From software to the energy field

This was the year I started admitting to myself that I wasn't happy with the life I had built.

I barely recognized myself in almost any part of my life anymore, and burnout finally made me start paying attention to myself.

It was the beginning of an awakening.

After spending a long time trying to "fix myself" on my own, and realizing it wasn't working, I finally accepted professional support.

I learned not just how much it matters to have that kind of support, but something that had always been hard for me: how to ask for help, and how to actually receive it.

Therapy was putting me face to face with my own story — and with emotions that, at the time, felt like they were spilling over.

My therapist could see I needed some extra support for the anxiety I was dealing with, and suggested I try a few Integrative Practices as a complementary form of care.

That's how I found my way to Acupuncture and Bach Flower Remedies.

I was enchanted.

At the time, I was just looking for a little more support to get through what I was going through. I had no idea that recommendation would open a door that, a few years later, would also change the course of my career.

I made the career move in tech I'd dreamed about for years — the dream job, the dream company. I thought that would be my happy ending.

It wasn't.

Getting what I had wanted so badly didn't resolve what still needed to be looked at inside me. If anything, it was the opposite — I was only at the beginning of a much deeper process of transformation and healing.

That's when I sought out even more support in Integrative Practices — not just as a client, but as a learner too, taking different courses to understand and take better care of myself.

At the time, I still imagined I'd stay in technology for many more years. Maybe, in about 20 years, I'd make another transition and become an acupuncturist.

This was the year of an important discovery about myself: I learned that my brain worked differently.

That discovery also changed the way I saw some of my own traits and perceptions, and it felt like the right moment to start developing my intuition further — a personal choice, as part of learning to trust myself and my own way of perceiving the world.

That's when I threw myself even more into Integrative Practices.

In October, I discovered Dowsing — and fell in love with it.

I immersed myself in learning and practice. For the next several months, I dedicated more than two hours a day to it, practising both for myself and with other people while I was still taking the course.

What had started as another tool in my own journey quickly became a significant part of my life.

For the first time, I was also beginning to discover that something I had sought out to help myself could become a way of supporting someone else.

What surprised me most was how familiar it felt. Even though I was just beginning, there were moments when I felt more confident in what I was doing than I had managed to feel after many years in other fields. It delighted me — and unsettled me, too.

By the beginning of the year, I had been deeply immersed in Dowsing for several months. In February, though, I reached a point that made it clear I needed to turn much of that attention back toward myself.

For most of that year, my practice became quieter and more personal — Dowsing and radionic charts mostly as part of my own self-care, with occasional sessions for a few other people.

I was still rebuilding myself, far from feeling like someone who had everything figured out. And yet, the experiences I'd already had with other people showed me I didn't need everything resolved inside me to offer someone else something real.

It was also during 2024 that I had my first contact with Reiki — without continuing the practice at the time.

At the same time, little by little, I was finding a new way of being in technology, and I was promoted too: my career kept moving forward, even while I was still rebuilding parts of myself.

Reiki stayed there, an experience I'd had without knowing it would come back into my story a few years later.

This was a year of processing and integrating everything that had changed up to that point — of noticing how much more my life felt like mine, and how much I had learned to stand on my own two feet.

It was also my most productive year in technology.

I felt good, confident, and much more capable of handling the everyday challenges of my routine. At the time, I genuinely believed that, by keeping my chakras aligned and energy care part of my life, I could keep going comfortably in technology for another 20 years.

It was a year of deep reconnection with the will to live fully.

I had no idea that this same feeling of being whole would completely change my plans the following year.

I really did start 2026 believing it could be my best year yet in technology.

And I really believed I'd finally found a healthy way to stay in that career.

But it was after coming back from vacation that a new feeling became impossible to ignore: the more I was able to hear myself and feel comfortable in my own skin, the more I realized I simply didn't want that job anymore.

I had changed. I still tried to push through for a while — I'd done that so many times before — until I couldn't hide it from myself anymore. It was clear that wasn't my place anymore.

When I decided to leave, I already knew I wanted to make more room for energy work, and I had a thousand plans for that transition. I had a wonderful farewell — but the next chapter didn't start the way I'd imagined.

I needed a few months of stepping back and rebuilding. That was when I realized the price my mind, body, and heart had paid over many years of not always letting myself be who I was — insisting on fitting into a place that, deep down, I'd always known wasn't mine. Little by little, I recovered.

I began offering sessions to some people close to me. And it was through those sessions, the exchanges, and the feedback that a new form of Energy Alignment began to take shape. And for the first time, I felt what it meant to truly belong — in a way I'd never experienced before.