How to Die While You're Still Alive.

I heard him say the words, "die while you're still alive," and everything suddenly made sense.

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The tattoo on my wrist says: Reborn in my own handwriting.

Okay, not technically written by my own hand—I didn’t tattoo myself. But I did have the tattoo artist copy and paste my own handwriting.

As an adult, I rediscovered the meaning of my name reborn, and suddenly, all the stars aligned. Everything made sense with where I was at in life.

That’s why I am on a mission to become a new version of myself! It’s what I’m supposed to do. I thought.

Maybe I was always meant to start over. Maybe I was always meant to go through this process where I shed the old self to become a new, reborn version.

I know, it sounds a little hokey, but thinking maybe all of these changes I was going through were pre-destined felt a lot better than being the lone weirdo on a spiritual journey while all of her friends continued on being normal.

It must be why I downsized my house, and sold 80% of my belongings. Starting over is something I’m just born to do.

My spiritual awakening had started with a spiritual self-help book by the late Wayne W. Dyer. A book called Wishes Fulfilled that I had stumbled upon by chance—or synchronicity, as Wayne would call it. In his book, Wayne made one thing clear: If you want your life to change, you have to let the old you die.

His book made me believe that I was capable of changing my life. More importantly, his words told me, in no uncertain terms, that if I felt I was made for more in life, then I was right. I could trust that inner voice telling me that something needed to change.

For the first time — maybe ever — I felt empowered. Who knew all it would take for me to believe in myself would be for an 80 year old man to tell me I was capable? #daddyissues

At the time of reading this book, I was an image-obsessed, shopaholic in my twenties. Cheering myself up through shopping sprees and new shoes hadn’t failed me for years. However, more and more, I started to feel the joy less and less. There was an underlying feeling of discomfort in my own skin.

Instead of feeling high and happy after shopping, I felt empty and broken.

There was this itchy feeling inside telling me I was using stuff as a way to avoid taking action on changing my life. Basically, instead of leaning into the woman I wanted to be, I just tried to dress the part. It was easier.

As I consumed Wayne’s book, and took in the words he was saying, more than anything I wanted to kill off the old me. Die to my ego. Eliminate the false self. Whatever you want to call it. I needed to start over.

The only problem was, I didn’t really know how to just stop being me…

Which parts of me should stay, and what parts needed to go?

I needed something tangible, something I could put my hands on. I’ve always been a hands-on learner, after all. That’s when I decided I would start by decluttering my closet.

Before this moment, I had decluttered my closet 1,001 times. Usually just to make room for more clothes that I had just bought.

This time was different.

This time I looked at my closet with a fresh pair of eyes.

No longer did I want to be the girl who got a thrill from owning clothes that still had the tags on. The old me felt like this was some kind of badge of honor.

No longer did I want to believe a pair of heels could change my life.

I wanted to change my life. And I wanted full credit for it too.

So, with a trash bag in hand, I began killing off my old self—one clearance-rack sweater at a time.

What I didn’t realize back then was that this would become a pattern. That I would get so good at letting go, I’d eventually sabotage everything I’d built.