“Originally I’m from The Netherlands. I got bored and tired of the organized and safe landscape. I tried several jobs that looked good on paper. The more I tried to fit into the 9 to 5 world — the unhappier and more stressed I became. I felt myself “melting away” and felt that there was something more to be discovered.

I started writing, developed a career as a day trader, and realized who I truly am. Independent from the environment where I grew up, I began to feel free. Freedom became the most important thing for me.

Now, I’m on a path to inspire the world to live with inner freedom, independent of our circumstances.”

“I was nearing age forty when I realized I couldn’t walk without serious pain. Couldn’t stand or sit or cook, either.

I’d let myself go, my entire life: the things I loved to do, my health, my relationships. Everything was crumbling.

Until that moment, I’d built a fairly cushy identity as a branded Catholic spirituality writer. Meaning: if you go to a Catholic parish and talk to the pastor or someone who’s very involved in ministry, chances are they’ve heard my name.

I became the expert on the spirituality of grief, which I wrote about and traveled to speak to groups about for almost ten years. But the day I noticed I couldn’t function without pain in my limbs, I decided to walk away. From all of it.

This came about gradually, though. Three years before, I was questioning why my creative work had come to a halt. Publishers were no longer wanting my manuscripts, calling my writing style “too heavy,” a clear criticism. The freelance work was dwindling, too, since COVID hit and struck the niche markets pretty hard. Many of the places I wrote for folded overnight; the ones that remained said to me they could no longer pay their contributors.

I had taken long walks before the day I couldn’t even stand without stabbing pain. When I did, I’d ask, “Why are these doors closing for me?” And the response I heard inside my heart was this: “You’re playing it too safe.”

My pain became a signal for me to change my life, to change course. It was my body’s way of telling me it had been through enough, that the life I was managing was never going to move beyond survival.

But I knew I was meant to thrive. I knew I was meant for more. So I stepped away from all the contacts I’d made in Catholic publishing and media.

I deactivated all of my social media accounts, which I’d built up over the course of ten years (with a small following, nothing major). I stopped writing for the Catholic marketplace. And I took the first step toward writing what I call “the book of my heart:” my first memoir.

I knew memoir was a hard sell. It’s a tough market, and I haven’t broken through it yet. But I’ve spent over a year writing and revising it.

Starting over has been a struggle, mostly an internal one, for me, because I can’t see evidence of this decision to switch gears.

I haven’t established contacts and networks with people in the larger publishing industry. No one knows who I am or what I do, and I wonder most days if what I write and how I write is even good enough to stand out. But there’s something inside me that says to press on. So I do.

I know I have to believe in my creative work and in myself before I try to write for a changing and fickle market.

Sometimes stepping away and looking within gives a person clarity and strength. And when I find myself doubting that something will break through, it seems there’s just one person who reaches out to tell me that an essay I wrote spoke directly to their life, that I put into words an experience they couldn’t articulate.

So: press on.”

“Almost 3 years ago to the month, I decided to give myself a title I’d never dared to embrace – artist. 

Although I hadn’t done a painting since my time in elementary school I was determined to try my hand at the craft.

Rather than studying a bunch of techniques, I went to work creating pieces. This inevitably led to a lot of mistakes but it also made it more difficult for my fears and doubts to prevent me from beginning. By the end of the year, I had created 30+ pieces and fallen in love with art. 

I eventually watched videos on different approaches and artists but not before exploring the craft for myself.

I’m thankful I took this experimental approach to learning because it’s the same one that’s made my short journey into found poetry and public writing so fun.

If there’s a lesson to be gleaned from my experience, I’d say it’s to start where you are and worry about the rest once you’ve begun.”

“Being the youngest of two, I learned early on that staying quiet meant my older sister would handle things for me.

I didn’t start speaking until she went to school, and when my mom asked why, I said I didn’t need to because my sister did all the talking.

As I got older, I continued to be passive, riding shotgun in my own life. I closely observed my sister’s choices and simply adopted them.

Whether it was her university program, her government job, or her relationship status, I followed suit, checking off all the boxes she created. She was driven, intelligent, and my best friend, so I trusted her choices enough to adopt them as my own.

She’s still my best friend, but what I didn’t realize was that I was living in her shadow, following her trail without truly asking myself if this was what I wanted.

