I’m glad I never got a purple butterfly tattoo on the small of my back. No offense to anyone else out there, but in my active addiction days, the term “tramp stamp” had not yet become common vernacular. If you have no idea what I am talking about, you are fortunate.
There were a couple of tattoos I toyed with over the years, looking up pictures and drawing elementary school sketches on my arms and thighs and ankles and back.
Nabokov’s butterfly (an airy bluish-purple), during my obsession with Russian literature (don’t ask), or the Latin phrase “Per aspera ad astra” (through hardship to the stars) until I found out it was both a motto of Kansas and on the cardboard container of Pall Mall cigarettes. Neither stuck permanently (thankfully), but my fascination with butterflies remains.
Recovery can move us from a slow crawl to an airy flutter.
Recovery, in the spiritual sense, can be a complete change. A metamorphosis.
Photo by Alfred Schrock on Unsplash
Did you know the concept of metamorphosis is way more complicated than we all learned about in fourth grade with the chart with clip art graphics of the egg, larva, pupa, and butterfly (long before YouTube, people)?
The origin of the word itself comes from Greek roots: meta meaning change and morphe meaning form. Not until recently did I learn that there is no consensus among scientists and entomologists (bug-study people) for defining types of insect metamorphosis. There has been division internationally whether many of the species that do go through a process of metamorphosis should be given different names for different stages.1 Who knew?
I’ve encountered something similar in my work with women with co-occurring addiction and trauma, along with having dealt with this myself.
For many of us who seek addiction treatment and recovery, the topic of trauma is something that is not discussed for a long time—if ever—by mental health professionals in their approach to addiction. It took me a little over fifteen years of seeing innumerable therapists, counselors, psychiatrists, and addiction treatment specialists before (finally!) someone diagnosed me with post-traumatic stress disorder.
It might be strange to hear this (unless you might need to hear it too), but as soon as those words were uttered in that therapist’s office, a piece of me could finally relax. Not only did I have reasons for how I’d struggled so long, but I finally had hope that I could heal.
My path had direction.
The sad reality is that many folks do not make the connection to trauma and therefore do not find direction.
Maybe you are waiting too. Maybe you are on your own path to metamorphosis, yet no one is stepping in as you are moving from one stage of healing to the next to say, “Hey, you over there, larva or whatever, did you know that adding [fill in the blank] to your treatment will increase your sense of safety and agency and help to promote positive coping strategies?” Or perhaps a little less jargony: “Hey, you, have you experienced trauma and are not dealing with it? Do you need help learning how to address those symptoms?”
Many of us are waiting.
You are not alone.
We all need guides along the way to help point out our blind spots regarding healing.
We need someone like an entomologist for humans (a therapist, sponsor, mentor, friend) to guide us in the metamorphosis.
Your own presenting symptoms may not be post-traumatic stress, but if you have experienced trauma of any kind, you still may need to address how you are coping. It doesn’t matter how long ago that thing (or those things) happened to you. Trauma symptoms can be debilitating and impact more than just our lives today.
This is partly why when my mom sent me a dusty manuscript of her own wandering through trauma symptoms, I told her “I think we can do something with this.”
In that moment I knew that something beautiful could be born from the pain.
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Will you join me on this journey?
Pre-orders for my book YOU ARE NOT YOUR TRAUMA: UPROOT UNHEALTHY PATTERNS, HEAL THE FAMILY TREE are available now (even though I’m not putting this on blast quite yet). You are my people and are hearing it first.
I’m also opening up space for a limited time to join my launch club. Send me a message if you’d like to learn more.
[I’m so in love with this book cover! Shout out to my publisher David Morris at
for his expertise and amazing team]Texas Master Gardener, “Insect Metamorphosis,” Galveston County Master Gardeners: Texas A&M AgriLife Extension Service, accessed March 29, 2024.
Thank you for sharing this, Caroline. I really related to it. When caterpillars transform into butterflies, there's a period of time when they are just goo. They have no structure or form, and exist only as mushy uncertainty. I think about that a lot, especially when I think about recovery from trauma. I'm looking forward to your book, and to learning more about your launch plans. Will email you on that!
Bang on Caroline! Let me know about your launch.