From Head over Heart to Hell and Back

The next big lesson life taught me was to never prioritize my head over my heart.

After establishing myself in the corporate world and still not feeling the fulfilment I had expected, I began yearning, more and more, to leave Germany and return to Poland. This decision didn’t come suddenly. It grew within me, slowly, like a root sprouting from my big toe, reaching up to my hip to give me stability, and eventually making its way to my heart. That’s when I knew: my decision was complete, and it was time to act.

But life, as it often does, tests us the moment we reveal who we truly are. And when you dare to make a decision from your heart, The Mighty sends a trial to make sure you mean it. My test was one of letting go.

I was preparing to move to Poland, and one last thing on my to-do list was a surgery. Nothing major, just a routine procedure, but I was terrified. I was consumed by fear, yet I convinced myself it had to be done before I left.

And so, guided by fear, I stepped into what became the most powerful journey of my life: an emotional and physical apocalypse. I’m not exaggerating when I say I went through hell and back.

What began as a standard operation escalated into a nightmare. I found myself bedridden in a hospital, unable to eat or sleep for two weeks, and trapped in constant, unbearable pain. I had developed 3 out of 7 possible complications from a procedure that was supposed to be routine and underwent 5 more surgeries in an attempt to fix it.

It’s unimaginable how quickly life as you know it can collapse. You don’t need to know exactly what was done to me, partly because it was inhumane, like being treated as a piece of meat, but the feeling of helplessness and despair was overwhelming. I was just about to start over in a new country, and suddenly, I could barely move.

Most people might have taken this as a sign: “This is a warning. Maybe you’re not meant to go.” But I didn’t see it that way.

Someone close to me told me something that stuck: “You can’t eat cookies and still have them. You have to choose one path and commit to it.”

And in that moment, I knew: I wasn’t going to fight for the life I was leaving behind. I wanted to fight for the life that was still waiting for me. So, I asked my then-boyfriend to sign the lease in Poland, even though I didn’t know if or when I’d be able to leave the hospital bed.

That was the moment I realized healing was my responsibility. No one else could do it for me. I had to focus every bit of my energy on recovering. When I left the first hospital after two weeks, I was barely able to walk. For most of that time, I felt more animal than human: enduring 24/7 inflammatory pain, with the only thing I could actively focus on being my breath.

That’s why they say breath is life. In those darkest moments, your breath is what holds you to this world, what separates you from death.

I endured unspeakable pain, and strangely, I felt the need to go through it. As horrific as the experience was, it gifted me the life I had been dreaming of. That suffering made me appreciate life a million times more. I now lived like there’s no tomorrow, humbly grateful, as if I paid a karmic debt and walked away from death itself.

In September 2015, I was reborn through pain and unwavering faith that something better awaited me.

That same faith, which had quietly taken root inside me, gave me the courage to take that first step toward change. Leaving behind a comfortable and fully functioning life wasn’t easy. But after what I’d been through, there was no going back, because I was no longer the same person who walked into that surgery consumed by fear.

This experience taught me that, in life, you will walk through fire, and no one will be there to save you. But it also taught me something even more powerful: escaping the fire isn’t about resisting it. It’s about setting goals that align with your soul. That alignment is your path out of hell.

And finally, I learned that no matter what life throws your way, it’s your choice how you live every moment. It’s your decision to create a life that’s worth living.

Would I go through it all again?

Hell yes.

Becoming the Natural Woman: The Ultimate Rebellion in a Performative World

Not long ago, women were expected to fulfill rigid standards of being a “good” woman: dutiful wife, devoted mother, obedient daughter. In a world where societal norms and others’ opinions defined a woman’s worth, conforming felt like the most natural thing. After all, society survives through sameness, through people fitting into roles.

Today, we’re lucky to live in different times. We can choose how we dress, who we love, how we earn, and how we live. Life has opened up spaces that used to be off-limits to women. The once “normed” woman has become the modern woman, one who, paradoxically, is now expected to handle even more, aided by technology and pressure alike.

Yes, we have choices now. But does that mean life has actually become easier? I asked myself this often while still living what I now call a “male lifestyle.” What did emancipation really give us if we just moved from one box: home and children, into another: career and constant striving? Both still ask us to adjust, to perform, to play by rules we didn’t write.

I was around 32 when I reached a big career milestone. I got the promotion I had worked so hard for, and I was surprised by how little it meant. No joy, no lasting fulfillment, just the quiet realization that I had become hard, assertive, and goal-driven. I had shaped myself around women who prioritized success over softness, and I realized the image I had built of myself was no longer mine. It was painted in someone else’s colors.