I was complacent, driving a vehicle not of my choosing, heading to a destination without direction, living life on autopilot.

Covid had us all locked indoors, so my vehicle had nowhere to go. I was forced to slow down and start looking inward for answers to questions I had long ignored.

Deep down, I knew I had taken some wrong turns, but instead of recalibrating, I just kept going, hoping to find my way back home.

Unfortunately, wishful thinking doesn’t get us far. If we don’t know where we are or where we’re going, how can we ever reach our destination?

Covid shutdowns gave me the time and space to do the deep work I had been avoiding since I was a toddler.

Today, I am proud to say that I reversed many of the decisions I made in my younger years, be it relationships, friendships, education, or career choices.

I discovered that if you have the curiosity to find out who you really are and the courage to make new choices aligned with your true self, you will eventually lead yourself back to your own doorstep.

The path was hard and tiring, filled with uncertainty, chaos, pain, and significant adversity, but the reward was worth it. No more pain, regret, or wondering who I was or what could have been.

We are the authors of our lives, and we reserve the right to change our story no matter how many pages we’ve already written or characters we’ve created.

If we are still breathing, it’s never too late to begin. We just need to give ourselves permission to turn the page and start again.”

“They were skeptical when I said I’d leave my 9-5 job to find true happiness. Now, I’m living my dream life, waking up each day excited and free.

Imagine the joy of discovering your true path, the joy that lights up your mornings. There’s nothing like the feeling of finally living authentically.

It happened to me after quitting everything I knew, and I’ve embraced a life of freedom and creativity that I never thought possible.

My story starts with working a 9-5 job, forcing myself out of bed every morning. I followed the conventional path: completing my studies, working, having a stable income, and a place to live. But I wasn’t happy.

Something inside me always longed for more. I ignored it until I couldn’t anymore and quit everything—my job, my home, and even my friends.

That’s when I met someone special who showed me to stop searching on the outside and look within. I began an intense healing journey, facing old patterns and fears that had shaped my life.

I worked hard, and, looking back, I am really proud. I stopped running and finally found a home within.

Over the past year, I’ve grown in ways I could never have imagined if I had stayed in my old, comfortable surroundings.

I wake up excited for my day ahead and for letting my creativity flow. My dream came true when I completed my yoga teacher training in India. I am travelling with my partner and working on my dream life daily.

I have never felt so free and content.

I am building a community for people who are on similar paths where we can share our journeys, support each other, and express ourselves freely.

Never give up or make yourself small.

Follow your inner instinct; it will guide you in the right direction.

Don’t fit into common moulds; listen to your own voice.

You will find the strength to take scary steps—they are so worth it!

Dream big, believe in yourself, and let life surprise you. You have the ability to shape the reality you want to live in.”

“I felt like I was on autopilot, sort of like a walking zombie just trying to survive and deliver.

I was living a good-looking life. I had a flat in the centre of Stockholm and I was travelling for work. I had weekend trips and dinners at restaurants, but it didn’t end up being so soul-nourishing for me at the end.

So what actually changed my life for good was a leave of absence that I decided to do. I took a leave of absence for six months to travel solo in Central and South America. I studied Spanish and learned surfing.

I think that trip gave me the headspace to really reflect on my life, get to know myself better, and kind of come up with some realisations about how I want to live and how I want to feel. You know, how I want to feel in my life, in this precious life that we never know when it’s going to be over.

So I didn’t want to just grind, and grind, and grind until I retire, and then I can live. No, I want to build my life in a way that I love it and I don’t want to retire from it.

That was a big shift and then a very clear realisation that I want to prioritise my well-being and my personal and spiritual growth. Those have been very clear priorities for me ever since.”

“So much comes to mind. Family, self-care, connection, authenticity, simplicity, integrity, compassion, gratitude… but what I feel matters most is slowing down in life and noticing the little things.

It is the gateway or portal to everything else that matters. “Being present” or “in the Now” tend to be overused phrases yet they point to the same; slow down. Rediscover the senses, all of them.

As a child, I was naturally curious and filled with awe, always off exploring in the woods, fields, and lakeside. I saw life as a magical kingdom.

‘Growing up’, entering corporate life, long commutes, and societal conditioning disconnected me from what was most important. I didn’t realize it at the time. Stress, anxiety, and occasional panic attacks gradually started making appearances.

