I’m sitting on the sofa, sipping red wine, candle lit, and laughing a little at myself.
Financially, this year was probably one of the most fragile I’ve lived in a long time. And yet — somehow — it was one of the richest.
I welcomed the year with a New Year’s Eve dinner in a luxurious Indian restaurant in Vilamoura. I spent two nights in a five‑star wellness hotel in the Algarve, escaping rainy days. I flew to Morocco for almost two weeks to join a surf competition, supported by my community. I visited Valencia and Paris for the first time — briefly, lightly, paying almost nothing yet feeling deeply nourished. I made a road trip to the south of France when my bank balance looked painfully small, and it became one of the greatest adventures of my life.
Looking back, it feels almost absurd. Not because it was easy — but because fear and scarcity didn’t get the final word.
Choosing Presence Over Control
That road trip to France happened over my birthday. It closed a chapter of surf competitions with a realization that landed deep in my body: I surf best when I do it for the pure joy of surfing. When I’m present. Whether I catch a wave or not.
It was also the first time I allowed myself to be “irresponsible” — to step away during high season, without a safety net. Two days after returning, I was already flying again, this time to meet university friends for a van adventure in the Austrian mountains. We agreed on one thing only: we would do it on a budget.
From there, life kept opening doors.
I visited the Czech Republic for a few days. A friend helped me buy a cheap flight home. Another opened her house so I didn’t have to pay for accommodation. A couple I once taught surfing hosted me in Prague for my last night — a gift I never expected.
I began to see a pattern: whenever I stopped forcing outcomes, something would arrive.
The Warrior Still Lives Here
I joined surf competitions even though I barely surfed this year. I didn’t have money for regular training or frequent trips to the west coast. I was out of shape. In Morocco, the conditions were challenging and I was sick. I questioned whether I should even enter the water.
But I did.
And I was reminded of the inner warrior in me — the one who shows up even when conditions aren’t perfect.
I also saw clearly what happens when my attention leaves myself. In one heat, I missed a wave that could have taken me to the quarterfinals because I slipped into seeking approval instead of staying rooted inside. It was painful — and precise teaching.
New Ways of Living in the Body
This year wasn’t only about movement through places — it was about movement inside.
I began practicing Qigong. I experienced moments of real freedom in my body through trauma release. I somehow became a cross‑country skiing coach for three wonderful girls — despite knowing almost nothing about it — and they loved it.
I’m learning to say no without guilt. To receive without guilt. To set boundaries. And most importantly: to give my attention back to myself instead of constantly scanning the emotional weather of everyone around me.
That alone changed everything.
I also found joy in simple, creative things: DIY scented waters, smudges, home‑cooked meals. Creating for the sake of creating.
Learning to Receive
If I had to name one of the core themes of this year, it would be this: learning how to receive.
To be hosted. To be helped. To accept support without trying to repay it immediately with effort, money, or usefulness.
For a long time, I gave no value to my presence alone. That has shifted. Slowly. Gently.
This year broke many old conditionings. Breakthroughs came through facing my deepest fears — especially the fear of choosing myself.
I chose myself over financial stability that a relationship was offering at the time. It felt like breaking a family karma. Once the decision was made, I felt lighter than I had in years.
Success That Can’t Be Measured
I’ve kept a journal for many years, starting a new one every January. When I looked back at the goals I wrote at the beginning of this year, something surprised me.
For the first time, they weren’t about achievements. They were about who I wanted to be and how I wanted to live.
And for the first time, I can honestly say: I accomplished all of them.
I also went deeper into questions of meaning through ceremonies — ayahuasca, wachuma, singing circles, women’s circles. Each one peeled away another layer of illusion.
What Looked Like Failure
From the outside, some things might look like failures.
I felt called to open my own surf school. I met bureaucracy, obstacles, and long pauses. I hosted retreats and workshops that never happened. Plans dissolved.
But none of it was wasted.
I learned how much I was still trying to control life — and how much more alive things feel when I enter the flow instead.
Where I Am Now
I’m finding my voice. Facing fears I once avoided. Understanding how every life experience gave me tools exactly when I needed them.
I’ve integrated a deeper understanding of what love actually is — and what it is not.
I’m moving from pushing everything through effort into allowing life to carry me.
I still don’t know how everything will turn around. I don’t have a detailed plan. I don’t even have much certainty.
But I know this: I’m supported. I’m not walking alone.
And if someone had told me years ago that this is what life might look like if I chose the less‑walked path — left safety, followed my heart again — would I have chosen differently?
No.
It’s probably better we don’t know how the path unfolds. We would be far too anxious.
Tonight, I’m simply here. On the sofa. With wine, crisps, my own company — and a quiet trust that anything can change in any moment.
And yet, there is something I want to name honestly — without drama, without fear.
Right now, I’m here on the sofa. Candles lit. Healing music playing. Crisps on the table. Enjoying my own company.
My bank account has a little over 200€ left. I’m a week behind on rent. I have no clear mental plan for how to turn this around — I’ve tried many, and none of them worked.
And still… I don’t feel stressed.
I feel present. I feel safe in this moment. I understand what brought me here and why this integration matters. It feels like a lesson in finally stepping out of survival mode and learning to move from alignment instead.
I wouldn’t change a thing. I don’t regret my choices. They are teaching me more than any sense of security ever did.
Maybe the last step is to fully lean into the flow and let life show me the way — completely.
I believe, with my whole heart, in what I’m doing. That belief gives me hope that the right support will arrive at the right moment.
Today, I felt it clearly. I asked for support quietly in an Instagram story — and shortly after, my neighbour knocked on my door with a plate full of sweets, wishing me a happy new year. My heart sang.
I know there are many people who feel that the way we were taught to live leads to quiet unfulfillment. What if there is another way?
I choose the new.
And if I need to walk the path first, I will.
You can watch me, doubt me, support me, or join me.
And that feels like enough.