The Caterpillar Before the Chrysalis
I went for a walk this afternoon.
I’m menstruating, which means my pace slows down to something much gentler than the usual “get your steps in” walk.
As I wandered past the fresh spring flowers, I noticed a dozen little bee bottoms sticking up out of white blossoms.
A beetle froze mid-step, trying to pretend it didn’t exist. And then, rounding a bend, I almost walked straight into what I thought was a leaf dangling from a thread.
I stepped back and waited for it to stop swinging.
Something in me felt curious, the way I always do around small living things.
At first I thought it was a spider hiding inside a rolled leaf.
But as I crouched down and watched, the leaf began to twist in a way that felt… intentional.
That’s when I realised:
It wasn’t a leaf at all, it was a woven chrysalis.
And sure enough the little caterpillar inside poked its tiny head out.
Everything in me wanted to “help” this vulnerable creature.
There was a stick at my feet and I thought, Should I move it to a tree? What if it falls? What if someone steps on it?
But instinct told me not to intervene, simply to watch.
So I did.
I sat there and watched this tiny creature lower itself and its soon-to-be home inch by inch toward the ground, swaying wildly whenever the wind came, and then continuing its abseil descent when the air grew still.
It took a long time.
Long enough that I felt myself soften. Long enough to understand something deeper.
When it finally reached the ground, the caterpillar crawled out with its first few legs, lifted the chrysalis onto its back like a little hermit crab with a new shell, and began looking for a tree that could hold it.
The first tree was too thin, it bent under the weight.
So it tried another.
And another.
All the while dragging this heavy, awkward, essential home with it.
I was utterly transfixed watching this tiny being attempt to create the conditions for its own transformation.
And it hit me:
We hear so much about the caterpillar fattening up and then magically entering a chrysalis to transform…
but no one talks about the effort it takes to build the chrysalis in the first place.
The challenge.
The groundwork.
The conditions that must be in place before transformation is even possible.
And suddenly, it made perfect sense.
Humans are the same.
Before any of my big awakenings, before the desert in Africa where my whole inner world melted, I’d unknowingly been preparing my ground:
I had worked a stable job that gave me financial safety.
I’d been doing weekly yoga, getting introduced to spirituality and embodiment.
I’d done small amounts of therapy and learned what it felt like to speak honestly about my feelings.
I kept a journal and wrote constantly, processing my inner world before I even knew that’s what I was doing.
I had been building, slowly, clumsily, imperfectly, the conditions for transformation.
In the self-development world, we’re often told:
“Change your life in 3 days!”
“Transform in my 6-week course!”
And yes, profound, miraculous shifts absolutely can happen quickly.
But the people who actually stay transformed…
the ones who emerge as full butterflies and not half-baked versions of themselves…
are the ones who create a long-term container around their transformation.
This is what I’ve seen again and again with my clients these past 8 years.
Retreats are powerful. Short courses can be life-changing.
But the deepest shifts come from the women who do the work for months, for years, continuing to show up for their evolving self.
This year, when I created Self Love Legacy, a 6-month group mentorship, I got to see this truth in real time.
The changes weren’t just because of my teachings or the space I was holding.
They happened because the students also held one another.
Reflected one another.
Supported one another.
Created the community chrysalis needed for metamorphosis.
And so, watching that little caterpillar today, I realised:
This is why I am changing the way I work.
Self Love Legacy is expanding from 6 months to 10 months, a full initiation, a deepening, a certification in self-love (not to teach it - but to live it).
My work now is about helping femme babes create the conditions, the safety, the structure, the community, the support, that allow them to enter their own chrysalis.
So they can come out as their own exquisite version of a butterfly.
It isn’t easy.
There are brambles, obstacles, collapsing branches.
But that’s part of the journey.
That’s life.
And like the caterpillar, the transformation doesn’t start in the chrysalis.
It starts long before, with the courageous decision to prepare the ground.