When stress induced more allergies, I started making my own natural bath and laundry soaps. Without much thought, I quit the IT field and created an herbal and natural products business.

I started letting intuition guide me again. This opened the door to energy healing and the “knowing” or proof of how interconnected life is.

Slowing down allowed me to follow my heart and notice the synchronicities.

Today I turn 63, it will be a slow day of reflection and noticing the beauty and magic all around.”

“Not many people will believe you if you tell them that you have a fear of succeeding.

I spent most of my teenage years fearing the limelight. It’s never a good feeling to know that you have what it takes, but the world might tear you apart the moment you are ‘seen’.

Unwind (my newsletter on Substack) changed this notion for me. For the first time in my life, I took the plunge to share my words with the world and it completely changed how I think about getting noticed. 

I always had someone tell me that I did not deserve the things I had achieved, but I was only wasting my precious time and energy in proving to them that I did.

My newsletter is now read by a generous number of readers, but beyond that, this journey has made me believe that my presence matters. My voice matters.

I am now on a path to let go of the fear that my name (and my words) might pop up on the screens of more and more people on Substack and see this as an opportunity to keep showing up with the courage to do my bit in spreading positivity in this world which can sometimes be a little negative.

Never let anybody make you believe you are not enough because you are. There are a million reasons for you to not show up. You only need to find one that allows you to.”

“This question takes me back to a very vivid memory that I often revisit as an adult.

A very confident and explorative four-year-old Ben was navigating a forest with my grandparents and siblings.

For reasons I cannot remember, I took it upon myself to slip away from my grandparents and find my own path. Looking back, it was undoubtedly an alarming moment for my family but a deeply formative experience for me.

After hours, they finally found me sitting atop a tree stump, merrily singing to myself.

I remember sitting between the trees, gazing up in awe at the vibrant colours, textures and sounds around me. I belonged here, adding to the sounds of the forest with my singing. I was happy. I needed nothing more.

I would say to my younger self, who deep down always knew this, to never let the ability to enjoy our biggest playground slip away.

Nature has a magical way of freeing our inner child, reminding our adult selves of the world that we have grown used to.

For me, that has been the biggest lesson growing up. Jobs, friendship circles, and relationships all change, but the connection with nature remains a consistent source of joy.”

“I was 27 years old when I experienced what my doctor later called a ‘cardiac incident.’

Two days later, I handed in my notice at the restaurant I managed and embarked on a career as a professional guitarist.

I didn’t want to die wondering if I ever could have made a go of it with what my parents called ‘That music thing of yours.’

With my wife’s blessing, I crafted a new path with one promise, ‘I’ll only keep doing this as long as I make enough tonight to afford to do it again tomorrow.’

I kept that promise for twenty-five years, even while we raised our sons, a blueberry patch, and more than a few eyebrows on our small farm in southwest Virginia.

Now, I’m repeating my promise as I develop an encore career as a coach, community leader, and writer.

You can’t win a game you don’t want to play. Our lives speak to us because they want to speak through us. Let your life speak. Play your game.”

“One experience that changed my life forever was my first serious Artist’s Date.

It was November 1993. I was 27 years old and heartbroken. It was one of those opportunities that changed your life.

He was a renowned Venezuelan musician. I was eclipsed by his experience, his knowledge, and everything I learned from him.

We had planned a trip to New York, but the relationship didn’t last long enough for us to make it there together, so I went on my own. I had to prove to myself that I could do it.

It was the first time I had ever travelled alone. Previously, I had only travelled with my parents or friends, but never by myself. I had earned some money that year, so I decided to spend it all to discover what New York was about. My parents were sad that I wasn’t going to spend the holidays with them, but I could also sense they were proud of me.

Initially, I had planned to stay for two weeks. I visited all the museums—The Metropolitan, MoMA, the Guggenheim, the Museum of Natural History—and many art galleries.

At night, I would go to see great musicians perform. I even had the chance to meet and talk with Astrud Gilberto for an entire night! I spent New Year’s Eve with friends in Times Square and vowed never to do it again—it was too cold! Little did I know that for the rest of my life, I would be freezing on New Year’s Eve living in Canada.

I had an open plane ticket, and two weeks turned into 45 days because that was the maximum my ticket allowed. When I returned to Venezuela, everything felt different.

