You Don’t Have to Eat Poison to Be Strong

They say you are what you eat.

Take the monarch caterpillar: it feeds exclusively on milkweed — a toxic plant. That poison makes it unpalatable to predators. In other words: it survives by consuming something dangerous. It becomes a butterfly, yes. But it’s one that warns you to stay away.

That metaphor gets used a lot — as if surviving pain makes you more powerful, more worthy, more interesting.

We’re told:
“What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.”
“Your trauma shaped you.”
“You’re resilient — look how far you’ve come.”

As if the poison was a gift. As if suffering was necessary for transformation.

Let me be clear:
You don’t have to suffer to be a good person.
You don’t have to eat poison to earn your wings.

Sometimes we learn to laugh at everything, and people say, “You’re so funny!”
But the truth is, we only laugh so we don’t cry — and when we’re alone, we do cry. Or go silent. Or implode.
Sometimes we’re the caretaker, the “strong one,” the one who always steps in and cleans up the mess —
because we had no other choice.

And people call that strength.

But strength born from trauma isn’t a badge — it’s a scar.
And eventually, even the strongest person breaks.

You were told the pain made you better.
That holding everyone else’s suffering made you good.
That your selflessness — your silence — your ability to endure
was something to be admired.

But what if that’s a lie?

One day a butterfly passed me by
and while it tried to hold my eye
and snare me with its beauty and promises of peace
I knew it was a fleeting thing
A creature of change
It wore a mask of beauty
While being a poisonous bitter bug with wings
— Bobi Farrow

That was anger speaking. The kind of anger that comes when you realize you've been sold a fantasy — that beauty, peace, transformation are the reward for enduring cruelty. That all the pain had a purpose.

But what if the pain wasn’t part of the plan?
What if you never had to bleed to bloom?

Some flowers need careful tending — warmth, shelter, protection.
Others grow wild in cracks of concrete.
And weeds? They grow back stronger the more you pull them —
because the roots stay behind, tangled under the surface.

You are not a weed.
You are not here to prove you can survive anything.

You deserve tenderness. You deserve ease. You deserve to grow without pain.

Your value is not measured by how much you’ve endured.

Let this be the unlearning.
Let this be the truth:
You never had to suffer to become beautiful.
You already are.

🦋