Because it’s time.

Everything starts closed, still, waiting.

A chrysalis hanging from a branch.

From the outside, it looks like nothing.

A small thing that doesn’t move, doesn’t speak, doesn’t ask.

But inside, something is changing.

There’s no rush.

No show.

Just time. Warmth. Silence.

A kind of patience that doesn’t need to know where it’s going.

The butterfly doesn’t know it will become a butterfly.

And yet, it gets ready anyway.

Then one day, with no announcement, the shell breaks.

Slowly.

Quietly.

And what comes out is something new.

Fragile.

Beautiful.

Never seen before.

The butterfly doesn’t look back.

It doesn’t say thank you. It doesn’t say goodbye.

It doesn’t need to explain.

It simply flies away.

Because it’s time.

The chrysalis is not a mistake.

It’s necessary.

Without that form, there would be no flight.

Every fiber, every wait, every stillness had a purpose.

But you can’t live like a butterfly while clinging to the cocoon.

You can’t fly while carrying what once protected you.

There are shapes that held us, nurtured us, kept us safe.

Forms that helped us become.

But they can’t come with us.

Because their task is done.

Because it’s time.

The problem isn’t what ends.

The problem is when we insist on staying inside what used to be.

There are people, roles, habits, certainties

that helped us.

They kept us warm when the world felt cold.

They gave us a name, a place, a sense.

But now they’re tight.

They leave no space.

And staying in them hurts, even if we don’t want to admit it.

Sometimes we stay out of fear. Out of gratitude.

Because “after everything we’ve been through.”

As if the past were an eternal justification.

But even the chrysalis, eventually, breaks.

Because it’s time.

It’s not a choice.

It’s not courage. It’s not selfishness.

It’s life.

Transformation doesn’t ask for permission.

It comes.

Like dawn. Like spring.

Like everything we can’t control.

So maybe the question is no longer whether to stay or go.

Whether it’s too soon. Whether it’ll hurt someone.

Maybe we just need to listen to that quiet voice that says:

Now is the time to open. And go elsewhere. With new wings.

Now you are. You are no longer who you were.

Because it’s time.