Rip Off Its Petals

I am not really here. I'm an illusion. I'm so perfectly put together you can look right past me. Pleasing production if not symmetry, I'm easy to look past and I like it that way. I don't particularly like being seen for my surface - what a shock; I wonder why. I like being seen in that way where we pry fingers into the ribcage and rip it open to show people who I think might get it what lives inside. Like that moment when Beetlejuice's face opens up and snakes come out. 

Not that I'm all snakes, but I suppose I like the shock value. The poisoned peony. I've known too many 'men' - and again I use that in quotes who've been drawn to me for their perverse desire to see something delicate and voluptuous and rip off its petals one by one because they can. Because they like the way they can enact violence and there won't be any blood and there won't be screaming. We'll just wilt inside ourselves and they can go look for a fresh flower. Because there's always a fresh flower. But what about the rebloom? What about regrowing your own petals inside your stomach before you have the strength of a stem to connect them and hold them up? All the petals you work so hard to grow in the incubator of your stomach, like a pile of pillows or pillowcases or cashmere blankets. You want them to cover you, but no one else gets to come in. Not anymore. You've learned your lesson. I am not really here is just something I tell you now. 

I don't believe it. I know it's not true.

But you don't know that.

🎧 Bring This Prompt into Your Own Body

The essay you just read began as a prompt inside the Body Writers Circle. We take our prompts from song lyrics and write whatever our bodies want to say. If your own body feels full or unsafe to exist in today, I invite you to try this gentle Body Writing™ practice:

Set the Mood: 

Get cozy, plug in headphones and sink into this week's featured song on Spotify.

Listen:

Close your eyes. Don't worry about the lyrics or what they mean intellectually. Just notice how the rhythm, melody and vibe affect your body. What do you feel opening up and coming forward?

Write:

Open your journal and write the opening lyric (I am not really here; I'm an illusion) at the top of your page. Don't try to match my writing; just notice: what does it bring up for you? What does it make your body want to say? Write for three pages – without editing, censoring yourself or trying to make your writing "good."

Why Journaling Alone Is Only the First Step

While practicing this alone can bring beautiful moments of connection and relief, trying to navigate your deepest, most intense stories alone is a big ask for a sensitive nervous system. When you're the only one holding the pen and the space, your inner critic takes charge easily, causing you to freeze up or pull back before finding the deeper medicine.

True somatic resolution requires co-regulation.

Which is why doing this work inside an ultra-intimate, zero-critique group of just 5 to 6 women changes everything. In the Body Writers Circle, you don't carry emotional weight by yourself. The shared presence of our tiny, trusted community holds space for you – allowing you to feel safe venturing into the depths your body needs without freezing or flooding.

If you feel a quiet, resonant yes to this, you belong with us. 

A new, founding member circle is opening soon. (June 2026)

Add your name to the waitlist here, for first access to a space. 💗