I Am Not a Phase, I Am a Rebirth

For years, I was told I was “just going through a phase.”

When I shifted my beliefs, changed my lifestyle, cut my hair, set boundaries, walked away from certain people—I was met with eye rolls, concern, and the ever-dismissive, “You’ll come back around. This is just a phase.”

As if rediscovering myself was a detour.

As if evolving was a mistake I’d regret.

As if growing into my truth was temporary—and the “real” me would eventually return, quiet and compliant.

But I am not a phase.

I am a rebirth.

When Changing Is Treated Like a Red Flag

People are often uncomfortable with change—especially when it happens to someone they thought they knew. And especially when it challenges the version of you they were comfortable with.

When I began shedding parts of my identity that were rooted in survival and societal approval, the backlash wasn’t always loud—but it was there. Subtle doubts. Backhanded comments. Friends who faded. Family who questioned.

I was no longer the person who said yes to everything.

No longer the one who stayed silent to keep the peace.

No longer the one who dimmed her light so others could shine.

And that made people uncomfortable.

They called it a phase.

But what they couldn’t see was that I wasn’t losing myself—I was finding myself for the first time.

Growth Is Not a Crisis

When women or sensitive people, especially, begin to speak up, reclaim their power, change direction, or say “no” for the first time—we’re often told we’re “acting out,” “unstable,” or “confused.”

But what if it’s not a breakdown?

What if it’s a breakthrough?

What looks like inconsistency from the outside is often deep alignment from within.

What looks like rebellion is often liberation.

What looks like chaos is often clarity in disguise.

I didn’t change because I was lost. I changed because I was tired of pretending. And I wasn’t “trying on” different selves—I was unearthing the one I had buried beneath years of expectations.

The Fire Wasn’t Meant to Destroy Me—It Was Meant to Burn Off the Falsehood

Rebirth doesn’t always look gentle. Sometimes it looks like endings. Like walking away. Like crying in the shower. Like deleting everything and starting over. Like nights of silence. Like unbecoming everything you thought you had to be.

But on the other side?

It looks like peace.

Peace that doesn’t require perfection.

Peace that comes from knowing that your life finally feels like yours.

This process wasn’t a mood swing or a whim. It was sacred. It was necessary. And it was powerful.

Being Misunderstood Is the Cost of Becoming

Not everyone will understand your growth. That’s okay. Not everyone is meant to walk with you into every version of yourself.

Some people loved the version of me who was always available, always agreeable, always small. That doesn’t make them bad—it just means they were aligned with who I used to be.

But if staying the same is the only way to keep someone’s love, that love was never meant for your true self anyway.

I’ve learned to let the misunderstandings stand. I don’t need to explain my rebirth to those who only want to remember my ashes.

Phases Fade. Rebirths Reshape.

There’s a difference between experimenting with who you are and finally returning to yourself.

A phase feels like putting on a costume. A rebirth feels like taking one off.

I’m no longer trying to impress, belong, or earn worth. I am no longer addicted to being perceived a certain way. My joy is quieter now, but deeper. My presence is softer, but stronger. And my love—especially for myself—is not a performance. It’s a homecoming.

To Anyone Who’s Being Told, “It’s Just a Phase”

If you’re walking through transformation right now, and others are questioning it—keep going.

You are not broken. You are not unstable.

You are simply no longer available for a life that no longer fits.

Let them talk. Let them label you. Let them wait for the old you to return.

You’re not here to make sense to people who only recognize your past. You’re here to become who you’ve always been, beneath the noise.

Final Thoughts: Let Them Call It a Phase—You’ll Call It Freedom

Rebirth doesn’t need permission. It doesn’t wait for validation.

It just arrives—quietly, powerfully, unshakably.

So no—I’m not going through a phase. I’m going through a reckoning. A remembering. A reclamation.

I am not who I used to be.

I am not who they want me to be.

I am not a phase.

I am a rebirth.

And I am not turning back.