Sometimes I think my life felt like walking through a fog. Everything was soft, blurred, as if separated from me by a thin layer of glass. Even my emotions bounced off this invisible barrier, returning to me only slowly. That's why I couldn't inhabit my body for so long. It, too, was a fog—a part of me, yet not mine.

Sometimes I wake up in the morning and, before I even open my eyes, I feel a quiet trembling within me. It's not fear, though I once confused it with anxiety. It's life, pulsing within me so clearly, as if reminding me: "You are here. You've walked your path. And you're still walking."

Sometimes, when the world is still asleep and the morning is just wiping my eyes, I breathe in the first, cool air of the day. In these moments, I feel that spiritual growth doesn't always come from great breakthroughs. More often, it's born from silence. From breathing. From noticing things so easily overlooked.I learn to find joy in simple moments—the smell of coffee, the softness of the morning light, the smile of someone who didn't even plan it. From the fact that I can feel, see, be. I used to search far and wide for meaning, but now I find it in the simple "here and now," as if suddenly the simplest thing has become the most sacred.I love with my whole being. No longer halfway, no longer cautiously. I allow myself to love people as they are—with their stories, hardships, beauty, and imperfections. I love life, even though it isn't always gracious. I love what happens to me, even if I don't immediately understand why. Because in both hardship and delight there is a lesson, and I want to accept it with openness. Sometimes someone tells me I'm a support for them. That my presence is like a calmer breath, like hands that can hold them when the whole world begins to shake. And although I once found it hard to believe, today I accept it with humility. Not because I'm perfect. Quite the opposite—because I know what it's like to struggle in silence. And perhaps that's why I can see in others what they don't see in themselves.I want to be a light, but not one that blinds. Rather, one that warms. I prefer to be an example, not through words, but through how I live—calmer, more mindful, more conscious. With a heart that's no longer afraid to feel too strongly. With a soul that knows that the path is more important than the pace.Spiritual growth hasn't made me superior to others. It has made me more myself. More delicate, yet stronger. Open, yet rooted. Attentive, but not self-absorbed. And when I look at the path I'm on, I know one thing: I want to continue on it. I want to discover, learn, love, and support. Because if I can bring peace, hope, and inspiration to someone, so be it. But above all, I want to be at peace with my own heart. Because it guides me most beautifully.

When I first heard that "you have to tame your shadows," I burst out laughing. It sounded like something from a self-help book you only read on the train when you've forgotten your books. And yet, those words kept coming back to me, especially in the evenings, when the light in my room grew so soft that everything looked like a hallucination beginning. That evening, when it started flickering, I couldn't escape anymore. I sat on the floor, rested my back against the closet, and felt something inside me crack—gently, like a thin shell. "Okay," I said. "Show yourselves." And they came. Not as monsters. If they were monsters, it would have been easier. They came as versions of myself, the ones I'd rather never remember. First, that little girl, standing in the corner of the kitchen, trying with all her might not to cry. Then the teenager, who had learned to mask her fear so well that no one had ever noticed how badly her hands were shaking. Finally, the grown-up me—the one who always manages because she has to.

This year has been a rollercoaster for me.I felt like life was sometimes pushing me forward at breakneck speed, and other times stopping me so abruptly that I was out of breath. Experiences crashed over me like waves—some gentle, others tumultuous—and I tried to stay afloat without losing myself along the way.There were moments full of laughter, spontaneity, and a sense that I could do anything. And right after them came those that forced me to stop, look deep within, and confront what I had been running away from for so long. I learned what it meant to be important to myself, to not settle for less, and to listen to my own voice, even when it trembled.Every difficulty left a mark on me.Some were painful reminders of what I had lost, others proved to be lessons I didn't want, but needed. Only over time did I begin to see that all this chaos was leading me somewhere further, deeper—to myself.And yet, at the end of this crazy year, something happened that gently touched my soul. I met someone who appeared unannounced, yet from the very first moment seemed familiar. Someone who calmed my heart in a way I hadn't experienced in a long time. Our conversations flowed naturally, as if we were continuing something that had begun much earlier, in another time, perhaps in another life. In his presence, I felt light, real, seen. As if some invisible thread connected our energies.Is it possible that souls truly recognize each other? That a soulmate exists?I don't know where all this is heading, but I feel a new chapter opening up before me. An old cycle has closed quietly, without regret. And I finally look to the future with hope—so soft, so bright,so full of promise.Maybe this is the beginning of something I will finally build from a place of strength, not fear. Maybe it's love, goodness, growth. Maybe it's the right one. Or maybe it's just... finally me, ready for a new start, for the true love I'venever experienced...

