Listening to the Monster Within

These past months, since December 1st, have been both extremely uncomfortable and rewarding. A lot has happened in my 36 years. Saying I’m exhausted is an understatement, but even though I feel like I’ve had 10 billion deaths and rebirths, it makes me happy to see how my way of coping has changed. I’m not saying I’m like the dog in the meme, pretending everything is fine—because it isn’t, and it wasn’t for a long time—but I’m proud to say that my tolerance for discomfort has increased. I accept the uncertainty of life, even though part of me is scared as fuck.

Let’s start from the beginning, shall we?

We all have problems and have suffered, yet we live in a society that pushes us to suppress our feelings, hide our struggles, and present an "everything is fine" front. This creates many issues, but one of the most alarming is how it numbs us to the acceptance of pain. We start seeing it as this big monster that we need to lock away in the closet of our minds—until it grows louder and louder, becoming an overwhelming presence. It makes us avoid or choose paths that don’t align with who we truly are when, in reality, if we were brave enough to listen, pain could guide us. I believe that’s how industries profit from us—feeding off our lack of inner security and fear of facing our shadows. Feel inadequate? Buy this. Feel unworthy? Try this new productivity hack. Honestly, I don’t think the economy trades money; it trades the feeling of worthiness. The less worthy someone feels, the more profit they generate—for someone else who probably also doesn’t feel worthy but chooses to exploit and project their pain onto others.

This week, I felt a block in my throat and my stomach. Maybe it’s because I quit my corporate job and am currently in between things, dealing with my dog’s final stages of life, my parents offloading their problems onto me (I’ve been a mother since I was five), and an endless stream of annoying admin stuff that keeps creeping up. Not to mention a family so toxic that they’ve been suing each other for the past 20 years. With a little more time to think and feel, it hit me like a brick to the face: all this time, I didn’t feel safe within myself.

Yes, there was trauma. Yes, people hurt me. And yes, there were times I hurt people—even if I didn’t realize it then. But the real pain I had refused to face for so long was the shame and guilt of being a people-pleaser. I knew I deserved better but still couldn’t leave an abusive relationship. I endured years of anxiety in gymnastics, even when my coach was verbally abusive. I didn’t recognize that I was starving my body, that my binge-eating and overtraining were symptoms of deep unworthiness. I worked myself to exhaustion, always trying to prove myself to others—jobs, friends, anyone, really. But in the end, all of it was just symptoms, just different ways that the monster inside me was screaming: Please look at me. Please listen. Please see me.

Eternal Cycles & Renewal – Life, death, and rebirth in an endless loop (similar to Solve et Coagula). Unity of Opposites – Creation and destruction, order and chaos, all existing together.

Self-Reflection & Inner Work – The process of consuming one's own past to grow and evolve.

Alchemy & Transformation – Shedding old identities, evolving into something greater.

Wholeness & Oneness – The universe as a self-sustaining, interconnected system.

Because all along, the person I was so desperate to please was myself.

When I came to this realization, I cried—hard. And I understood that it was never really about others doing this or that to me. (Though, let’s be honest, I have Saturn in my birth chart, and karma will come for them. Not because I’m better than anyone, but because we all have lessons to learn for our souls to evolve. We’re on different paths, but the destination is the same: love.) Once I understood this, everything became clearer. It’s not about good vs. bad—it’s about alignment. Some things align with us at certain points in life, and others don’t. And even that can change, because life is about movement. About flow.

Society clings to rigid definitions—even in astrology, even in math—because it’s hard to accept the unknown. Hard to believe before seeing. And I get that. When I studied philosophy at university (I’m a dropout, but I still took all the classes—another story for another time), I felt like the roof had been ripped out from under me. I was left with nothing to hold on to. No framework. No security. Just me. And at the time, I wasn’t ready to face myself.

Now, years later, I understand that when there’s nothing to hold on to—no definitions providing false safety—what’s left is freedom. The freedom to be. If only we’re brave enough to look at ourselves and realize: We are. We exist. And that alone creates space for whatever we want to bring into the world. We don’t need X, Y, or Z to be worthy. We don’t need to prove anything. We are worthy simply by existing, in our most authentic selves—whatever that looks like today.

Coming to these realizations has made me stop sweating certain things. Not because I’m floating in some Zen, kumbaya state, but because I see things for what they are: Do they align with me right now, or not? That’s it. And knowing that it might change tomorrow, but my being is constant. No matter how many times my path shifts, I am. And that is something no one can take away from me.

This newfound clarity also gave me a deep appreciation for my body. Not because it conforms to beauty standards, but because it has been through SO. FUCKING. MUCH. And it still stands. It never abandoned me—even when one of my ears stopped hearing properly, even when I was diagnosed with Hashimoto’s. It never failed me. It has only ever tried to show me where I needed to heal. Even when I was overweight, it was protecting me from the pain I felt in the outside world, shielding me from how far I was from alignment. My body has been my greatest ally, and I am so, so proud of it.

Yes, I still struggle with aging. Not because of vanity, but because sometimes I look back at all the trauma, all the loss, all the pain I endured when I was young—losing family members too soon, being an unpaid therapist for the adults in my life, eating disorders, bullying, financial struggles, the constant lack of emotional safety—and I feel like I was robbed of my youth. But maybe that’s just something I need to accept.

I used to be against cosmetic procedures, but someone recently told me: Maybe it’s not about the procedure itself, but the intention behind it. Are you doing it from self-love, or from a lack of it? I don’t have an answer to that yet. But I do know this: from now on, I want to listen to my body and intuition, and let my choices be guided by my own intentions.

Oh, and one last thing. Even though I originally said I didn’t want my Substack to become a video-heavy platform, I’ve been overcoming my fear of being seen. So I might do some videos from time to time—not for the sake of content, but as an exercise in allowing myself to share, to take up space, to be visible. Regardless of outcomes. Regardless of reactions.

Because I am. And that’s enough.

Have a great rest of your week! 💜

Francisca