My journey

Your inner child is still crying? Love yourself – unconditionally!

Your parents were mean? You’re not a victim; you’re a survivor!

The idiots around you? Learn to set boundaries and communicate!

And then there’s the constant message: You’re flawed here, and there too. You’re not good enough yet. Here, you were hurt; there, you have unresolved emotions. Always the focus on the negative – but don’t worry, we can fix that!

It works just like shampoo advertising: Split ends? Never again! Damaged hair? Look how broken it is! You almost feel insulted while you just wanted to buy shampoo.

Self-help books often use the same principle – ruthlessly pointing out where you’re still struggling, where you could be “optimized.” But why are we so conditioned to constantly want to improve ourselves?

Because we’re afraid we’re not lovable as we are.

Yet, when you finally reach the point of accepting yourself as lovable, you lose interest in these books. Just like happy people rarely need romantic movies or novels – they know it’s fiction and wouldn’t trade their reality for it.

Of course, it can be beautiful to dive into other worlds, especially in fantasy stories. But often, we do it to distract ourselves, to escape our own lives instead of actively changing them.

As a child, I just lived. I was in the moment, always on the go, doing whatever I wanted. I wasn’t “connected” to myself in a spiritual sense – but I was present.

I didn’t read because I preferred to have real adventures. Why passively consume stories when I could write my own?

Reading was a competition for me, something you earned points for – but I was never truly interested. I wanted to play outside, make friends, and explore the world.

Later, reading became a coping mechanism. Especially during school, when life got more exhausting, I escaped into books and series to avoid being in my own reality. Isn’t that kind of sad?

First, it was fantasy books, then romantic stories, and finally self-help books. Because that’s where I found my negative thoughts mirrored: “I am not loved,” “I am not enough.”

So I searched for solutions – analyzing, overthinking, questioning everything. Essentially, these books just teach you how to overthink.

I don’t want to demonize books – quite the opposite, a part of me would love to write them. Writing is a beautiful form of expression, but honestly, I enjoy talking even more.

And maybe that’s the point: Instead of just talking or analyzing, I should start experiencing more again.

Living in Cycles, Not Just Months

No more February dumps – let’s embrace cycle dumps. I’ve realized that my life doesn’t fit neatly into calendar months. It flows in cycles, shaped by my energy, moods, and experiences.

Here’s what fit into just 28 days:

New Beginnings and Creative Energy

This cycle kicked off with a long but totally worth-it trip to Salzburg. It wasn’t spontaneous – it was carefully planned, and I was excited to hold my master’s seminar presentation. It was also a beautiful opportunity to reconnect with my classmates, sharing experiences and perspectives that reminded me why I chose this path in the first place.

The following days were packed with four early shifts in a row. I threw myself into work, helping wherever I could and even stepping into the role of a content creator, filming for our team. It was a new experience, and honestly, I kind of loved it. In between, I tried to keep up with the Handball World Cup, though the early mornings made it hard to watch every match.

Life was all about balancing: work, sushi meetings, and squeezing in some workouts – because why not check all the boxes at once? One of the highlights was picking up a friend from work, going for long walks, and just recharging. Those moments helped me find calm in the chaos, especially after hours of writing my seminar paper. I’m proud to say I successfully submitted it – hell yes!

High Energy and Connection

With the shift to late shifts, I found myself getting picked up afterward. It’s funny how small things mean so much, but getting picked up in the dark is truly my love language – it makes me feel safe and cared for.

Amidst all this, I was also side hustling at my minijob, where I learned a lot about rhetoric and communication. It never ceases to amaze me how much there is to learn when you pay attention. At the same time, I was getting used to my new braces (yay me!). The first day was tough – getting braces and then working an 8-hour shift wasn’t the smartest idea. Eating was suddenly a challenge, and let’s just say snacking is off the table for a while. Hello, unplanned diet.

I was on a workout streak – either 0 times a week or 4 times, no in-between. I also found myself cheering on my friends at their handball games, feeling the team spirit and loving the energy. It was inspiring to see their dedication and passion, which made me reflect on my own journey.

Volunteering continued to bring so much laughter and joy into my life. It’s hard to explain the fulfillment that comes from giving back, but it’s real. And sometimes, it comes with perks – like lasagna as a reward or sweet tea gifts from the people I get to work with.

Reflection and Grounding

I spent hours listening to audiobooks on my way to sales training, grateful for my usual short commute to the gym. Evening walks became my therapy, a way to clear my mind and make sense of the chaos. This phase was all about embracing the writing process for my seminar paper – even when frustration levels were high. I had to remind myself to find joy in the process, not just the outcome.

I made a big decision: taking a break from playing handball. I’m calling it a “creative pause” because that sounds better than quitting. Who knows how long this break will last, but right now, it feels like the right thing to do.

Then came the urge to organize my life. I went through my phone contacts – 421 reduced to 108. It was oddly freeing, like letting go of old chapters to make space for new ones. I also got a new mobile contract, which felt like a major adulting win. Inspired by this wave of responsibility, I decided to quit my minijob to make more time for myself and my master’s thesis. It was a bold move, but I realized I needed the space to focus on my priorities. Also the idea and later on the decision that I will sell my motor bicycle - because I barely use it and I won´t drive it unless I could tell people I drove so they will think I am badass - so also here no more external validation.

