The Art of Becoming: Healing, Ego Death, and the Surprising Joy of Not Knowing
- julie77nguyen
- Jul 29
- 4 min read
This past year has felt like a deep scrub of the soul. I’ve been on a healing journey for a
while now—years, really—but this last stretch? It’s been the “pull the fridge out and clean behind it” kind of healing. The stuff you didn’t know was still lurking. The stuff that quietly shaped your entire nervous system, your relationships, your identity.
I enrolled in a Soul-Based, Trauma-Informed Somatic Therapy course thinking, “Cool, I’ll get some tools to help others and myself.” But little did I know, it would fling me headfirst down a rabbit hole of realizations and reckonings. I began to understand—really understand—what trauma is, how it lives in the body, and that no, you can’t mindset your way out of a dysregulated nervous system.
I discovered I’ve likely been operating in fight or flight for most of my life. I unpacked my attachment style. I dove into parts work (hello, IFS), visualization, breathwork, sequencing trauma responses, and slowly… something began to shift.
And now?
Now I find myself in what I can only call an ego death.
Ugh. That phrase used to bug me. “Ego death.” It sounded dramatic and unnecessary. Because let’s be real—our ego isn’t the enemy. It’s part of us. It protects us, it gets us out of bed, it helps us do the things. The ego creates structure, identity, safety. It says, “I am this. I do that. I belong here.” It’s the scaffolding of being human.
But something in me has softened lately. Quieted. And it’s uncomfortable.
I’m noticing old energetic patterns and mental loops almost immediately now—whereas before, they ran the show. That inner critic, the overachiever, the people-pleaser… they’re still here, but they no longer have full control of the mic.
And as my nervous system slowly learns what regulation feels like—actual regulation, not just masking—I keep asking: “Is this what it feels like to be safe? To be peaceful?”
The becoming is something we don’t talk about enough. It’s not a straight line. It’s wild to witness yourself being different. To feel joy weaving into your days but to also feel… kinda weird about it. Like your body doesn’t totally trust that it’s real yet. That it can last.
In my 20s, I worked hard to become something. To be the best. And, to be fair, I did become very successful. (Was I happy? Ehh. Let’s just say I was successful.)
Then when that identity crumbled, I spent the next several years surviving—trying to be someone again. Trying to prove that I could rise from the ashes shinier, better, more impressive. I efforted. Hard.
And now… here I am. Not exactly where I thought I’d be. The dream didn’t fully come to fruition. But in so many ways, I landed in the life my soul was craving all along.
I wanted peace. Freedom. Safety. Joy. Simplicity. I wanted to be taken care of. I wanted to feel taken care of.
And here I am—living in the unknown with a little more grace, learning what surrender really means (not just the bumper sticker version).
Efforting vs. Ease. Hustle vs. Alignment. Being vs. Doing.
As a lifelong self-help junkie, I’ve read all the books. Surrender, mindfulness, embodiment, the Law of Attraction… but embodying these concepts? Whew. Whole different thing.
And yet, I think I’m starting to. Maybe. Kind of.
I’m not going to lie—this ego death feels terrifying. What if I never become someone again? What if I don’t achieve another shiny thing? What if no one knows my name?
And what if… my life just becomes anonymously simple?
Joyful. Present. Subtle. Real. Authentic.
Fuck. What an interesting crossroads.
What an interesting invitation.
To trust more. To soften. To let the old versions of “success” die off. To live in the magic of the unfolding.
Because the truth is—whether we like it or not—the unfolding is inevitable.
And what happens if I just… surrender? To the unknown. To the beauty I can’t yet see. Trusting—really trusting—that what’s coming is even better than anything I could’ve scripted or strategized.
But with that surrender comes the work of worth. The energetic imprint of deserving. Of letting in the goodness.
I have to remind myself—over and over again—that I am worthy. Worthy of the magic. Worthy of the joy. Worthy of the cool, wild, abundant, soul-aligned things that show up when I stop gripping so tight.
I am worthy.
And so are you.
May we keep unbecoming everything we thought we had to be, in order to become who we truly are.
“Maybe the journey isn’t so much about becoming anything. Maybe it’s about unbecoming everything that isn’t really you, so you can be who you were meant to be in the first place.”– Paulo Coelho
Here’s to the art of becoming. The beauty of unlearning. The sacredness of trust.
We’re doing it. One breath, one choice, one brave moment at a time.
xo- JULIE
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