My Journey of Alchemy
This is my personal experience learning alchemy - turning darkness into light - through the meanings of exploring the world and myself.
What started as a search for my own relief has become my greater purpose in helping women unlock their inner power. By sharing my authentic experiences, I hope to bring inspiration and faith that you can do the same, no matter where you are starting from.
My Beginning
I was a very shy and sensitive child, full of playful and innocent energy. I felt the emotions of others and my own very deeply. Even the smallest moments could move me to tears. For a long time, that sensitivity felt like magic and an excitement for life. But as I grew older, it began to feel heavier.
In early middle school, while many of my classmates started focusing on appearance and fitting in, I was still my goofy, childlike self. I didn’t quite fit in or understand the social rules that everyone else seemed to absorb naturally. I was bullied, referred to as the “goodie goodie,” and struggled to find where I belonged.
I cared deeply about what people thought of me. Slowly, the deep emotional capacity that once felt like a gift began to turn against me. I became insecure, isolated, and overly aware of myself.
It was a season in my life when I suffered from very dark inner turmoil. I didn’t trust anyone enough to open up or ask for help, so I stayed quiet and suffered in silence.
At school, I wore a mask, and at home, I struggled to express what I was feeling. I wanted validation from anyone or anything outside myself, hoping it would make me feel whole. My rejections sent me deeper into isolation and a black void. These intense emotions led me to have what I would describe as out-of-body experiences. I was curious about what it meant to be human. Late at night, I would fall into YouTube rabbit holes — watching videos about meditation, altered states of mind, and different religious philosophies.
At the time, it felt random. Looking back, it feels like foreshadowing. Even when I felt lost, there was a quiet curiosity inside me searching for something deeper.
Eventually, I began cognitive-behavioral therapy, which gave me tools to observe my thoughts rather than be consumed by them, ways to build healthier relationships, and a greater sense of grounding in daily life.
For the first time, I saw that change was possible, and my life improved drastically.
The Outer Journey
Wanting to help others who felt the way I once did, I pursued a bachelor’s degree in Clinical Psychology.
Over the years, I gained emotional intelligence and learned how complex and adaptable the human mind truly is. Despite becoming wiser, I couldn’t seem to destroy my old patterns, and I would often spiral back into my destructive way of being.
It made me ask the deeper question:
“If I understand the mind, why do I still feel as if nothing has changed sometimes?”
That question haunted me and led me to search for the answer towards permanent change. I wasn’t sure what needed to change, but I knew my environment did.
I leaned into my love for travel, cultures, and new perspectives — so I decided to study abroad since I was still attending university. I tried to convince others to join, but when no one wanted to commit, I knew I had to take the leap of faith alone. For the first time in my life, I chose myself. Boarding that plane felt like a quiet declaration to take my life into my own hands.
I lived in the United Kingdom, Thailand, and solo-traveled the surrounding areas for nearly ten months. Never in my life would I have imagined myself being brave enough to be completely alone on the other side of the world — yet there I was. It stretched me in every way possible.
This trip was far more than about posting photos on Instagram and seeing tourist attractions. I had to navigate unfamiliar cities, make friends from scratch, and sit with myself in ways I never had before. Traveling had its ups and downs, but I formed a new sense of confidence and independence with each challenge I overcame.
By taking the scary leap, I had awakened something powerful and opened new doors. I realized that I couldn’t continue to wait for anything or anyone to change my reality, as I once did. I stopped waiting for validation and expecting the world to shift before I did.
Like a flower slowly blooming, I began to reclaim the parts of myself I once thought were weaknesses — my sensitivity, my empathy, my depth. The traits that made me feel different became the traits that allowed me to connect with others across cultures.
Across Europe and Asia, I witnessed vastly different lifestyles and traditions. Yet underneath those differences, I sensed something shared — a quiet humanity that transcended language and geography. This is when I first started to gain a sense of the interconnectedness of all things.
That awareness stirred a new sense of spirituality within me that I wanted to explore more deeply. The timing was perfect since I then had the opportunity to expand my studies.
The Inner Journey
While abroad, I had the opportunity to study Eastern philosophy, mindfulness, and Buddhist teachings.
I spent time in the luscious jungles of Thailand practicing different meditation techniques with monks and learning how to tame the “monkey mind” — the restless, wandering nature of our thoughts. Meditation became less about fixing or escaping my mind and more about observing it.
Upon returning home, I didn’t feel like the same person, and I felt immense gratitude for who I had become. I brought back my passion for self-growth and my dedication to continue my meditation practice. Since going through the waves of life, my meditation practice has both lost and gained momentum at times. But my curiosity about consciousness has never faded.
I began exploring the intersection between psychology, spirituality, and even quantum physics — drawn to perspectives that bridge science and inner experience. I resonated with frameworks that suggested our perception shapes our reality, not because it sounded mystical, but because I had witnessed shifts in my own life when I changed the way I related to my thoughts.
Trying to learn more about these topics on my own was, honestly, quite draining. At times, exploring these topics felt isolating because not everyone around me shared the same interests. I learned to be selective about who I spoke to about them.
Wanting to connect with like-minded individuals, I began attending meditation retreats.
At one retreat, I experienced something that deeply shifted me. During meditation, it felt as though my sense of self died. As if I was observing my thoughts from a wider awareness rather than being defined by them.
It was beautiful and slightly terrifying. I opened my eyes just to make sure I was still there. I had always sensed there was more to life, but to physically feel it was my turning point.
That experience didn’t make me enlightened or erase my struggles. But it changed my relationship with my mind and how I view the world. It showed me that there is more within us than we often realize.
Participating in these retreats provided me with a community in which we were all able to learn and grow from one another.
The Present Moment
Through my own journey and through observing others on similar paths, I’ve noticed that many people begin looking inward because of pain. Hardship becomes the catalyst for a need to change.
For me, healing wasn’t about collecting more tools, books, or practices. It was about taking responsibility for my inner world. It was about softening the way I spoke to myself. It was about no longer defining myself by my past.
I think for the majority of people, finding inspiration can be hard when our environment is filled with quick dopamine fixes and distractions.
Over time, I realized I didn’t need to become someone new. I needed to return to who I had always been — the sensitive, loving, deeply feeling child who once saw magic everywhere. The difference now is that I no longer see that sensitivity as weakness.
Brave Backpacker was born from this ongoing transformation.
It isn’t about having everything figured out. It isn’t about perfection. It’s about choosing courage — whether that means boarding a plane alone or sitting quietly with your own thoughts.
Solo travel became one of my greatest teachers. It showed me that the outer journey often mirrors the inner one. When we navigate unfamiliar places externally, we begin navigating unfamiliar parts of ourselves internally.
My intention with Brave Backpacker is simple: to encourage women to trust themselves, explore independently, and reconnect with their own inner power — in whatever way feels authentic to them.
This journey is ongoing. I am still learning. Still unlearning. Still growing. But I am no longer afraid of the darkness I once tried to escape.
Because I’ve learned that even darkness can become light — when we’re willing to face it.