In hindsight, I know that wasn’t true. I was the one who had changed.

Three years later, I moved to Canada to study music at McGill University in Montreal.

Now, almost 30 years later, I feel like a hybrid between a Venezuelan and a Canadian.

I am a citizen of many places, with no hometown of my own.

Whenever I go back to Venezuela, I feel like a foreigner. Here in Canada, I also feel like a foreigner…

And it all started with a broken heart.”

“My motto is simple: Live Loud.

To me, that means stepping outside the box, being my true, authentic self, and constantly exploring new things.

Photography is my first love, and how I truly embody this mindset.

With a camera in hand, I feel alive and free, especially when I’m capturing the raw beauty of real life.

My lens often focuses on social issues, bringing attention to challenges faced by women, animals, and those perceived as different.

Through photography, I’ve forged deep connections, shed tears, and shared laughter in moments that leave me both heartbroken and inspired.

But I also crave boldness and creativity — shooting edgy, black-and-white images that showcase cool models, the chaos of street life, or the richness of foreign cultures.

My passion lies in evoking emotion, sparking thought, and provoking conversations through my art.

Photography isn’t just what I do; it’s how I live loud.

Loving what you do is living.”

“I’m a business coach that never had any interest in business or money!

I believe that business should be a force for good in our world.

Having worked with hundreds of driven but sensitive and caring business owners and solopreneurs, what matters to me most are two things:

To run my business in accordance with my values; being of service, creating connection, tackling social justice, prioritising rest and mental health, and having fun!

To help those in business dissolve shame around making money and being wealthy.

These things matter because I can’t just talk the talk, I need to walk the walk too!

Money is not the problem, it’s part of a wider systemic issue.

What matters is how we make money, and what we use it for — the responsibilities we have to ourselves, our families/loved ones, our community, and environment.

This is what it means to me to live well.“

“The strong wind was blowing through my hair, and waves were crashing into the cliffs. The green grass and wildflowers were following the wind. The sun was shining, and I felt an immense wave of gratitude overwhelming me. I felt whole again. And I hadn’t felt this whole again in a very long time.

It was such a powerful feeling. Tears pricked in my eyes, and I had to breathe deeply in and out. I felt butterflies in my stomach, my heart pumping, and a connection with my body that seemed lost.

It was 2018, and I was in Ireland on a solo trip. I had quit the job I hated, a job that pushed me into a depression. Today, I’m grateful for that miserable job. It made me a stronger woman and led me to where I am today.

Whenever I feel like losing connection with myself, I think of that moment. I close my eyes and imagine myself standing atop a giant cliff along the Wild Atlantic Way in Ireland.

It’s a memory that is not fading. This memory pops up when I think of ‘happiness’. It tells me the power of nature, the power of healing, and the power of putting yourself first. It reminds me how far I’ve come and how strong I am.”

“In 2012, at age 39, after a lifetime of hedonistic city living, doing jobs I hated to pay for it all, I was having a mental and physical health breakdown.

So, my husband and I moved from London to Exmoor National Park where, for the first time in my life, I spent lots of time in nature.

I started noticing patterns. The structure of tree limbs resembled the veins and arteries in my body. As did the crevices, valleys and streams running down cliffs, and rivers cutting through the land. And the fronds of ferns, the veins in leaves, the patterns forming on the ice on the windows during the coldest, snowiest, wildest winters I’d ever experienced.

I started to realise that everything was connected, that repetition was everywhere around me and within me, and that nothing seemed to be random.

This realisation set me off on a journey of spiritual and scientific discovery, which is ongoing and changed my entire way of thinking and being.

A year later my husband and I gave notice on our rental home and got rid of pretty much everything we owned.

Since then, we’ve backpacked in Europe, Asia, Africa and Australia, house sat, done work for accommodation exchanges in the UK and Ireland, and lived completely outside the mainstream world of jobs and houses.

There have of course been some difficult times but, even so, I’ve never been happier or healthier!”

“At 22, I had a plan. A serious plan. Being a combination of a notorious overachiever and driven by the urge for independence, I opted for professional training instead of going to University and completed it successfully.

