I will tell you a story… My story…
I grew up in a situation where some things that are taken for granted in life were difficult for me—to have and to express. And most, if not all, were matters of love and security. I lost the battle with them…
I am a girl who was raped before turning 15. Sexually and brutally.
A girl who, at the end of 1990, at the age of 15, was still fully adolescent, romantic, with a dose of childishness.
But I lost her. Within an hour, or two—I don’t even remember.
A secret that was deeply hidden inside me for 15 whole years. I kept this secret from my parents and siblings. Out of sheer, primal fear. And for other reasons that, at the time, I didn’t understand.
I lived with it, carried on with it—or rather, tried to survive along with it. I found myself right on that thin line between madness, suicide, addiction, and the choice to fight for my life. And I chose—with many tears and much pain—the second, the most difficult.
I chose love, hugs, sharing, trust…
I chose to search for them and to find them—inside and outside of me—as if they were a hidden treasure buried deep within the strangest labyrinth.
With immense struggle, pain, and fear—but also an insatiable longing for life—I locked this trauma in an iron box, tied it to my leg, and walked toward the road where the light was dim. I learned to run with it… Marathon after marathon.
A heavy burden that, over time, began to feel as light as cotton. Because I had grown used to it. Because, as much as I hated it, it was a part of me. But as soft as it seemed, it cut like a razor…
I did deep personal work on myself. I never knew I had this strength inside me.
And I wondered: Did this have to happen for me to discover my power so early?
Perhaps. Perhaps that power was meant to be awakened. So early…
I learned not to search for answers anymore. I learned to move forward. To heal parts of myself in every way. To listen more acutely to my guidance from above. To see the signs more clearly. To sense negative energies. To let go of resistance. To love deeply and fall in love. To taste, with my entire being, the joys of life. And to smile—wider, from the heart—showing all my teeth.
Maybe, after all, in some variation, the bad-good wolf was me.
They say the best healers are those who have endured the deepest pain.
I am honoured by the Universe for finally leading me onto the path of healing. Because in healing myself, I found my purpose: to help others heal.
You may ask me… Did it have to be this way?
No. Certainly not.
To my beloved women, and to the men who resonate with my story, I want to offer the most powerful truth I have learned:
“You are much stronger than you think.”
Don’t let any circumstance drive your mind to chaos—because it is the mind that tries to drive you crazy.
Ask for help. Learn to ask for help.
Ask for hugs. Stay close to your children. Make them feel safe.
And stay close to the people you love and who love you. With empathy.
And don’t stay silent anymore. Enough.
Know this: No matter what happens, you are not alone. You are not the only one.
No shame, but above all—no fear.
