Ecdysis.

A snake sheds its skin, not in one swift, cinematic motion, but instead in a slow, arduous and isolating process. 

Before the transformation, it withdraws. It eats less and becomes sluggish. A bluish hue clouds its eyes, impairing its vision, leaving it defensive and vulnerable. It must navigate blindly through an environment once familiar, rubbing its body against rough surfaces to loosen the old skin it has outgrown. 

When the skin finally sloughs away, the result is breathtaking. The snake emerges with brilliant, iridescent scales, having successfully shed parasites, scars, and the dullness of its former self.

For me, 2025 was the year of my ecdysis—a year of forced introspection to release what no longer served me.

Illusion of Invincibility

For as long as I can remember, I defined my worth through my independence. My strength and self-sufficiency were armor I wore with immense pride. I started working the day I turned eighteen; I bought my own car; I made sure I only ever had to rely on myself. 

This approach to life influenced my hobbies as well, bringing a specific thrill to my fitness goals. Any time I ran further, punched harder, or lifted heavier left me feeling closer to the super woman I’d dreamt of becoming. My strength was a gift that meant I would never have to ask for help. I would be my own hero. I didn’t need anyone else, and I was glad. 

But life always has other plans, doesn’t it?

When my health declined, my strength was stripped away. I felt like I lost everything, down to my identity. I struggled to ask for help because I didn’t want to need it. For so many years, I had unknowingly built walls to guard against the very things that make us human: vulnerability and community. Suddenly the invincible woman I worked so hard to become disappeared, replaced by a girl who was frightened and frail, unsure of how to accept anything but shame. 

The Resistance

Sluggish and pale, I spent many hours in bed unsure of what each day would bring. I tried to fight the process at first. I denied the reality before me, pushing through the limitations of my body as if I could charge through the problem with pure rage and determination.

But, in fact, the more I fought, the weaker I became. I eventually needed help to do the simplest of tasks like toileting and brushing my teeth. The more I resisted, the more I suffered. This persisted until I finally realized I needed to embrace the very antithesis of who I thought I should be. 

When I finally surrendered to humility, something amazing happened: I found myself unfolding in grace. 

Anger and pride had kept me trapped, suspended in time but grace set me free. Once I allowed myself to be cared for, I began to absorb the rest of life’s brilliant colors with new eyes. I paused to feel the warmth of golden rays shining through my bedside window; I held on just a little longer when my dog leaned in for a hug; I made a note to watch the twinkling stars in the night sky above, noticing how their brilliant sparks waving down from lightyears away are a beautiful reminder that no one endures anything alone.

Where hurt once hindered healing, softness spiraled in. It gave tender hugs to wounds from apologies never given, memories echoing a painful past, and shackles of past mistakes. It brought peace, a profound gratitude for things in life while they’re there, and an appreciation for when they’re gone without being consumed by their absence; this peace has allowed me to see the immense beauty in my life, for which I’m forever grateful.

2026: Intentions

I feel like I aged five years in 2025. It was a challenging year, but very much needed. Going into 2026, I’m not looking for resolutions. Resolutions feel demanding on a body that has already been through quite a lot. 

So instead, for 2026, I am setting an intention.

My intention is to return to my inner child. She is creative, free-spirited, and lighthearted. She doesn’t carry the weight of “doing it all alone.” She knows that she has a God who looks out for her and that goodness always follows the struggle. 

I have spent my necessary time in the dark. I have rubbed against the rough surfaces of life to loosen the layers that no longer serve me. Now, I’m stepping out–resilient, radiant, and ready to simply be. 

---

What was your 2025 like? Hopefully, it wasn’t as intense as mine, but if it was, I hope this next year treats us more gently. Do you have any specific goals or intentions for 2026? I’d love to hear them in the comments 🙂

As always, thanks for reading 🩷