my food is a reflection of that.

It’s easy to stand in front of you guys and speak to this process, because there’s glory in it, but I still have to go home and face an empty bed, and a heart that is hurting. This process of reinvention is terrifying, that’s why I originally rated it two-stars. There are many, many nights where I cry myself to sleep, but it was also Nietzsche who said that “one must have chaos in oneself to give birth to a dancing star.”

I’m loving myself by feeling the pain, pushing through it, and not letting it stop me. I constantly, constantly remind myself that spiritually, my greatest growth will come from the pain of facing rejection and loneliness, and choosing to believe in myself, my worth, my power, and the goodness within me. I trust that that should be enough.

There’s just no choice, I have to go all the way. What would be the point of entering into a dark and ominous forest of change, if not for some reward at the end? And I do believe there is a reward, a prize, if we decide to reinvent ourselves. Maybe it’s an emotionally available partner, or maybe it’s the greater manifestation of my creative expression, or MAYBE it’s feelin’ a role model, like Ice Cube, who went from gangster to street conscious ICON. (I haven’t seen any of his movies).

You know, I used to wait until the night before to write my stories, until the fire-pressure cooker could no longer be suppressed. I would often finish the day off, frantically, and walk off stage feeling OK, but knowing in my heart that I didn’t give it my all. I am happy to report it is January 5th, and I am working on this story, quite the reinvention. Amongst all other things, it’s creativity that keeps me going. It is mine, it can never be taken from me, and I hope that this process of coming into wholeness will help me to share in far greater ways, and that my efforts will be reflected in these stories.