Sometimes, you want to speak from inside the incubator.
You want people to know that you are in a season of becoming. That you are being pressed, stretched, broken down and rebuilt in ways that are not visible from the outside.
You want to announce how uncomfortable your metamorphosis is.
Perhaps then, people will be gentler with you. Perhaps they will cut you some slack. Perhaps there will be a flood of compassion that will make the weight a little easier to carry. Perhaps someone will offer to bear a portion of the burden. Perhaps someone, somewhere, knows a