Becoming Her

My most recent tattoo is an alchemy symbol, a quiet reminder of what I’ve learned to do with pain. Far be it from me to ever care what anyone thinks about my tattoos, but this one is different. Alchemy isn’t just an ancient practice of transforming metals; it’s the sacred art of transforming the self.

Through recovery, heartbreak, loss, and all the unpredictable turns of life, I’ve learned how to alchemize my emotions, to turn pain into peace, chaos into clarity, and discomfort into growth.

We live in a world addicted to instant gratification. Packages arrive overnight. Food is delivered in minutes. Answers come with a swipe or a tap. But emotional healing doesn’t work like that. You can’t rush your way to peace. You have to sit with what hurts long enough to understand it.

I often picture it like this:
When an emotion rises; anger, sadness, grief, insecurity.. I imagine myself in an empty room with two chairs. I pull one up for me and one for the emotion. Then I say, “Alright. Let’s sit. We might be here a while.”

It’s uncomfortable at first.
Emotions don’t like to be ignored, but they don’t like being rushed out the door, either.
They want to be seen, heard, and understood.

So, I sit. I ask what it came to teach me.
And when the lesson is clear, when I’ve cried, breathed, or journaled through it, I gently push the chair back under the table. The emotion is excused. My shoulders drop. My breath steadies. There’s a peace that wasn’t there before.

That’s emotional alchemy, turning raw, heavy energy into wisdom and calm. It’s not about avoiding or controlling what you feel; it’s about allowing it to move through you and change form.

And that takes courage.
Courage to stay when you want to run.
Courage to feel when it’s easier to numb.
Courage to trust that sitting with your emotions doesn’t destroy you, it refines you.

The art of alchemy is beautiful because it reminds us:
Nothing is wasted.
Not your pain. Not your anger. Not even your tears.
Everything can be transformed, if you’re brave enough to sit long enough to listen.