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  • Writer's pictureEster Caty Young

Across The Threshold of Metamorphosis

Updated: Jun 22

"Release, release

the hard, rusty chains

those that binds me

those that blinds me

take color from my veins

when awakening

hits my sallow skin

the flickering

of street lamps

takes me in

I step forward –

a shadow of my ghost

for l've been dosed

by those that shaped me

by those that raped me

within my own mind

now silence and I

stroll across the path

of agony and wrath

looking for a priest

to wash away memories

that crawl like a beast

starved for affection

with an erection


my wretched soul

release, release

those that binds me

those that blinds me

those that were in control"

poem by Ester Caty Young

In the quiet sanctity of the body, where life once blossomed in between its tides,

Three Fates, (the ethereal grandmothers, spinning destinies

from the thread spun from their spindle) further spun their threads of my path.

Having turned forty-two years old, just nine months ago, everything now comes to a head.

Nine months, the number of months in pregnancy and the gestation of new life

and forty-two, a symbol of a threshold, a mid-point of life, which to me represents

the "Answer to the Ultimate Question of Life, the Universe, and Everything".


Life's “wandering pilgrim and storyteller”, I find myself

on a somewhat alchemical journey of release and renewal.

It was merely eight months ago when my diagnosis

of a positive BRCA 1 gene mutation came to light.

A diagnosis that, like a shadow lurking in the periphery my entire life

has brought me face to face with an upcoming yet perpetual Metamorphosis.

Another moment of profound letting go of a heavy burden in my genetic lineage

that runs like a curse through my ancestral legacy.


Whilst many members on the maternal side of the family

have succumbed to the consequences of BRCA-positive diagnoses,

where full-blown cancer has developed and they have had to

start fighting for their life, thus giving them no choice,

I was grateful to be presented with one.


Life's choices, like Russian roulette, span the dance of fate and chance,

where each spin of the chamber whispers promises of dreams or despair.

The heart races caught between the thrill of potential and the dread of the unknown

as we stand on the precipice of destiny, a silent prayer on our lips,

awaiting the click that will define our journey.


Cancer, the curse that weighs heavily upon my bloodline like the grim reaper

that swiftly cuts off what she can. This was a risk too great to embrace or nurse.

I have seen too much and the cancer creeping into my origins

seemed to be a merciless, aggressive one, to say the least.

The idea of having to spend my future days in anxiety wondering

who's going to get there first; the surgeon's scalpel, cancer or the Grim Reaper's scythe,

was not something I wished to bet on.... So, I chose my fate.


The weaving of a new tapestry of strength, healing and light

from the threads of past and future.

When I ran away from my family at eighteen;

(a story you can read about in my upcoming memoir At Last I Am Free),

I was determined to break all chains, to sever all ties that bound me to the darkness,

that hovered like a black cloud over the horizon of my future.

A story fuelled not just by scary diagnoses but also by decades

of chaos, abuse, secrets and unspeakable tragedies at home.


That “It ends with me”, was a decision I spoke to God about

in a silent prayer on the day that I ran away.

I will not allow the patterns to continue.


However, unaware of all the nooks and crannies hidden beneath the dark veil,

the sacred rite of passage, of liberation, commenced

and I did not fully grasp the magnitude of the fight that lay ahead of me.


Years of inciters, exciters, healers, shamans, initiations and light-workers

crossed my path to help me reach my goal of freedom.

Yet, I do admit that I was rather upset to find out that despite all the hard work

I had done through self-development and by trying to release

the trauma endured, not to mention the amount of money it cost me,

it still resulted in a positive BRCA-1 diagnosis.

At first, I was under the impression that I had failed and I felt bitter. I was pissed!


Then, suddenly, it all came to a the darkness of the soul....light!

This was the pinnacle of my healing...removing my uterus was the final rite!

Undergoing a preventative full hysterectomy and double mastectomy

was the final stage in liberating myself and finally breaking the chains.


The womb is the connection between my ancestors, the sacred divine portal

where life begins and where our genetic code is launched into the next generation.


Removal of it will for me and my life story, be the absolute closing chapter

of all those twenty-four years of deep healing and the final process of

release, liberation and regenerative rebirth.


So now, nine months after turning forty-two years of age, I am undergoing the surgery;

the sacred rite of passage, that is not merely a medical procedure

but a profound transformation. The womb; the sacred portal of the divine,

the vessel of creation and mystery, now gently resigns and renounces its role,

allowing the Spirit to reclaim the space within and embrace new beginnings.


In the void left behind there is a fertile ground for spiritual rebirth

where one’s essence can flourish unencumbered.


The second and last part will be my double mastectomy with reconstruction,

which I will undergo in the next year or so.

Everyone's story is different, but I do wish

that my story will be a source of inspiration and hope to others.

2024 © Ester Caty Young, All Rights Reserved

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