What didn’t kill me made me funny, that’s for sure.

Unfortunately, humor doesn’t make the sadness, grief, and disappointments disappear.

And so I became the saddest happy girl.

I smile, and I carry so much grief that it has become my shadow.
I smile, and I have lost people, love, and myself many times.
I smile, and I carry traumas that have made me a different person.
I smile, and I think: “I don’t know if I’ll ever be fully fulfilled.”

I smile because if I let all of these things define me as a person, I would be dead by now.

Even though I would love to be this bubbly, joyful, and light-hearted girl, deep down, I know I will never fully be her.

And lately, I’ve started discovering that there is strength in that.

It’s these experiences and the perspective they’ve given me that might help someone else. They are the reason I see the world and people the way I do.

They create the reality I live in — the only one I would ever choose, because it’s uniquely mine, and I love the life I get to experience within it.

They have given me a deep understanding of people, and they’ve allowed me to notice things in others that many people might overlook.

This is what allows me to create connections that are genuine, deep, and based on something much more meaningful than superficial things.

So maybe I’m not that sad after all.

You could say I’m picky, and I am.
You could also say I’m not lucky enough, which might be true as well.

The truth is, I believe in energy. I believe in looking into someone’s eyes and seeing something you can’t put a name to. Maybe the thing I need to see is myself. Or maybe it’s the spark that only some people have. Or maybe it’s the chemistry that goes beyond physical attraction. Whatever it is, it’s hard to find.

But when it’s there, I can see it from the first look into their eyes. And usually, there’s no going back from that.

Suddenly, it turns out the conversation flows naturally, we have the same values, we laugh a lot, and we have similar taste in music (which is very important).

So the first date becomes a very natural outcome, but it’s probably also the last one.

The two dates I’ve had were both really good dates. And if I had to describe how they felt from my perspective while I was actually on them, I think they were a beautiful mix of uncertainty, excitement, and curiosity — not knowing what would happen, but being genuinely open, intrigued, and fully present in the moment.

But in retrospect, I see much more than that.

It’s a beautiful moment when two souls meet, without knowing why or how they were brought together.

It’s the moment when everything is still possible.

It’s possible that you might have just met your future husband.
It’s possible that your life after this date might change completely.
It’s possible that, a month from now, you could be on a plane flying to see them.
It’s possible that a new life is waiting for you somewhere.
It’s still possible that you’re going to fall in love right here, right now.

It’s also possible that your life will never be the same after meeting them.

But it’s also possible that the planets won’t align the way they need to for two people to choose each other.

And that’s when you get to the moment when nothing feels possible anymore.

And you know the exact moment when it happens.

When reality hits (usually for them), and they start talking about the distance, their last breakup, their lack of time. Or they simply have to leave the country.

That’s the moment when you realize you’re probably seeing the spark in their eyes for the last time in your life.

That the connection you had — the one you thought was bigger than yourself — is either ending or being interrupted.

It goes from 100 to 0 really quickly.

And it leaves you wondering if you were simply imagining it, if you were desperate, or if you were delusional.

Then you start talking to your friends about it and you hear things like, “Yeah, but it’s only a 2, 4, 6, or 9-hour flight.”

But deep down, you know you’ll probably never see them again.

And I might be stupid, but I highly doubt that these kinds of instant connections happen often. And I’m not very good at letting go.

So I sit in silence and wonder how long I’ll have to wait before I find it again.

I grieve each and every one of the possibilities I had when I was with them. I grieve all the questions I never asked and everything I’ll never find out about them, even though I would love to get to the bottom of this freaking spark.

I think about the time before the date, when I had no idea that they would teach me so much about myself (because they always do).

Once, I heard someone say: “Men usually don’t end up with the woman they liked the most. They end up with the woman who shows up when they are ready.”

I refused to believe it because why on earth would you let go of something that might have been the best thing in your life?

But now I do believe it’s true. Maybe I believe it because I have to. Because I need to find a way to make sense of these encounters in my own head.

They also say that people show up in your life at exactly the time you need them to, to teach you something.

For Christ’s sake… how much do I still need to learn?

So, one morning — the 12th of November, to be exact — I woke up with the feeling that my life was about to change. I even posted it on my stories, partly to prove I’m a witch, but also so I could look back later and see if I was right (duh). Honestly, though, I was genuinely curious.

To my surprise, a series of events began to unfold that became undeniable proof that a process had truly started within me (and around me).

Workshops on awakening femininity, where for the first time in my life I truly felt what it means to be feminine and inhabit my feminine energy. Illness — my body’s way of forcing me to slow down. A sudden, deep clarity around relationships, leading me to end one when it hit me — like a bolt from the blue — that it was harmful to me.

All of this left me feeling like a chrysalis, destined to become a butterfly, yet still trapped in its cocoon, unable to move even a single wing. Is it frustrating? Absolutely — especially when all you do is work, and you can’t just disappear into the woods and live through the transformation like a monk.

And yet… it’s exhilarating too. Like waiting at the airport for a guy you’ve been texting and idealizing for months in your head… I hope the outcome will be better for me than it would have been with that kind of guy… any kind of guy.

As Carrie said, I can’t help but wonder… who am I going to be? How is it going to feel? Am I on the edge of becoming the best version of myself? Am I finally becoming the person I’ve always dreamed of being?

With those questions comes fear, of course. Does it mean some relationships won’t last? Does it mean breaking free from the patterns, habits, and life I once felt comfortable with — because I knew it through and through? Just thinking about it gives me goosebumps, because as humans we are wired to cling to the familiar, avoid standing out, and ignore emotions that make us uncomfortable.

But despite all of that, I have to break free and feel all of this — even if it feels like death (and energetically, it really is). And you have to break free too. If you want to live an extraordinary life on your own terms, to reach your full — probably endless — potential, and to become the W O M A N you dream about.

Shrinking yourself simply won’t work anymore. Life’s too short for that.

Kiss