From Survival to Soul Purpose: My Journey Through Storms
For twenty years, I lived in a life that looked fine from the outside but felt like slow suffocation on the inside.
I had met my partner young, full of trust and big dreams. Over time, the charm gave way to control, the love to manipulation, the partnership to a silent war I could never win.
Narcissistic abuse doesn’t start with shouting — it starts with the quiet erosion of your self-worth, until you no longer recognise the person in the mirror. During those years, we moved countries more than once, living in places where I didn’t quite fit culturally and had no family support.
I learned how to navigate foreign systems, raise children without a safety net, and pretend everything was okay — because survival sometimes means wearing a mask. Then came the day everything else faded into the background: my 3 year old daughter’s brain tumour diagnosis.
The months that followed were a blur of hospital corridors, surgery rooms, sleepless nights, and the gnawing fear of losing her. That chapter tested me more than anything before it. But her resilience — her fight to heal — planted a seed in me.
If she could face that mountain, I could face mine.
The Breaking Point Abuse doesn’t end when you leave — but leaving is the first crack where light can come in. My turning point wasn’t dramatic. It was a quiet knowing: I can’t live like this anymore. I didn’t have a plan. I didn’t have savings. But I had my girls, a van, and the stubborn belief that we deserved better. I became a courier — not because it was my dream, but because it gave me the flexibility to be there for my children and keep a roof over our heads. I started from scratch: new home, new bills, no financial safety net.
The work was physically exhausting and the pay just enough to keep going. But with each parcel delivered, I was also delivering something else to myself: proof that I could stand on my own two feet. There were days I wanted to give up. Days the loneliness and exhaustion made me question every choice. But each time, something small — a laugh with my daughters, a sunrise on the way to work, a kind word from a stranger — reminded me I was still moving forward.
Finding My Way Home to Myself Healing isn’t linear. I had to untangle years of gaslighting, rebuild my confidence, and learn who I was outside of someone else’s shadow. Somewhere along the way, my long-buried intuition began to resurface. I started noticing patterns, synchronicities, and an inner knowing that guided me when logic had no answers. I dove into astrology, numerology, human design, and subconscious clearing — at first for my own healing, then for friends, and eventually for clients. What began as survival slowly transformed into service.
My pain became my compass, pointing me toward a new mission: to guide others through their own storms and help them find clarity, courage, and alignment. What I’ve Learned You can start over at any age, from any point — even if you think it’s “too late.” Strength isn’t built in the easy days — it’s forged in the moments you think you can’t go on, but do anyway. Healing is possible, but it’s not a straight line — and that’s okay. You are not what happened to you. You are who you choose to become next.
Today, I’m no longer just surviving — I’m living. My work as an Intuitive Soul Guide allows me to blend my lived experience with my spiritual gifts to help others reclaim their power and rewrite their own story. If you are reading this while standing in your own ashes, know this: the fire that burned your old life down can also light your way forward.
You are stronger than you think. And when you’re ready to rise, you won’t have to do it alone.