I knew I needed to change. But where do you start when your whole life has been shaped by ideals that don’t resonate anymore? By chance, I watched a TV program about a woman in Russia who was teaching women how to reclaim their femininity. These were successful, strong women, just like me, who had lost their softness. And I thought, I want that too. I had buried my feminine side for years, and suddenly, I was ready to let her back in.

That turning point came as I moved back to my home country, Poland, where traditional gender roles were still more visible. It was easier there to tap into my feminine energy. But femininity isn’t about how you look, it’s about how you are. It’s about slowing down, softening, being. Letting others play a role in your life without assigning every part. It’s about letting go of control and learning to trust your own rhythm: your intuition, your feelings, your heart.

I started building my life around meaningful relationships instead of strategic ones. My interest in people deepened, and with it, my emotional capacity. I noticed I was moving away from people who only liked me when I was convenient, but shied away from my emotional depth. I started listening to my own natural rhythm and diving into my creative nature. I began hearing that small voice inside, the one I had ignored for so long. And I became louder, less filtered, less polished. I felt more like me.

I spent most of my 30s living in this feminine space, and in that time, I did things I can barely believe now. Why? Because I trusted life. I surrendered. I let my intuition lead. I walked away from artificial control (like birth control) and returned to the cyclical, raw rhythm of my body. I learned how to ride emotional waves instead of fearing them. Reclaiming my wild feminine nature was the most loving thing I could do for myself.

Looking back, that phase of my life was about becoming the woman I was always meant to be. It was about healing, maturing, rediscovering my essence, and finally letting go of being the “good girl.” When a woman speaks her truth, she becomes a threat to those who don’t. Reclaiming my power and stepping away from the comfort of other people’s expectations came with a cost. But when external validation stops mattering and you let your true voice take the lead, you understand something profound:

Being liked is optional.
Being valued is everything.

In a world where everyone wants to go viral, I chose to be real.

How to Keep Energy from Places Within

I recently visited Athens and didn’t expect the profound transformation this trip would bring, nor how it would stay with me energetically. We all know the pleasure of travel: the joy, the excitement. But once we return home and settle back into our routines, the lightness and pleasant energy we felt tends to fade.

I began wondering how I could make this fleeting energy last. That led me to reflect on spiritual practices. In these, too, we reach elevated states momentarily but train ourselves over time to maintain that energy more consistently, until we can eventually access it on demand.

What we do frequently becomes our frequency.

Now let’s shift to less pleasant situations. We all remember the feeling of dreading a job we disliked. Our bodies already anticipated the heaviness of the experience, making it hard to show up. In contrast, when going on vacation, it’s easy to leap out of bed at 5 a.m., fueled by excitement and anticipation.

Having a routine keeps us grounded, but we also need experiences that nudge us into the discomfort of the unknown. Excitement, positive anticipation, and unpredictability are key ingredients of a joyful life. So, back to the travel example: how can we stop ourselves from energetically slipping back into the mundane after a powerful experience?

1. Connect with Your Experience Energetically

When you travel or encounter something extraordinary, do it intentionally and with present-moment awareness. Travel has become a form of performance for many, and it’s common to see people glued to their phones, missing what’s happening around them. Truly being present is the first step to forming a deeper, lasting energetic connection.

2. Create Anchors and Rituals

While immersed in your experience, establish small rituals or “anchors” to revisit that energy later. These can include telling yourself a meaningful story, taking photos of specific details, or simply walking through a space with mindful curiosity. These moments become energetic bookmarks you can return to at any time.

3. Craft a Story of Meaning

Visiting a place superficially won’t leave a lasting impact. But when you create a personal narrative around your journey and internal shifts, the experience becomes part of you. It transforms into something no one can take away.

Visiting Athens right before my birthday felt divinely timed. As a Gemini, I’ve often been labeled “two-sided” or “dual-natured.” Just before my trip, I heard something powerful: that Geminis are messengers between the seen and unseen, the physical and the spiritual.

In Athens, I truly felt aligned with my nature: head in the sky, speaking to the gods; feet on the ground, discovering the city. I was deeply present, taking in the smells, sounds, colors, and light. I allowed myself to be flooded with emotion, attuned to the city’s shifting vibes. Simultaneously, I sensed a higher presence and the city’s energetic history.

It felt as though I were in two places at once, not in time or space, but in energy. The energy of an ancient empire and the energy of a modern Mediterranean metropolis. We don’t need time machines if we can tap into a place’s energy. I imagine this is how more advanced civilizations might have felt about us, seeing beyond the physical into the energetic realm.

Ultimately, forming a lasting energetic connection to a place depends on your ability to be fully present and emotionally open. In a world constantly pulling our attention outward, becoming the energy we seek is a radical act of rebellion and self-preservation.

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