I don't want to be just a shadow in the background,Or a thought that flits through the day.I'm not a note on the reserve list,I don't want to be an option when you lack strength.I want to be a choice, that first impulse,That awakens hope and ignites dreams.To be someone you choose again,When the world offers a million alternatives.I don't crave a glance over your shoulder,But a presence that sets the world in motion.I don't want to be a plan B, an emergency bridge,Only a dream that's already coming true.Because I'm worthy of being a decision,Not a fleeting thought, not a moment half-baked.Choose me with courage, without a shadow of a doubt,And I will give you more than you could ever want again.So if, when you look, you see thousands,And in your heart the pendulum still swings—Remember, I'm not an option for later.I want to be a choice.

In everyone's life, there are moments when we meet new people and make new connections. This is often accompanied by excitement, curiosity, and the hope of a deeper connection. Unfortunately, it also happens that instead of true commitment, we start to feel like we're just one of many options—someone who's left on the sidelines, just in case something "better" doesn't come along.This feeling of superficiality in relationships can be painful and frustrating. You wonder why someone doesn't want to commit, why they don't make you a priority. The answers vary—some people simply don't want to limit themselves, preferring to have open doors and many options. However, this puts you in a difficult position where you have to decide whether you want to continue being available "just in case."We often find ourselves justifying someone's behavior. We think, "Maybe they're busy," "Maybe they need time," "Maybe they're just afraid of commitment." We ask ourselves if it's worth continuing to deceive ourselves. Do you really want to be someone you only reach out to when no one else comes along? Don't you deserve something more – to be someone's choice, not a last resort?Being someone's fallback means constantly waiting for scraps of attention and commitment. It's being a "safe haven" to fall back on if other options fail. This kind of behavior in a relationship undermines your self-esteem and self-confidence. Each of us deserves to be treated with respect, as a priority, not a fallback.Sometimes it's necessary to find the courage to draw a line and say "enough." This isn't easy; it requires honesty with yourself and an understanding that your own needs are just as important as someone else's desires. Deciding to withdraw from a relationship where you're only an option is an act of self-care. It's worth giving yourself a chance to meet people who will choose you, not keep you "just in case."Don't allow someone to treat you superficially just because they might have other options. Your feelings, commitment, and time are valuable. You deserve to be someone's choice, not a fallback. Having the courage to walk away from those who don't appreciate you is the first step to a happier, more fulfilling life. Remember – it's better to be alone than to forever wait for someone else's decisions.

