Deimante’s journey

29 July ‘25 - 9pm

One year ago…
This time last year, I was 2,700 miles away from London, walking along the beach under the full Buck Moon. Couples were holding hands, friends were laughing in the sea, and I was alone on the southern coast of Gran Canaria, following the waves and breathing in the warm Atlantic air. I had no job. I was living off my emergency savings. I wasn’t on holiday, I was running. Searching. Unravelling. Disconnecting from the world I knew, hoping I would finally reconnect with myself.

The descent…
It wasn’t burnout. It wasn’t just depression, as I had been told so many times before. It was something deeper. Darker. A collapse into a place so low that the only way out was in. Four days into that trip, after sitting by the pool, hiding in my hotel room, and walking miles along the shore, something inside me shifted. A quiet clarity returned. A steadiness. A breath of my own truth.

The voice within…
I’ve walked that road before. More times than I can count. Every spiral downward has taken me somewhere deeper. And each time, when I hit bottom, I eventually find a soft, subtle voice inside. Not the critical one. Not the loud one. The other one. The one that speaks with warmth, with softness, with love. That voice doesn’t live in my mind. It lives in my soul. And when I let myself hear it, I remember who I am.

Coming home…
Home isn’t a place. It’s the space I hold for myself when everything else falls apart. It’s in the quiet. It’s in the breath. It’s in the remembering. I have survived people, systems, and silences that tried to destroy me. And somehow, every time, I rise.

These days, my mind no longer controls my nervous system the way it used to. I don’t suffocate under the weight of my thoughts. I listen to my body. I honour my heart. I follow my soul’s whispers. I am not trying to be someone else anymore. I’m not bending myself to be accepted, loved, or understood. I am simply being. And that is enough.

If you’re reading this…
If your heart feels heavy. If your mind feels like a battlefield. If you’ve been called difficult, sensitive, complicated, or intense, you’re not broken. You’re remembering. You are coming home.

With Love & Light,

Deimante