Now, I would be starting as the youngest software consultant the company I had just been hired for had ever seen. So, my plan looked as follows:

Step 1: Start consulting

Step 2: Get an undergraduate (Bachelor) tech degree through weekend studies

Step 3: Meet my future husband

Step 4: Marry my future husband

Step 5: Move into a house

Step 6: Get pregnant with twins (efficiency)

Step 7: Get a tech graduate (Master) degree while on maternity leave

—> All to be accomplished within the next 8 years. So much time until my 30s!

And then? Well, all “ToDos” sorted.

I didn’t think beyond.

I mastered steps 1-4 (all while working sometimes more than 60-hour weeks with extensive business travel), got married when I turned 29, followed by some attempts at steps 5 and 6.

You might notice we are falling a bit behind schedule here. However, I learned that any project timeline can go a bit overboard.

Highly skilled in avoidance scheming, naive overachieving might have turned into hyper-functionality long ago. By this point, things inevitably started falling apart, and no therapy, no self-help book, no new exercise and mindfulness routine, no diet, and no medical doctor could get my body, mind, and soul “back to the state where I was when I had laid out and started working on the plan.

Skipping two years ahead and into the middle of the pandemic, I packed the car, kissed my husband goodbye (not at all prepared for 1.5 years of a long-distance relationship in parallel to novice-level battlefield skills for inner demons) and moved to Sweden—a lot of things felt so off. Except for a feeling of raw curiosity. The only thing I wanted to do if anything was possible.

I started a master’s degree in Marine Science.

Now add another 3 years (we have reached tier 34 of life “experience” now), a successful master’s degree, having spent 5 months living close to the North Pole, conducting research in the Arctic Ocean, and zillions of inner and external combats. And here we are. We plan to pack up our life in Germany and move to Denmark. I have just accepted a PhD position to become a fully trained marine scientist working with marine mammals.

Something little me has been dreaming about since age 4. Why? I don’t know. Why do children—and grown-ups—feel genuinely curious about something? I am on a mission to find out.”

“The exact moment when the thrill of shopping faded into disgust is still a mystery, but I distinctly remember the shame that suffocated me as I stood in the women’s plus-size section.

The numbers on the tags seemed like a foreign language now, no longer a reliable guide to what would fit.

I glanced at each rack, occasionally lifting an article of clothing to examine if I thought it would fit. Without fail, every time I thought, “Surely it will fit,” only to later realize that I had egregiously misjudged the size of my body.

I spent the next 30 minutes in a dressing room sweating profusely under the harsh fluorescent lights, which now emphasized every unflattering bulge that I had so carefully avoided observing in the mirror at home.

Determined that I could fit into the pants I had chosen, I stepped into them. The fabric was unyielding, hugging my legs with a vice-like grip. When they reached my hips, the real challenge began.

I squirmed and sucked in every stomach roll that I could. The sensation was both familiar and uncomfortable, a mix of hope and desperation driving me. My fingers strained as they grasped the button.

With one final, forceful tug, I managed to fasten the button, but the relief was short-lived. The waistband dug painfully into my skin, creating an uncomfortable pressure around my midsection. I exhaled slowly, feeling a wave of dizziness as I released my breath. The pants were on and buttoned, but I could barely move or breathe.

With a resigned sigh, I unbuttoned the pants, feeling an immediate release of pressure. I took a deep breath, savouring the freedom to expand my lungs fully again. As I peeled the pants off my skin, frustration and disappointment washed over me. Then came a stark realization…

Wanting to make the pants fit seemed like sheer stupidity, but worse was that I had normalized it. I had been forcing things to “fit” my entire life. I contorted myself to match expectations that were never truly mine.

Each attempt to make things work left me feeling restricted and disconnected, clinging to roles and routines that were not aligned with who I was becoming. Then I forced it all to stay in place, barely hanging on by a thread.

The thought of peeling off each layer that was no longer suited for me seemed impossible and felt too daunting to face. But I couldn’t breathe. The time had come to release my grip. I was tired of forcing the button to hold.

I peeled the pants off my body that day, and 90 pounds followed. I shed the weight, and my career was no longer a trophy symbol. I resigned from my job, and one more title followed—”wife” was the hardest to release. I sold everything I owned only to face myself in a different mirror 7,000 miles away.

Breathing was still difficult at times, but at least it was possible.

May we all have the courage to shed the layers that no longer suit us.”