I sit on the edge of the bed, entangled with my own thoughts. The words that were floating in the air moments ago taste in my mouth like unripe fruit—tart, unpleasant, leaving a strange aftertaste. I know how they sounded: sharp, decisive, with a certainty I don't feel within myself. Somewhere beneath them vibrates a silent plea—choose me, include me, see me. But out loud, I can only argue, prove, argue.I'm not naturally argumentative. At least that's how I think of myself. Maybe sometimes I fight too hard for my reasons, but that's because deep down I'm afraid my desires will disappear if I don't voice them. I'd like my needs to be obvious, to be visible without having to say them out loud. But the world doesn't work that way, and I can't yet say it directly: "I need you, be with me."Every conflict I find myself in is like a battle between two forces. On the one hand, there's the fear of rejection, on the other, the longing for closeness. I often hear my own voice, as if from afar: "I want to be heard. I want you to understand me." But I say it convolutedly, hiding behind convoluted arguments, recalling examples from the past, raising my voice as if louder meant stronger.I'm silent now, and I feel myself delving deeply into my own feelings. Was I really concerned about who was right? Or did I want to hear that I was important, that my opinion mattered, that someone noticed my emotions? Beneath the words, beneath the fragile shell of anger, lies a cry: "Notice me. Accept me as I am. Accept my weaknesses, fears, insecurities."Everything that sounds like conflict is actually a plea for connection. Sometimes I think that if I could just admit this, the world around me would change colors. Maybe next time I'll try. Instead of explaining, arguing, convincing, I'll simply ask: "Stay. Understand. Be with me." And maybe then I'll hear the answer I'm waiting for—not in words, but in presence. And that will be enough.

At the beginning of the relationship, there's a feeling that someone special has arrived – a man who seems to be the embodiment of dreams. Everything is intense, full of passion and commitment. Every encounter brings delight and a sense of being the center of attention. He's thoughtful, caring, a good listener, surprising with small gestures, professes love, and makes promises of a future together. The whole thing unfolds like a scenario straight out of a romance, where everything seems perfect, to the point of unreality.

Love bombing is a concept that has gained popularity in recent years in the context of interpersonal relationships, especially romantic ones. It refers to a specific form of emotional manipulation that involves showering another person with excessive attention, affection, compliments, or gifts, with the intention of quickly building a bond and gaining control over them. While initially, such intense feelings may be perceived as positive and exciting, in reality, it often conceals a desire to exert power over one's partner.

Reflection on Life: On Freedom of Choice

When I enter a room, I immediately feel whether the atmosphere is sincere, whether someone is pulling on a mask. It's not some supernatural ability, more like an instinct developed over years. My body reacts faster than my brain. My shoulders tense slightly, my hand searches for my pocket, my breathing becomes shallow. It's a sign: there's a lie here, someone playing a role that's not theirs.I can forgive someone's chaos. Everyone gets lost sometimes. Mistakes? I make them every day to learn something. Anger? Anger is human, sometimes necessary like a storm on a hot day. But pretending… I can't stand it. When someone puts on someone else's coat, speaks in a different voice, laughs with a laugh that's not their own – my body raises alarms before I even recognize the words.I value authenticity more than the elegance of words and the perfection of gestures. I prefer the truth, even if it hurts. At least then I know where I stand. Perfection, which carries a lie, is like glass under my feet—it glitters, but every step can hurt.

Let no one confuse silence with indifference. I repeated this phrase to myself like a mantra, sitting among people who couldn't understand my reticence. To them, silence was an emptiness, a lack of emotion, perhaps even a sign of coldness. For me, it was something entirely different. Silence was my refuge, an enclave of peace in a world where too many words crashed against the walls of my thoughts like a merciless hailstorm.

Quietly, at night, when the world momentarily pauses, images appear – incoherent, sometimes recurring, woven from everyday life and our own experiences. Dreams flow with a silent river of emotions, sometimes fears, sometimes longings, which during the day are carefully hidden beneath a veneer of reason. The same motifs often recur – a labyrinth with no exit, endless stairs, falling leaves, or voices whose content cannot be fully heard. In these repetitive dreams, symbolism intertwines with everyday life, becoming a shadow that follows every step.

There are moments when, despite our sincere intentions, immense courage, and open hearts, everything around us seems to work against us. Each step feels like a battle against an invisible enemy, against a fate that refuses to yield to our efforts. Even a positive attitude, energy, and willingness to take risks are not enough to break down the invisible wall that looms before us.

