I turned 35 last week.

Cheers to 35 trips around the sun, around this wild, beautiful world.

Cheers to not having it all together.

Cheers to not knowing where I’m going, what I’m doing, or what’s next and being okay with that.

Here I am, doing this thing called life, standing at yet another crossroad. Honestly, it feels a bit like a midlife crisis.

Sometimes I truly wonder if I have any say in this life at all. Because the more I follow my heart, the more it guides me,

sometimes through beauty, sometimes through pain. And with each wave of pain, new doors seem to open.

I’m realizing how tightly I’ve tried to hold the reins… planning, organizing, making sure everything made sense and fell into place. I did all the things I thought I was supposed to do. All the things I thought would keep me safe.

And now, it’s all unraveled.

Just a year ago, I was comfortable. I owned an apartment in the beautiful city of White Rock, just steps from the ocean. I was doing what I love, teaching, creating, surrounded by a circle of friends who constantly reflected light back to me. And still, I chose to let it all go. For growth. For the unknown.

I thought I had surrendered. But life keeps asking me to surrender even more.

I may not have a clear vision of what’s next but I know what it feels like. And every day, I’m choosing to move closer to that feeling.

After so many years of building my independence and living on my own, I truly came to love my solitude. I created a life where I had space to breathe, to reflect, to be.

But I’ve started to notice something deeper. There were times I was spiritually bypassing… clinging to what felt good, letting go of anything that didn’t. Protecting my peace but not really learning how to hold that peace in the midst of chaos.

While spending time around family — well, we all know how that can go, right?

It yet again has brought me face to face with my past, my trauma, and all my tender triggers. I noticed how tense my belly has been for years, how often I’ve held my breath.

It wasn’t until I spent my birthday alone, returning to my roots in the mountain of Ślęża, that something shifted. After sitting with some medicine, I climbed to the top and had a good, long cry. And as I walked back down, I felt the weight of shame I’d been holding all these years. deep in my belly.

I let it go. And suddenly, I felt pregnant with something new. Not literally, but energetically. Like something was ready to be born. For the first time in a long while, I could breathe again.

I haven’t been feeling the best in my body lately because, truthfully, I’ve been unkind to it. Forcing, pushing, pretending I was listening when I really wasn’t. But now…

now I’m starting to truly lean into listening. Not just with my ears, but with my whole being.