Eshal

👉 Don’t scroll. Go to my bio, choose your link, and discover the message waiting for you.

— Beau Taplin

The Death of the Current Me Two versions of you cannot inhabit the same space. To catch the person you are aiming for, you must be willing to let the person you are today completely dissolve. Growth is not just adding new pieces; it is a brutal, necessary process of subtraction. It requires you to look at your current habits, your old coping mechanisms, and your familiar comforts, and admit that they cannot travel where you are going. This realization brings a heavy, quiet grief. You are mourning a version of yourself that protected you, kept you safe, and got you this far. But holding onto who you were out of loyalty to your past is a slow compromise of your future. The transition is lonely and disorienting. You will feel stripped bare, caught in the empty space between the old cage and the new horizon. But you must endure the discomfort of being undone. Do not pull back into the old skin just because the new one feels unfamiliar. Trust the collapse. Let the current version fade so the next one can finally breathe. You cannot step into your highest potential while desperately holding onto the parts of you that have already expired. Let go.🖤

— Faith Alexandria, Undeserving

Sylvia Plath, "Three Women"

Secrets of the Soul is a living series of unspoken truths—fragmented reflections drawn from real experience, inner dialogue, and conscious self-examination. Each season captures a different chapter of becoming: the realizations we arrive at quietly, the patterns we finally name, the thoughts we’re often afraid to say out loud. This series exists not for spectacle, but for recognition—for those who have felt deeply, questioned themselves honestly, and needed language for what lived beneath the surface. These are not quotes for consumption, but truths for release—because what we speak with clarity, we no longer repeat unconsciously.

👉 Don’t scroll. Go to my bio, choose your link, and discover the message waiting for you.

— Unknown

— Francis Bacon

Franz Kafka, from a letter to Felice Bauer written in 1913, featured in Letters To Felice

Yes. Good. Go get a pen. This is where it begins.

Maggie Smith