Fear. Agency. Transformation.

I almost didn’t write a post today. I’ve grown quite fond of sitting down each week to pen something, but it is much easier when it flows straight out of me and onto paper. I have had the privilege of experiencing weeks of surety in my writing, of first drafts being close to their final, of feeling quite confident in the words I have to say. Today, the words are dammed up inside and I can feel the avoidant creature in me wanting to throw the whole thought of writing them down out the door.

Transformation is a great challenge. Transformation is a terrifying thing. I do not think the caterpillar knows it will become a butterfly before it spins its chrysalis. Maybe it hopes, as we all do. Imagine, however, the fear of burying yourself, shutting out the world, only to know that the fight through will require great strength and that you come out on the other side a different person.

As a trans woman, it is obvious that I have chosen many transformations in my life. I have been terrified more times than I can count. Maybe I have stayed the course by sheer stubbornness. Some might call it bravery, tho it’s a word I’ve never identified with. I do not feel brave when I must transform again. Mostly, I consider myself lucky that I haven’t been stuck in my old patterns of behavior so long that I am lost forever. I am filled with gratitude that I haven’t succumbed to the loud voices that urge me to give up entirely.

Today, as I write, I am thinking about dear friends who are on their own path of transformation. Loved ones who I know are afraid. Humans who I cherish that I am watching weigh the cost of moving forward against the comfort of giving up. A transformation that I am having to accept in this time is that I cannot do the work for them. As many others have in my life, I can stand by and cheer them on, but the work of transformation is theirs alone. We can hold hands, cry together, and sit in the silence of doubt and fear. I can bring food and friendship and a warm blanket, but the work remains theirs.

Cutting a creature from its chrysalis too soon is damaging. The metaphor does break down eventually when applied to our growth as human beings, but I do find myself so tempted to insert myself into others’ lives. It seems so simple to say, “Don’t be afraid! Don’t you see where you are heading? I can see it so clearly.” It feels easy to take on the burden ourselves because we can imagine how a person might grow. If we are to do that, however, we assume not just responsibility but also omniscience. 

We cannot actually say how a person might transform, tho we may hope for one specific result or another. Projecting our own hopes and dreams onto them is, at best, enabling them to not do the important work of change. At worst, it can be a removal of their agency altogether. We may seek to assuage fears and to help, but we can harm in our insistence that the change occurs on our timeline or in the direction we prefer. Human beings deserve the right to experience life as they will, whether or not we think we know what is best. It is scary to watch a loved one struggle and strain and hurt as they grow. Sometimes, however, the best way to love them is to say, “I care for you. Please let me know if you’d like help. Otherwise, I’ll be here the whole time, cheering you on.”