Personal Reflections on Belief, Intuition, and Healing

I am 41 years old.

And perhaps for the first time in my life, I am living days in which I can say, “I am living exactly as I should.”

Every morning I wake up and look at my plan for the day. What awaits me excites me. Some days are filled with sessions, some days with seminars I listen to. Some days I dedicate to planning: creating new content, defining small steps that will take me closer to bigger dreams. Gently organizing my life in flow, without disrupting it.

And sometimes there are spaces. I pause. I pick up a book that calls me and read. I write. I walk. I wander. I simply move through the day.

Being able to arrive here sometimes feels like a miracle. To create this life, I went through many challenging phases. Financial difficulties; family-related growing pains that almost everyone experiences; physical illnesses and the tests they brought. Loneliness. The pain of loving someone and not being able to be together. The structure of corporate life that felt limiting to me; judgments, criticism, the feeling of not receiving what I deserved, the pull of the victim role. I could talk about all of these at length.

But none of these were the greatest challenge of my life.

The greatest challenge was about faith.

I am not talking about religion or symbols here. I am speaking about the relationship between believing in myself and others believing in my way of being, in how I perceive and experience the world.

In recent weeks, some feedback I received from my clients deeply moved me. They spoke about the compassion that opened in their hearts, the courage that came from remembering themselves, the softness and holding quality of my voice. They shared how an insight that emerged during a coaching session felt liberating, or how recognizing a stuck emotion in a family constellation field brought relief. Some said that my presence as a representative in a constellation felt like “a big heart.”

Hearing these words fills my eyes with tears.

One part of me feels grateful and senses that I am on the right path.

Another part is careful not to fall into the illusion of personal achievement or ego. Because I know that I am only a channel. What unfolds in sessions is a reflection of something larger, in service of a greater purpose.

As I said, getting here was not easy.

Following energy, staying in the heart space, holding a compassionate and non-judgmental presence has always felt natural to me. But explaining this naturalness to others—let alone being visible—was not possible for a long time. Even I could not fully understand what was happening inside me or what an intuitive flow really meant. From childhood onward, sharing what I felt was challenging both for me and for those close to me.

I sensed information about people, situations, and places as if I had already experienced them. I had vivid dreams. I felt other people’s emotions or even physical discomforts in my own body. During middle and high school, there were times when I felt intensely “different.” As if there was a side of me that others feared. Like the dark hero of a fantasy story. Silence felt safer. And the way to remain silent was to weaken my connection with myself.

Being part of an established system, following rules, serving the turning of the wheels felt safer. My close environment perceived the world primarily through a mental, evidence-based lens, grounded in what modern science can measure and make visible. I do not think this perspective was wrong. On the contrary, it was consistent within their own understanding of safety.

My intuitive experiences, however, did not easily translate into this language. They could not be explained or proven. Because of this, people worried about me; I went to therapy. I thought that everyone around me could not be wrong, so I questioned myself for a long time. Belonging—to a group, to corporate life, to a social circle—seemed to require doubting myself and becoming estranged from my own inner truth.

Perhaps the most destructive part was exactly this: doubting oneself.

When a person does not believe in themselves, it becomes difficult to believe in love, goodness, success, change—or even in another person. Feeling joy and taking pleasure in life becomes almost impossible. Doubt is largely a mental process. Belief, on the other hand, engages the heart. It allows us to act from the heart, to approach with compassion, and to truly love ourselves and others from an authentic place.

Over the past decade, I have spent my time getting to know and accept myself, learning to trust others and to show up as I am, listening to those who say “your heart eye is open,” in other words, learning to believe in myself. Today, at 41, I feel more clearly that I am not a part of a single institution or group, but a part of the whole. This brings me a sense of balance, joy, and love.

There are still people who approach my experiences with doubt and worry about me. I may not be able to explain how intuition works or present proof that everyone can see.

But if there is healing within me and within my clients; if positive transformation is visible in everyday life—why should the way we label the method matter so much? Isn’t the ultimate purpose of modern science to heal people and improve the quality of life?

If it is possible to heal the heart alongside medical treatment, to transform how one sees themselves, to soften the relationship one has with the world…

Then let everything not be visible.

Why resist believing and experiencing so strongly?