The outside world saw a strong woman. Inside, I was navigating a storm.

There were days I felt like a deer in the headlights. Sadness, confusion, anger - all tangled up. I didn't want to feel like a victim, but I was grieving more than just a relationship. I was grieving an identity. A future I thought was mine.

And while my head tried to move forward, my body wasn’t ready. I was in the thick of menopause, riding waves of emotional and physical change that no one warns you about properly. I wasn’t just going through one transition - I was juggling three at once: woman, mother, partner.

I knew I needed help. So I opened myself up to support in ways I hadn’t before. Coaching, trauma therapy, systemic constellations, manual therapy, even psychedelics. I joined a 3-day anger workshop that cracked something wide open. I went solo camping in Sweden, fasting for four days, and finally faced the question I had been avoiding for decades:
Who am I when nobody is watching?
And slowly, gently, something shifted.
I discovered a calm centre inside me, an unchangeable core that had been there all along.
Not a version of myself shaped by titles or roles or responsibilities - but one forged in truth, grief, resilience, and desire.

I stopped asking for permission.
 I rewrote the story.
 I started again - from the inside out.

I reached for support—and found myself.