Hi, I’m the Platypus. And Yes, I’m Weird. Let’s Begin.

Ever look in the mirror and think, “Who designed this? Who thought eyebrows AND anxiety was a good combo?” Yeah. Same.

Hi, I am JT Santana. Welcome to becoming — a movement and a mindset. Depending on the day, it might also be a minor identity crisis dressed in Crocs and radical self-love. You made it. You are here. And I promise, you do not need to be fixed. Not even a little.

Let me give it to you straight, which is funny because I am not.

The becoming series was not born in a boardroom. It was not made by a think tank or a trust fund or even someone with a regular sleep schedule. It started somewhere between a panic attack in a Walgreens parking lot. Then, it continued with a conversation. A kid looked me dead in the eye and asked, “Is it okay to be like me?” And in that moment, every cell in my body screamed yes—even the ones I forgot to hydrate.

But how do you explain that yes? How do you fight shame that has a thousand heads and really great PR? How do you stand up and say, “I’m still becoming”? The world demands you arrive perfect, packaged, and preferably photogenic.

You make a space.

You build it with words, with stories, with memes about therapy alpacas and emotionally unavailable houseplants. You talk about pain without flinching and joy without apologizing. You stop editing your weird. You throw glitter at the rules. You call it becoming.

And you invite everyone who has ever been told they are too much, too broken, too different, too “not normal” to come sit next to you and say:

“So what? Normal is a setting on the dryer. I am not laundry.”

Stigma is a scam. A lie we have all been sold—that your worth depends on how well you pretend to be okay. If you are loud, then you must be doing life wrong. If you are disabled, then you must be doing life wrong. If you are chronically misunderstood, then you must be doing life wrong. If you are healing out loud, then you must be doing life wrong. If you are learning how to just exist, then you must be doing life wrong.

Nah. You are doing life weirdly, and that is sacred.

This post is not about convincing you to believe in becoming something else. It is not an overpriced wellness trend wrapped in lavender oil and a podcast. This is not a pyramid scheme. There are no essential oils, unless you count sarcasm.

This is me saying: I see you. Not in a weird “I’m watching” way. More like a “Yeah, I saw you cry after getting the wrong drive-thru order and still tip the cashier” way. You are human. Beautifully, stubbornly, ridiculously human.

And that is the point.

You are not a failure because you have not “arrived.” You are not unworthy. This is because your journey does not look like a filtered Instagram reel set to inspirational piano music. You are becoming. And not the Disney version, either. This version includes mess and mucus. It has mixed messages and a surprisingly high tolerance for emotional breakthroughs in gas station bathrooms.

Somewhere, someone decided that healing should be quiet. That pain should be hidden. That if you talk too openly about trauma, disability, identity, or mental health, you are making people uncomfortable.

To which I say: good.

Let discomfort do its job. Let it shake things up. Let it expose all the lies we were taught about perfection. Let it remind us that authenticity is not always cute, but it is always real. And that “real” is what saves lives.

You are not too late to this party. You are not behind. You are not alone. You are becoming. And you belong here.

This space will be where we unpack what that means. We will laugh. A lot. We will cry, probably more than we planned. We will scream into pillows, and then we will throw those pillows at stigma until it bruises. We will ask messy questions. We will burn shame in bonfires. We will write, rage, rebuild, and rest.

And yes, there will be a platypus.

Why a platypus, you ask?

Because the platypus is proof that even Mother Nature has her “Screw it, let’s get weird” moments. Duck-billed, beaver-tailed, egg-laying, venomous, and gloriously uncategorizable. Scientists did not even believe it was real at first. They thought it was a prank. But it kept on living, thriving, and confusing people — and now it is a whole vibe type of thing!

So if you are part-misfit, part-miracle, part-Muppet meltdown, congratulations. You are the reason becoming exists. You are not a footnote in someone else’s story. You are the whole damn plot twist.!!

This is not about perfection. This is not a brand. This is not about becoming something that finally earns approval. It is about unbecoming everything they told you you had to be. Remember that your weird, your wild, your wondering is holy.

So let us start here, right now, with whatever you have. Anxiety, joy, sass, sadness, neurodivergence, chronic pain, queer magic, scars, dreams, exhaustion, hope, or just curiosity. Bring it.

becoming starts when you stop performing and start breathing.

You do not have to fix yourself to love yourself.

You do not have to earn rest.

You do not have to explain why you need softness.

You just have to stay.

For one more hour. One more breath. One more laugh. One more post. One more night of knowing that no matter what they say—

You are not too much.

You are not too late.

You are not alone.

You are becoming.

And I am honored to be becoming with you.