My Cocoon Arc
Rebuilding Myself, One Life Experiment at a Time
The Caterpillar That Didn’t Make It.
When I was in kindergarten, there was a story—a memory, really—that shaped more of me than I ever realized. It wasn’t scary, but it lingered like a faint shadow, coloring how I saw myself and the world.
We were each given a caterpillar. Our job? To nurture, observe, and witness their magical transformation into butterflies. For five-year-olds, this was no small responsibility.
I LOVEEED butterflies.
To me, they were mesmerizing—delicate yet free, ordinary yet extraordinary. I marveled at their cocooning process, how something so still could hold such profound change. I tended to my caterpillar with excitement, dreaming of the moment it would flutter its new wings.
When the day came to check on the cocoons, the classroom buzzed with anticipation. The teachers had us rush to our cages, squealing kids all around me as their butterflies flapped and fluttered.
I ran to mine, heart pounding with joy, ready to see my miracle.
But there was nothing.
My caterpillar’s cocoon sat dry and brittle, lifeless.
It hadn’t made it :(
The other kids cheered as they carried their cages outside to release their butterflies, casting wishes into the sky. I stood there, holding my empty cage, trying to hide the tears welling up.
The teasing didn’t help. “You’re bad luck,” they said. “Your wishes will never come true.”
And I believed them.
That moment planted a deep seed of self-doubt. I felt like everything I touched would fail, that no matter how much I cared, I’d never succeed.
Do You Remember, The 21st night of September?
I hadn’t thought about that story in years.
But as I sat down to reflect on September, it came rushing back like a wave, a memory knocking on a door I thought was closed.
This past summer felt expansive, full of intellectual and creative breakthroughs. Yet beneath the surface, I was burning out—not just physically or mentally, but emotionally. My work, which involves helping others rebuild their inner worlds and reshape their stories, had drained me.
I gave so much of myself to others—clients, projects, ideas—but left nothing in the tank…for me.
By August, I hit a major wall (cue crash out szn)
I was doing everything “right”: writing daily, showing up for clients, chasing ideas. But nothing felt like it was working. Every spark of inspiration led to a dead end.
I kept asking myself, What is my thing? What is wrong with me? What am I missing?
Then, I experienced one of the most profound bursts of inspiration I’d ever felt. A client project so deeply aligned with my heart, something I believed could change the world—because it had already changed mine. I poured everything into it.
But when the pitch fell through, it crushed me. Not just an ego bruise, but a deep cut into my spirit.
It wasn’t just a rejection; it felt like confirmation of that kindergarten fear: This is your fault. You’ll never get it right.
Life Experiments & Second Chances
That failure, however, sparked something unexpected. It pushed me to stop running on autopilot and start asking hard questions.
In September, I made a choice: to step back from clients and projects, even if it meant risking financial stability.
I needed to figure out me.
So, I began a series of life experiments—a personal cocooning process, if you will.
I tested systems, tracked patterns, and documented everything. Every insight, every question, every realization became a note in my internal lab journal. It felt like I was both the experiment and the scientist, studying myself from the inside so I could understand who I was becoming.
What excited me?
What drained me?
Where was I holding myself back?
What habits or beliefs needed to change?
Every post, every creative piece I shared came from this place of introspection.
It was like leaving breadcrumbs for my future self, notes for when I emerged from the cocoon.
And in doing so, I realized I’d been given a second chance. My kindergarten experiment wasn’t over.
I was the caterpillar this time, and my cocoon—messy, dark, and uncomfortable as it was—held something extraordinary.
Living Your Purpose, One Day at a Time
Through this process, I learned something profound: living your purpose isn’t about “finding” it. It’s about living it, every day. It’s not a destination or a perfect mold; it’s a question you answer with each choice, each moment of alignment.
For so long, I’d been tethering myself to safety nets I didn’t trust, molding myself into shapes I thought others would accept. But in September, I cut the rope. I let go of the safety nets and dove into the unknown, not knowing where I’d land.
The process was messy. (omg the rollercoaster of emotions, I wasn’t expecting that all…..but alas)
At times, it felt like pushing through a crowded room, bumping into old fears, past heartbreaks, and self-doubt. But with each step, I got stronger, faster, more confident.
I started experiencing emotions I hadn’t felt in years—childlike wonder, awe, and excitement for life. I forgave parts of myself I’d buried long ago.
Creativity became my companion, my healer, helping me unearth the version of me who had been waiting to emerge.
From Caterpillar to Butterfly
Looking back, that kindergarten memory feels less like a failure and more like a foreshadowing. Back then, I thought I’d failed my caterpillar. I never got to see it transform, never got to make a wish.
But now I realize: I was the caterpillar :)
September was my cocoon—a season of transformation, growth, and unbecoming. It was about shedding old layers, peeling back shields I’d built to protect myself, and trusting that the process would lead me somewhere beautiful.
Today, I’m stepping out—not as someone who has it all figured out, but as someone who believes in the beauty of becoming.
Your Turn
To anyone reading this: I hope this story gives you the courage to start your own metamorphosis.
To experiment, to reflect, to live your questions.
You are worthy of transformation.
You are worthy of becoming your own butterfly—beautiful, bold, and free.
🦋
So, here’s to second chances and new beginnings.
To believing in ourselves, even when it feels like nothing is working.
And to releasing our butterflies into the world, carrying our wishes, and knowing they’re already coming true.
‘til next time,
Minhaj
2MannyBop of the Day
Wanted to share the song that got me through that time and mainly September — felt fitting.