FREEING THE BUTTERFLY
- Felicia Brown
- Jul 30
- 5 min read
Just over four years ago, my life seemingly tilted on its' axis during a routine doctor's visit. A lump I'd casually noticed - and quickly forgotten just as the pandemic began - was rediscovered during an annual exam.
"Your thyroid is enlarged. You need to get an ultrasound ASAP." said Dr. J. "I'll refer you."
A few days later, within hours of the test, I was whisked into an unexpected whirlwind of bloodwork, biopsies, and bad news. I had thyroid cancer.
The storm continued as I spent hours researching specialists and treatments. Careening between appointments for second, third and fourth opinions, I hovered precariously between complete hysteria and total denial. Over several weeks of tearfully pinballing between it all, the four doctors agreed that my thyroid (as well as about thirty-five of its lymph node neighbors) must be removed from the premises.
Gasp. Tears. Disbelief.
As my surgery date approached the emotional roller coaster continued. How could I have cancer?! Even if it was "the best kind" according to more than one well-meaning physician, I was shell-shocked. "See how you feel when you get it!" I shouted to no one inside my head.
I also felt a lot of anger - not just about having "the best kind" of cancer but also about some past and current situations in my life. Though I loved my husband deeply, there were communication problems in our marriage. As one who deplores conflict, I'd too often remain silent when I needed to speak up, thinking I was taking the high road by not voicing or acknowledging my deepest feelings and concerns.
Instead, those unsaid words and self-contained sentiments gelled together to create a deep pool of resentment inside of me - one in which I soaked my sometimes-self-righteous ego regularly. At some point, the pool began to overflow. With nowhere else to go, the emotions I'd swallowed and held back imploded, seemingly choking me from the inside as a punishment for holding them in.
As I prepared to part with parts of my body I'd never thought much about before, I decided that being angry with the cancer was counterproductive. Instead, I chose to see it as a messenger and teacher, opening myself to hearing whatever it wanted to share. I thanked it for giving me the opportunity to learn from it and heal the issues that brought it into my life. And, despite all the stress and anxiety it was causing, I believed it and its' presence were a gift, albeit one I'd never wanted.
So, in between calls to doctor's offices and insurance specialists, I began to unwrap my "gift"through a lot of soul searching. Little by little, I began uncovering things I had buried deep in my body and memories, peeling back blinders and barriers I'd put around certain moments and events of my life. I didn't know exactly what might have contributed to the dis-ease in my body, but I want to clear and cleanse as much as I could before the big day.
As I pulled away the layers, one truth I saw repeatedly was that something had to change. My thyroid - the butterfly of the body - and I had made ourselves sick and needed to escape the toxic, emotional cocoons we'd built around ourselves. I knew I could not continue to be the same person or remain where I was with the same mindset. A big change was coming - I could feel it - but didn't know exactly what it was or when and how it would happen.
Surgery was difficult - much more invasive, extensive and painful than expected. Similarly, the recovery was longer and much more challenging than the surgeons led me to believe.
Despite these facts, I almost immediately felt like a new woman. For example, I'd been quite worried about having a large scar on my neck. Upon examining myself in the hospital bathroom mirror, I realized that long, red mark I saw was not an incision but rather a "butterfly escape hatch"! This thought brought me tremendous joy.
I also began reading a series of books on creating magic in your life. This led me to doing all kinds of fun exercises and visualizations to redefine who I wanted to be and how I wanted to live. One activity involved rewriting the stories I'd been telling myself (and others) about my past, present, and future self and experiences. I was already doing that about my scar and began to pay close attention to how I spoke about myself, my life and the road ahead.
I could share many more stories about this time and maybe I will someday. But for now. I'll summarize by saying that thyroid cancer was indeed a messenger, teacher and gift that led me toward a brand-new path. I am forever grateful I was ready to hear what it had to say.
Now, four years after the Butterfly Escape Hatch installation, my life is completely different.
I began listening to my intuition, inner child and highest self above all else. By honoring their desires, impulses and guidance, I am the happiest and healthiest I've ever been.
This led to spend most of a year house-sitting and "airbnbing" around the US looking for my "perfect-for-now" home, which I found - and absolutely adore.
I also began creating art to deal with (and sometimes forget about) the complex emotions that came from having cancer, leaving home, and all the aftermath of both.
If you've been following me, you've probably noticed that art has come a huge part of my life and business. It also has connected me with a wonderful, supportive creative community including the folks who created the podcast below. (It's a quick watch - about 5 minutes).
I now split my time between North Carolina and Florida, a dream I hadn’t imagined possible a few years ago. And, like the caterpillar goes into its cocoon and turns into a complete mess before emerging as something new and beautiful, my relationship with my husband is going through its own miraculous metamorphosis.
Though I still work as a speaker, coach and consultant for the massage and spa industry, in the years since the "butterfly escape hatch" was installed, I've fully stepped into my identity as an artist and love the adventures it takes me on.
Butterflies aren't meant to be held in by cages, or even the cocoons they wrap around themselves. Instead they are meant to be formed and transformed by them, literally reborn into a new life after a dark period of pausing to rebuild who they are from the inside out. In some ways, I am still emerging from my cocoon, stretching my wings and learning to fly. But compared to who I was before the butterfly escape hatch was installed, I'm lighter, freer and soaring higher than ever. This butterfly is free and no longer has anything to escape.
NOTE: Everyone's journey is different, so what I write here is my story alone. Whether you've been down a similar path or not, I hope it brings you some insight, comfort or hope.
If you are in KISSIMMEE, FL please check out the Bright Matter Exhibit at the Kissimmee Town Hall in Kissimmee, FL or click here to see the virtual exhibit on Instagram.
If you are in the GREENSBORO, NC, please visit The Marshall Muse Gallery for the "Abstract Impressions" exhibit. I know you'll just love the venue!
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