31/10/2025
It’s been 3 years since my mask cracked. 3 years since I developed Bell’s Palsy.
What I did not realise at the time was that I was not just losing movement on one side of my face, I was about to drop the mask I was wearing.
The one performing, smiling, holding everything together on the outside while the inside crumbled.
As I reflect, I see that Bell’s Palsy wasn’t just a random event, it was the breaking point after years in survival mode
Bell’s palsy was a physical manifestation of a nervous system pushed beyond its capacity, over and over again. And while by all accounts I appear mostly healed, my face still reminds me if I overdo it or if I simply just need to stop and rest.
Interestingly the left side of our body is the feminine side, are we receiving or are we only giving?
Are we allowing ourselves the same care we give to others?
Clearly that balance was out.
The healing wasn’t just about facial symmetry. It became about truth.
Slowing down. Letting softness in. Letting myself be seen, really seen, not just the carefully curated version.
This story isn’t just mine.
Many midlife women reach a point where the mask begins to crack
Where the nervous system says 'enough.'
We can’t carry all of this anymore!
We can’t keep pretending we are ok when we are not.
It’s not weakness.
It’s a call back to balance and wholeness.
If you’re in your own cracking-open season, know this: it’s not the end of you.
It’s the beginning of your metamorphosis 🦋