Becoming a 🦋

After 7 months of chaotic transformation, nonstop survival, and full-time creativity, I can say this: I got a job. Not just a job in tech, but a promotion from my former role.

I haven’t said this out loud, but I was sure I’d feel like I sold out. I thought I’d have to force myself to care, pretend nothing had changed, and quietly save money so I could invest in my ideas and quit tech forever.

Life isn’t that simple. It keeps you engaged better than a TikTok algorithm. I had a clear plan: get in, put your head down, collect paychecks, don’t ruffle feathers, invest in your creative company, save 100K, and never come back.

But after 2 weeks, it weirdly feels normal. I know all the steps, like a dance I never stopped doing. It was easy to settle back into the matrix: a cushy corporate job—hard but cushy—lots of meetings, rules, and politics, but still cushy. Maybe I want the green pill. Maybe I find comfort in the matrix.

I know that now because during my artistic break—especially the last few months—it was internal chaos every day. When no one would hire me and interviews kept going badly, I gave up and hustled.

Let me tell you, I was a terrible babysitter. I once watched a baby who cried for hours after her mom left. Nothing helped. No explanation. It was exhausting, loud, and deeply humbling.

That time outside the matrix wasn’t freedom. It was survival. When your survival mind is on, everything feels urgent. If I didn’t move, I’d sink. I created constantly because I had to, not because I had clarity. What I thought was limitless freedom was also burnout with no direction.

Coming back into the matrix softened something in me. I noticed I wasn’t rushing to sew, paint, record, edit, or post. Not because I lost interest, but because I finally felt safe enough to slow down.

I went back to what I know, and for the first time, I feel at peace about it. I tried to live fully outside the matrix, and it wasn’t for me. That doesn’t mean I failed—it means I learned where I actually belong.

I know now I’ll always live in both worlds. One foot in the matrix, where there’s structure and stability. One foot outside, where the sky is still the limit. And for the first time, that balance feels enough.