A Year of TransformationThis year was a time of real challenges for me. I felt like I was sailing through a stormy sea, battling successive storms that tested my endurance and determination. Life offered no shortage of lessons, and each day could bring a new test—some subtle, sometimes brutal.Several people from my past unexpectedly reappeared in my life. Their return was a reminder that some matters still needed closure, and lessons still needed to be worked through. There were situations in which I had to face my own weaknesses and fears to truly understand what it meant to let go of what I no longer had to carry.Over time, I learned to trust life—to surrender to what it brings, rather than control every detail. I allowed myself to go with the flow, with the spirit of flow, which isn't always easy in our current reality. This was a valuable lesson in flexibility, humility, and openness to the surprises of fate. However, I'm still learning to set boundaries – that incredibly difficult art of saying "no" without guilt and building my self-worth not on the opinions of others, but on who I truly am. It's a process that requires daily mindfulness and the courage to be myself in a world that often expects something different.I know I haven't fully realized my potential yet. I feel like there's still that symbolic "11 percent" waiting for me in my life, those extra minutes I could devote to fighting for my dreams. My play, though translated into English, is still waiting for its premiere. I lacked not only determination but also people who would support me and believe in me as strongly as I want to believe in myself.I constantly feel uncomfortable speaking English. Writing and speaking are two different worlds for me – in one I feel comfortable, in the other I still feel like an unwelcome guest. It's a challenge I struggle with every day, trying to find my voice in a foreign language.I haven't yet found the strength to change my job, which is increasingly draining me. Every day is a battle against my own body and fatigue, and the dream of a different daily life remains, for now, only a distant goal.

Thoughts on Gratitude, Forgiveness, and GrowthThe Path to Your Best SelfToday I pause for a moment to carefully consider everything I have and experience. I allow myself to feel complete gratitude for every single thing, even the smallest, that appears in my daily life. For the warmth of the morning light, for the sound of conversations, for the small gestures that often escape notice. I remind myself that life is made up of millions of moments, each of which—even the quietest—is meaningful.Gratitude also extends to the people who cross my path. Sometimes they are a source of joy, sometimes—lessons that hurt and leave a mark. Even then, I want to give thanks, because every encounter, every relationship carries the potential for transformation. Misunderstanding, pain, disappointment—and for that, I can be grateful, because through them, I learn something new about myself.Today, I say to myself and to the world: Thank you. I'm sorry. I forgive. I love.Thank you for every opportunity, for every smile, for every stumble that allows me to grow. I apologize for the words I shouldn't have said; for the thoughts that sometimes distance me from peace. I forgive those who have hurt me – and myself for my own mistakes. I love what is and what is yet to come.I desire to grow. I feel it's worth it. I want to find my best self, not to meet other people's expectations, but to be at peace with myself. Growth is a process – sometimes difficult, sometimes full of doubt, but always worth the effort. I'm learning that it's not about being perfect, but about being real.Today, in this quiet moment, I choose gratitude. I choose a path toward myself – and toward those around me. These are small words, but they have enormous power to transform.

In the spotlight, the world seems more colorful, and each day brings a new story to tell. However, what for others is a dream, for me became a cage full of loud rumors, constant expectations, and the pressure to constantly play a designated role. When the lights dim and the headlines fade, silence remains—sometimes painful, sometimes longed for, like salvation.The desire to escape emerged slowly, like a quiet wave rising on the horizon. The decision to leave the familiar world wasn't easy. I was held by memories, people, and places that had co-created my past. However, a deep sense of loss and a longing for authenticity pushed me into the unknown.In a new country, I became one of many—nameless, anonymous, free from the labels that had clung to me over the years. I blended in, allowing myself the luxury of observing, listening, and breathing without the burden of expectations. Landscapes I didn't know and people whose stories were unknown to me became my mirror. It was in them that I began to find fragments of myself that had been lost in the rush and noise of years gone by.However, loneliness, though initially soothing, slowly transformed into a space full of questions and anxiety. Spur-of-the-moment choices, fueled by a desire for closeness, sometimes led me astray. Instead of solace, I encountered pain—not the noisy, spectacular kind, but a quiet, drawn-out pain, embedded deep in my heart. Dilemmas arose within the dark walls, and answers seemed even more distant.Only in retrospect can I look at those events with gentleness. Today, I understand that every emotion, even the painful ones, carried a lesson. Every person I encountered, even those who passed away, left a mark on me—a lesson about trust, loss, and the power of forgiveness. All of this contributed to my path back to myself. Now, when I reflect on the past, I no longer see only failures or momentary setbacks. I see a path that, though winding and difficult, led me to a place where I can calmly look in the mirror and say, "That was a lesson. That was a journey. And this is me—true, imperfect, but free."

