The Poetry of Becoming

We all reach moments where life feels like a riddle we can’t quite solve—when the path ahead dissolves into uncertainty, and we wonder if we’ve been here before. Again? This again? I thought I had already integrated this, learned from it, transcended it. And yet, here I am.

Poesía Botánica was born from this threshold—the space between who I was and who I was becoming. A space that felt, at times, like being lost. But what if lostness isn’t something to fear? What if it’s life, in its quiet wisdom, guiding us deeper into ourselves?

I have reinvented myself many times, and every cycle has carried the same lesson: growth is not linear. It spirals. We return to familiar feelings, but we are never the same. The version of me standing in uncertainty today is not the one who stood here before. The difference is subtle but profound. The wisdom, the lessons, the shifts—they accumulate, and eventually, they bloom.

I wrote this after watching the Barbie movie—America Ferrera's monologue stirred something deep within me. The contradictions of what’s expected from women are relentless, woven into every aspect of life.

Poesía Botánica is many things, but at its heart, it is an invitation—to carve your own path, to let it unfold free from the weight of expectations. To honor the beauty of who you are, rather than contort yourself to fit in. Resist the pull to shrink. Instead, expand. Let your life be yours. Find solace in nature’s rhythms and the poetry of your own unfolding.

I leave you with this - what if feeling lost is not an ending, but a beginning? A call to uncover a truth that is yours alone to find.

--

From the moment I could walk,
They ushered me into halls of conformity,
Where uniqueness was drowned
By the chorus of standardized dreams.

They spoke of success like a faraway shore,
A race to be won, a mountain to conquer,
But never asked if the journey was mine to take,
Or if the prize was one I longed to claim.

I look right and I'm shown only what I don't have,
A parade of possessions, accolades, and likes,
I look left and see a pile of expectations,
Each turn a new demand, a fresh contradiction.

"Find yourself,"

But where does one look
When the map is a tangle of mixed messages?

Be confident, but not too bold,
Be strong, but always approachable,
Passionate, yet perfectly composed.

Be authentic,
Yet fit in, belong, don't stand out too much.
Chase your dreams, but follow our path,
Be unique, but color within the lines.

In this maze of should's and should-nots,
I search for my own voice, my own truth.
But it's hard to hear over the noise
Of a world that values doing over being.
In the rush to achieve and acquire,
I've become a stranger to my buried, muddled heart.

Am I lost? Perhaps.
But aren't we all wanderers, In this labyrinth of life,
Seeking a center that feels like home?

This feeling of lostness,
It's not a failure,but an awakening,
A realization that the map I've been given,
Might not lead to the treasure I seek.

So yes, I feel lost,
But in this lostness, I find:
A call to rediscover,
A journey to reclaim,
The self I've always been.
And perhaps, in acknowledging this lostness,
I've taken the first step,
On a path that's truly mine.

-- 

A Moment for Reflection

Lostness is an invitation—to listen, to feel, to uncover what’s waiting beneath the surface. If this resonated at any level, take a moment to sit with it. Grab a journal, close your eyes, and ask yourself:

✨ Where in my life do I feel disconnected?
✨ What if this uncertainty was guiding me somewhere deeper?
✨ What if I allowed myself to be in the unknown—without rushing to fix it?

Let the answers come without force. Let them surprise you. This is your unfolding.

To the poetry of becoming.

Tamara