The Breakup With Myself

What happens when the life that still works no longer feels alive

Who writes and sends an email on a Sunday evening?

Well, me. 🙄

I’ve been a bit missing for a week or so, and I wanted to explain why, because you may have seen my last video a few days ago and thought: what is this all about?

I know. And I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be confusing, but as things stand, I can’t really help it. It is confusing.

Or at least, it looks confusing from the outside.

From the inside, what’s happening is actually quite simple: I have reached a point where I can no longer ignore the gap between the life I’m living and the life that feels true.

And that is what you are witnessing in real time.

It’s not a dramatic overnight collapse but the very real struggles ( which I do believe are blessings in disguise ) of a 52-year-old woman realizing that the version of herself she has been living is no longer the one she wants to continue feeding.

If you’ve been following me for a while ( I mean really following me, not just scrolling past a photo here and there) you’ll have noticed that this shift has been happening for some time now. This did not come out of nowhere. It has been building for months.

The video I recently published, Whatever Happened to Miss Dawson?, was not random. It was simply the moment where something I had been feeling privately for a long time became impossible not to say out loud.

Because the truth is: Miss Dawson has been a role. A persona. A stage name. A version of me that served a purpose, and perhaps served it well. But a role is not the same thing as a soul.

My real name is not Rose. It is Eva.

Eva means life - the living one. No wonder it feels like a return.

So there you go. It’s Eva, actually.

Saying that publicly felt liberating, and that alone tells me it was the right thing to do.

In a few years’ time, I don’t think it will feel strange at all. Right now, perhaps it does. Transitions are awkward like that. They are rarely neat, rarely clean, and almost never as straightforward as people want them to be.

And that includes the practical side of all this too. I’m still not entirely sure what I’ll do with social media. It turns out changing the handle of a verified account is not exactly the smoothest process in the world, so time will tell. This won’t be some perfectly tidy rebrand where everything changes overnight and all the little boxes line up nicely.

Life is not a Canva template.

One thing I do want you to understand, though, is that if you see me “active” on Instagram or elsewhere, it may mean very little. I’ve been reusing content there for a long time. Social media, for me, is a tool. I do not consume it. I use it.

Substack and YouTube are where I want to be more fully from now on. Those are the places where I can actually think, speak, and create in a way that feels more aligned with where I’m going.

And where am I going?

Well… into what I’ve been calling the Eros Path.

Not because I’m trying to sound fancy, but because I needed a name for something I had already begun to discover and couldn’t ignore anymore.

The Eros Path is not a path you follow.

It is a path you make.

The simplest way I can explain it is this: it is the difference between waking up into a life you actually want to live and waking up with that familiar feeling of: “Oh no… this shit again. Let me scroll a bit, have a drink, distract myself, numb myself, postpone myself.”

The Eros Path is about aliveness. Alignment. Purpose. Energy that wants to move toward life instead of away from it.

And no, this doesn’t only apply to artists, mystics, or people with unusual lives.

I was speaking today with an old ex-boyfriend of mine, who is a musician and has made a living through music his whole adult life. At one point I found myself saying to him, “You are living the erotic life!”

And he immediately understood what I meant.

It is a Sunday. He was having his coffee, as I was having mine, and when we finished talking he told me he was heading to the studio to finish some work before taking his dog for a long walk later.

Sunday!

Now, if you’re in the herd mentality, Sunday is not a work day, right?

But if you are living an erotic life, Sunday is as good as Tuesday. Because the thing you call “work” is not a dead obligation you drag yourself toward. It is where your energy actually wants to go. It is part of the current of your life.

That, to me, is living erotically.

And just to be clear, I am not saying you need to be a musician, or some wild creative, or quit your job and run barefoot into the hills. You can have a regular 9-to-5, work as a plumber, work in an office, whatever - and still live erotically.

Because it is not only what you do.

It is how you do it.
How you feel in your life.
Whether your days are connected to you or merely endured by you.

That’s the conversation I’m interested in now.

Not fantasy for fantasy’s sake.

Life.

Real life.

And perhaps that is why this whole last week felt so important.

Stonehenge

I was in Stonehenge for the equinox, and it was magical. We got up at 3am, arrived around 5am, then walked in the dark toward the stones to watch the sunrise.

It felt powerful, ancient, symbolic - like standing inside a threshold. It was freaking 0 degrees Celsius too 😅

Astrologically, the sky right now is intense. There are transits happening that mark the end of one chapter and the beginning of another. I know astrology gets resistance. I know many intelligent people dismiss it. But I also know what I have seen, what I have felt, and the moments of recognition it can give people when they are willing to look.

And yes, many people have a reading, have their little aha moment, and then go straight back to their same life, bored as fuck, as if nothing happened.

That frustrates me sometimes.

Not because I want everyone to become an astrologer, but because it says so much about how hard it is for human beings to really change - even when they are shown something true about themselves.

The whole week in Avalon felt transformative to me. A rebirth, really.

And what came out of it was a kind of breakup.

Not with another person.

With myself.
Or rather, with a version of myself that had served its purpose and now feels strange, distant, and no longer fully mine.

That is what this moment is.

That is what this shift is.

And maybe the clearest way to say all of this is this:

Sometimes confusion is not a sign that you are lost. Sometimes it is what happens when an old identity is dying before the new one is fully formed.

That is where I am.

And maybe some of you are there too.

So no, I do not have a polished conclusion for you yet. I am still in it. Still feeling it. Still making the path by walking it.

But I do know this much:

There comes a point when the life that still “works” no longer feels alive. And when that moment comes, the bravest thing you can do is stop pretending you don’t feel it.

More to come soon.

Eva :)