Phoenix from the Ashes – On the Power of Female Renewal

A man asks a woman:"What kind of man are you looking for?"She was silent for a moment before she looked into his eyes and asked:"Do you really want to know?"He replied yes.She began to speak:"I'm at a stage where I don't ask a man for what I can't do for myself.I pay my own bills, I take care of my home without a man's help.Can I ask you what you can contribute to my life?"The man looks at her and wonders:"Maybe he's thinking about money."Knowing what he was thinking, she said:"I'm not talking about money; I need something more."I need a man who maintains balance in all areas of life.I'm looking for a man who strives to overcome his weaknesses. Someone I can talk to and who makes me better.I don't need someone who is simple and immature.I want someone I admire." I need someone sensitive enough to understand me- what I'm going through as a woman,- but strong enough to give me joy and not let me fall.- Someone who can hug me so tight that all my fears disappear. A man who will share my silence and understand my story. Someone who will help me heal and trust again.I'm looking for someone I can trust:- respect me as their partner and best friend.God created men and women in equal proportions to support each other.I can't help a man who can't help himself.I'm looking for a man with good feelings, because he'll know those same feelings by looking into my eyes.

The concept of aging, as society understands it, is one of humanity's greatest myths. From a young age, we are programmed to believe that with time, we inevitably face a decline in fitness—that old age inherently means a decline in physical and mental health.

I went running this afternoon. Just like always the same route. To the park and back. It was incredible that my entire path was strewn with white, gray-white, and black feathers like never before. Unbelievable!!! I smiled to myself and felt incredible angelic protection. I also felt that I was following a good path full of peace and love. I am incredibly grateful for this wonderful, even extraordinary care and support. It was a sign full of wonder and incredible things... because you can encounter bird feathers along the way, but not for a distance of 6 kilometers. Wherever my feet went, a feather appeared. Even though sad news is coming from Poland, I feel peace and mindfulness deep in my heart... I know we will all meet again, and Earth is just one of the stops. Let's just be kind to each other.

Life is incredibly fleeting — a fragile, precious gift that slips through our fingers faster than we often realize. Each day begins with the sunrise, and before we even notice, evening has arrived. Monday transforms into Friday in the blink of an eye. Months glide past us like whispers on the wind, and suddenly, a whole year is almost gone. We glance back and see decades have quietly slipped away — 40, 50, 60, even 70 or 80 years — leaving behind memories, lessons, and those we love but have lost along the way. Time flies relentlessly forward, and no matter how much we wish, we cannot rewind or reclaim a single moment.

Learn to recognize the difference between those who wrap you in beautiful promises and those who hold you tightly when your world feels like it’s collapsing. Some people love with grand words, weaving dreams that sound perfect but vanish when life gets hard. And then there are those who love with presence — the ones who stay when everything else falls apart, who offer silence instead of speeches, arms instead of explanations, and comfort instead of conditions. Because true love doesn’t just promise—it proves, especially when it’s hardest to.

One of the greatest forms of strength and confidence in today’s world is learning how to be lowkey.There’s something incredibly powerful about living in silence—when no one truly knows what’s happening in your life, where you are, who you’re spending your time with, or what you’re planning next. Unless you decide to share it, the details remain yours. That’s not secrecy out of fear—it’s intentional silence rooted in self-respect.

