If growing inside her was something to live for, then why did it feel like she was dying? It was not easy keeping a lid on the past, a latch on the present, and a lock on the future. Tonya … We are never free until we let go. How can I be true to myself, and at the same time, traverse in this universe without trespassing? Are you lost? He wanted to know. No … I’m not lost … but I don’t know where I am. In her journal that night, she wrote. Why do some people get stuck as caterpillars, never able to emerge from their cocoons and become butterflies?