The Plucking Place (Part 3)

The Plucking Place

Some pain is chosen.

Not because you’re strong. But because you’re ready.

There came a point in my process where the breaking had already happened. The pressure had done its job. But then came the choice: would I willingly let go of the things that were no longer serving me, even if they once protected me?

This is where the eagle metaphor pierced me the most.

Imagine being the eagle, retreating to the mountain, and then having to pluck out your own feathers. Breaking your beak. Tearing off your claws.

You’re not being attacked. You’re doing it to yourself, on purpose, because you know survival means shedding.

I had to choose to pluck away:

• The identity I built around being strong

• The pride I hid behind

• The relationships I outgrew

• The version of God I thought I knew

• The habits that numbed the pain but never healed it

And it hurt.

It’s one thing to be broken. It’s another thing to let go, willingly, of what no longer fits your future.

But the truth is: you cannot fly with old feathers.

You can’t move forward while dragging the dead weight of who you used to be.

The plucking place is painful, but it’s sacred.

It’s where you lay down your past so you can pick up your wings.

Let it fall. Let it hurt. Let it make room for your wings.

In the sacred shedding,

Alexya