Learn to recognize the difference between those who wrap you in beautiful promises and those who hold you tightly when your world feels like it’s collapsing. Some people love with grand words, weaving dreams that sound perfect but vanish when life gets hard. And then there are those who love with presence — the ones who stay when everything else falls apart, who offer silence instead of speeches, arms instead of explanations, and comfort instead of conditions. Because true love doesn’t just promise—it proves, especially when it’s hardest to.

Time alone doesn’t heal everything.It simply creates space — a distance between us and the pain — but that distance doesn’t mean the pain disappears. True healing doesn’t come from waiting. It begins the moment we stop running from what hurts and start accepting what we cannot change.

Yesterday I listened to an extraordinary lecture. It brought me to the next level of understanding myself and the surrounding reality. Once again, I am also convinced that the LBL session of life between incarnations had and has a huge impact on my life and subsequent pieces of the puzzle are fitting into the whole picture. I have heard countless times that I should go in the so-called flow. In addition, I should not take life so seriously and let the river flow freely. When I allowed myself to let go, I see that much more good is happening in my life. The so-called flow also allows me to overcome subsequent days in peace of mind and inner balance. There is also more freedom, more joy, more childlike sensitivity and perceiving the world in more colorful colors. This does not mean that I do not have fears or more difficult moments. They appear but they are not as intense as before. I express greater consent to the flow and take care of high vibrations. Conversations with the mirror work great. When I feel a shadow and less important, less noticeable, I look deep into my eyes standing in front of the mirror and look for myself. This little girl inside me smiles at me and says that we will do it, because who if not US! And when I talk to myself like this, I see this depth and wisdom in my eyes and then suddenly regains my balance. It also helps a lot to say the words: what is meant to be yours will always find you. Let go of what does not serve you! All this works miracles. Sometimes small and sometimes big. The most important thing is that all these actions make me maintain balance and allow energy to flow freely through my body. Probably something different will work for everyone. I believe that each of us is an individual. Everyone also searches for their own path and makes their own choices. In reality, we are ALWAYS together and we are together in eternity. If we want to love, let's start with ourselves. No one will give us love if we are not filled with it ourselves. We are love Me, You! When I am love, others are love for me. I highly recommend Klaudia Pingot and Jarek Olewicz. It is thanks to them that I experience greater depth in finding myself. Monika Gucwa is a wonderful certified hypnotherapist from the Michael Newton Institute who conducts LBL sessions. Thanks to her, my life path has become brighter and I have found the meaning of life. You can find them all either on Facebook or Instagram.

Go and love someone—not for who you imagine they could be, but for exactly who they are in this very moment. Love them with no conditions, no attempts to fix or mold them into something else. Just love them, wholeheartedly, for their rawness, their flaws, their quiet strength, and their silent battles. And then, watch something extraordinary happen—watch how they begin to bloom. Watch how the weight they once carried starts to lift, how their eyes shine a little brighter, and how their spirit begins to unfold into the most honest, beautiful, and powerful version of themselves. Because when a soul feels truly seen, genuinely accepted, and deeply appreciated for its essence, it unlocks a kind of transformation that no amount of pressure or expectation ever could. That is the magic of love—it doesn't demand change, it inspires it.