Somewhere along the way, I felt the urge to get bunnies – because something fluffy and cute would be nice. But then my friend brought me back to reality with a hilarious reminder: “Yeah, mold is fluffy too, but no, I still don’t want mold as a pet.” Point taken.

The biggest realization of this cycle was that my worth isn’t determined by others. I don’t need to prove myself to anyone. No license or achievement will change who I am at my core. It hit me that so often, we seek acknowledgment from others, chasing validation like it’s the key to happiness. But maybe, just maybe, we should learn to acknowledge ourselves first – by simply deciding we are enough.

Rest and Reset

This cycle ended with three days of pure rest. I just lay in bed, watching snow fall outside. It felt like winter finally showed up, and honestly, it was the perfect excuse to slow down. I also tackled the mountain of clothes on my chair – the one that had been silently judging me for weeks. Cleaning my space felt like cleaning my mind, making room for new beginnings.

Crazy to Think This All Happened in Just 28 Days

Living in cycles feels more natural than fitting life into calendar months. Each phase has its own rhythm, its own lessons. I’m learning to honor these rhythms, to flow with them instead of fighting against them.

Here’s to living, loving, and growing in cycles. Let’s embrace the flow. 💫

I still believe that our choices, thoughts, and perspective on life determine our reality. The way we choose to see the world shapes how we experience it. If we decide to be fighters, if we commit to always finding a way to win, then we always have a choice—no matter the circumstances.

Taking responsibility for your life means recognizing the power you have over your own reality. It means choosing to focus on what you can control and taking positive action within that space. Even when others say, This is out of your control, you can respond, No, I still have a choice. Because your thoughts create your words, and your words shape your reality.

Nothing is truly out of reach. Everything you see around you which is created once began as a thought. So take responsibility for your thoughts, and your world will change.

This past year, I watched my mom fight for her life. She cleaned out everything—physically, mentally, emotionally. And in the process, so did I. So did my dad.

As a family, we changed. We took the chance to grow, even though it was a rough year. With her, we transformed. We built boundaries, we learned to take care of ourselves, even when we were at our limits. We looked out for each other. Now, we understand what truly matters in life. The obsession with work, the perfectionism—those things are stepping back. We’re getting happier, little by little, because we’re actively working on it. We train our minds, we use affirmations, we grow stronger every day.

My belief system has shifted completely. It went from We are the lucky ones, nothing bad happens to us to What the hell just happened? Is this world even safe? And now, it's transforming into something new.

When I look back on this year, I see how hard my mom fought. I see how hard I fought. I see my dad, how much we grew, how deeply we changed—not just as individuals, but as a family. It’s hard to put into words. It was the hardest year of our lives, but at the same time, it took us exactly where we needed to be. In a way, it made things right.

The change was so massive, so much work, so much pain—but I wouldn’t go back. As difficult as it was, it was necessary. And now, I see things differently.

Before, I thought we were just lucky. Now, I understand that pain is inevitable, but suffering is optional, like Buddha said. We are still lucky, but not because we’re untouched by hardship. We are lucky because we are strong enough to face whatever comes our way. We are survivors. We are fighters. And we will succeed.

We shaped our own reality. Our belief system was built on the idea that we were the lucky ones—that nothing bad ever happened to us. There was no serious illness, no death in our immediate family. And since our family isn’t that big, it just felt like bad things wouldn’t touch us. We were safe.

I took health—and everything, really—for granted. I believed we’d all live long lives, that my parents weren’t going anywhere anytime soon. The idea of them dying, especially suddenly, wasn’t even in my realm of possibility. But that diagnosis changed. It all shifted.

Suddenly, I had to balance two extreme realities. On one side, there was this overwhelming victim mode—my mom got sick, I had no control, and I couldn’t do anything about it. I was furious. Fuck you, universe. Why is this happening to us? Why are you doing this to me, to our family? This isn’t fair. We’re not safe anymore. What good could possibly come from this?

And yet, at the same time, I saw the opportunities. I somehow knew I had manifested this, and instead of focusing on the risk, I focused on the chances—the possibility of healing. I saw how this could be a way for my mom to cleanse herself, not just physically but mentally. A chance for her to let go of the past, to learn new behaviors, to reshape her life in a way that truly served her.

And so, I existed between these two mindsets—rage and belief, loss and transformation.

The thing is, in some way, I wished for everything that happened. And because of that, I think I still carry some guilt.

I wished for change. I wished to get to know myself better, to go on a journey of self-discovery, to improve my relationship with my parents. In one way or another, all of it manifested—it all came true. But now, I realize that part of me is blaming myself for it. And maybe what I really need to do is forgive myself.

The other part of this is that I feel like I’ve lost something—not just hope, but maybe a certain intensity of emotion. Right now, I feel too balanced. It’s difficult to be angry at the universe or even deeply sad because, from the very beginning, I only saw the opportunities. I didn’t let myself think about the risks because they terrified me—especially the risk of losing my mom. I always told myself, I’m too young to lose her.

So I stepped in. I became the motivator, the coach, guiding both her and my dad. I focused on positivity—I reframed everything. We didn’t say "chemotherapy"; we used different words. We didn’t say "hospital"; we found other ways to talk about it. I wanted to shape reality in a way that felt less daunting, less overwhelming.

The Person I am around her

The Person I could have become around her

DIED

I learned so much about myself

by being around a friend

But Friendships can end

so my version of being around this friend died with this friendship