I’ve learned that life isn’t a straightforward journey but a series of profound, interconnected experiences.
Each period of my life has been a distinct lifetime, rich with its own emotional texture and transformative energy.
The span with my eldest daughter was adventurous—full-on, taken to the chest, hazardous and fun, yet profoundly searching.
It was a time of raw exploration, where boundaries blurred, and possibilities seemed endless.
My time with my late son felt like psychological dimensional bungee jumping—a period of discovering and realizing.
Each moment was charged with an intensity that simultaneously destabilized and enlightened me.
The decades with my youngest daughter emerged as a marathon, during which I consistently went against my own nature for her sake. This was love in its most nuanced form—sacrifice transformed into pure commitment.
Reflecting on my foundational periods, I recognize two pivotal phases: The first eleven years were ground-laying, establishing my fundamental perspectives.
The subsequent decade between my mother’s unexpected departure and my own motherhood was a time of being desperately “Seeking Susan” lost—a beautiful, aching period of self-discovery.
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These aren’t mere stages but complete lifetimes nested within my single existence. Each carries its own wisdom, its own irreplaceable emotional geography.
I’ve realized that life is not a predetermined path (formation, marriage, children, dog, tree) but a continuous process of transformation—a deeply personal narrative constantly being written and rewritten.
May Harmony find you
Irena Phaedra
The C.O.M.C. Files 