The absence of a father is not just an empty chair at the table. It is the absence of a mirror in which a boy could look at himself and recognize: who am I as a man? What does strength mean? How to express anger without hurting? How to love without losing yourself? Without this reflection, he grows up in chaos, trying to build masculinity from fragments - overheard sentences, films, cultural whispers.Underneath all this, there is often fear, deep loneliness and a sense of being insufficient. This inner conviction that "something is wrong with me", that I do not deserve love, respect, recognition - and it is this that becomes the silent companion of every step in adulthood.Sometimes the father was physically present, but emotionally unavailable - silent, cold, withdrawn.It also happens that the father withdrew not because he did not want to love, but because he himself was hurt and weakened - especially when his partner was dominant, emotionally overwhelming, and sometimes even castrating his masculinity.In such dynamics, the man - the father - had no space to express himself as a man. Pushed into the role of a passive observer, he began to disappear. He was unable to stand by his son, because he himself felt powerless against the energy of his partner. Such a father often escaped into work, silence, resignation - until he became a shadow of himself.And although he was there, the boy did not really have him - he did not feel his strength, guidance, support. He only felt his absence and weakness, which he did not understand.Other times, the father became explosive, strict, punishing. Behind this roughness, however, his own inner shadow was often hidden - a man who had not experienced love and acceptance himself, who carried fear, shame and unexperienced pain. He was often brought up in an atmosphere of severity, lack of closeness, suppression of emotions. He had no access to his own feelings, because no one taught him how - and in the relationship with his family he was unable to be emotionally present, because he himself did not know how.  His withdrawal or aggression were not so much a choice as a defensive reaction of a man who had never experienced safe fatherhood or built contact with his own sensitivity. And it was this absence that hurt the most — the lack of a look, a touch, a confirmation. The lack of a father who says, "I'm proud of you. You can count on me."Such a boy grows up, but does not fully become a man. Inside him there is still a quiet, undervalued boy who has been silent for years because no one listened to his voice.He only wanted someone to really see him — without expectations, without conditions. For someone to say, "You are important. You can feel. You can be yourself." He longed not for perfection, but for acceptance — just as he is.And although his body has grown up, he is still there, hidden behind a mask of strength, indifference or success.In reality, he is still waiting for someone to say, "You don't have to prove anything anymore. You are enough."In adulthood, these wounds take on different forms.A man may have difficulty with a sense of self-worth, with action, with expressing himself.He may be overly sensitive to his partner's emotions, dependent on her acceptance, deprived of internal support.He may be afraid of conflict, rejection, be emotionally unstable or, on the contrary — distant, frozen.He may also experience difficulties in creating healthy relationships - on the one hand, he desires closeness, on the other, he does not trust it and runs away from it.You do not emerge from such a story without a trace. Such a boy - now an adult man - may have difficulty setting boundaries, feeling his "yes" and "no".He often falls into the trap of constantly proving his value - through work, appearance, acquisition. Or he runs away - he withdraws from relationships, emotions, life. Because no one has shown him that you can be yourself and be safe.Regaining masculine energy is a return to the center of yourself.

A new monodrama in progress...

(Lyrics Agnes Prokop, Music Lucas Nowicki)

PAIN is not a PUNISHMENT. Pain has its own huge task.To stop you in your tracks, in which you have lost yourself.It appears when you have strayed too far from what is true.When you have lived too long, ignoring your inner voice. When you have functioned in the mode of fulfilling expectations — other people's, not your own. When you pretended that it doesn't hurt. That you don't need it. That everything will somehow work out.Pain doesn't come by accident. It has nothing to do with PUNISHMENT.It is a space for CHANGE.It is like a stop sign that can no longer be ignored.It whispers: "Look, here you still DON'T LOVE yourself. Here you still believe that you have to deserve love. Here you still carry someone else's definition of happiness. Here you betray yourself — still choosing what is incompatible with you, instead of what is true."Ripping pain is the ALARM of the soul. It indicates the places where your heart has been abandoned. It shows where you are trying to be brave but you are not yourself. Where you are still stretching to fit in—to be wanted, chosen…Pain is not your enemy. It is a messenger. It shows you how far you have strayed from your values ​​and needs. How long you have tried not to hear yourself.Healing begins when you stop pretending that everything is okay.When you start asking questions like, “Why am I abandoning myself?”, “Why am I settling for something that hurts me?”, “Why am I expecting someone outside to heal something that I cannot give myself?”We usually look outside for what we did not get as children—love, closeness, safety. And we enter into relationships that are supposed to fill it for us. But a partner is not a parent. They will not heal the wounds of your inner child.Sooner or later, the pain from childhood will surface—and if you do not stop to care for it, the hurtful patterns will repeat themselves.It is pain that shows us that it is time to return. Not to someone else. To yourself. To that small, lost part of you that was waiting for love, attention, gentleness. And only you can give it to it now.Healing begins when you stop looking "outside" —and start being with yourself. Every day. With tenderness, patience and presence.True healing is when you return to the version of yourself that no longer has to play, beg, deserve, fight.Pain does not destroy you. It WANTS to dissolve what has been destroying you for years.It reveals truths that you did not want to see. Beliefs that were never yours. Relationships that gave only fear. The voice in your head that kept saying, "I have to be someone else to deserve."True STRENGTH is not the absence of failures. It is the DECISION to return to yourself with greater tenderness each time.Pain has its purpose. To stop you, because your soul was crying, "Enough. I don't want to live like this anymore." If you are in the middle of a storm right now, it is not the end. It is the beginning.The beginning of a NEW YOU, a life built on honesty with yourself. On choosing yourself, not abandonment. On love that does not hurt, because it does not have to be forced.You are not alone. Every step towards yourself is healing.And the pain was meant to serve that purpose.Not to break you.To help you find yourself.

