CURATORS NOTE
There’s a kind of honesty that only arrives after something breaks.
The essays and reflections in this segment carry that honesty — not loud, not desperate, but quiet, measured, and real. They come from people who have sat with themselves long enough to name what changed, how it hurt, and what it took to keep going.
Metamorphosis, here, is not always beautiful.
It’s uncomfortable. Muddled. Tender.
It’s the in-between space where nothing is quite what it was — and yet you’re still expected to show up.
To live.
To speak.
To make meaning of a shifting self.
These stories don’t promise neat resolutions. Instead, they offer insight into what it means to feel the ground shifting beneath you and still find a way to name the moment. To say: Yes, I was there. I felt that. I’m different now.
In reading them, I hope you find yourself seen — not in someone else’s outcome, but in their becoming.
Welcome to the soft, sharp truths of metamorphosis.
Let them sit with you.
— Magdalene Okoro
Curator, Non-fiction.