Surround yourself with everything that nurtures your peace, uplifts your joy, and reinforces your sense of belonging in this world. Let your home evolve into more than just a physical structure of walls and a roof — allow it to become your personal sanctuary, a sacred space where your heart feels understood, your mind finds clarity from the chaos, and your spirit is free to simply exist, unburdened and whole.

That’s what we keep telling ourselves.And maybe we do. But maybe we don’t.The truth is—we never really know.

When a man and a woman like and love each other. When they are sincerely in love and feel safe with each other. Then they turn into little children. A woman, no matter how strong on the outside and independent, wants to come home and feel like a little princess. If a man is tough and decisive and knows what he wants. He also wants to come home and feel like a little, mischievous boy. If you feel this way, it means that you can be yourself with the person you love and you don't have to pretend to be anyone. This is true sensitivity. You are not judged. You are not ashamed of your feelings and naturalness. A good relationship is a celebration!

Dearest Mommy, I would like you to know that you are special because you are my Mommy. I chose you. No one else but you. And I would like you to know that I love you from here to the House of Souls.

Her silence used to be full of tension.

Remain silent...when your words hold no kindness,when your voice could deepen a wound instead of healing one.Silence, in such moments, is not weakness—it is wisdom clothed in grace.

Every relationship will eventually feel "boring" after years together. This is the truth no one tells you. Relationships, no matter how electrifying they are in the beginning, inevitably shift as time goes on. The butterflies settle, the late-night conversations become familiar, and the excitement of novelty fades. But this doesn’t mean the love is gone—it means it’s evolving. Relationships are not meant to remain in the honeymoon phase forever. They’re designed to mature, deepen, and become something more profound. Yes, life can make it feel routine, but it’s within those ordinary moments that the most extraordinary kind of love can grow—the love that sees beauty in the everyday.

You're so beautiful when you break. When you finally stop pretending you have everything under control. You see... I know what happens in those moments when darkness falls.

A year ago, a person appeared in my life who brought difficult lessons to work through and was my mirror. A person who was and still is important to me. But that's not what I want to write about.

Too rarely do we appreciate ourselves for what we have endured silently. For the days we got up when we had no strength. For not turning off our light when the world went dark. Hug yourself today the way you would hug someone you truly love. With tenderness. With gratitude. And say, “I did it. I survived. And I am proud of myself.”

When the world is falling apart, your heart is aching, and everything seems to be going wrong, it is easy to fall into the trap of thinking that life is against you. But it is often the case that what seems like the end is actually the beginning. Only a new one, after a certain "reshuffling" of life.

So much sadness in my eyessuddenly appearedthe angel of death stood at the doorI thought it was just a bad dreamit would probably end suddenly

Meadows woven with lush greenkissed by the morning sunwhipped by rain

I love the feeling of freedom.