I’ve been meditating since I was six years old, woken gently before sunrise by my mother to sit in stillness, to breathe, to pray. Those early mornings shaped me, even though I didn’t realize it at the time.

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After 20 years in high-achieving, masculine-energy spaces - corporate leadership, deadlines, and constant doing. I found myself burned out.

 

My soul was whispering for something softer. So I took a break. I packed a suitcase and landed in Istanbul, a city I first fell in love with back in 2011.
I thought I’d stay for a few months, but the months became a rhythm, then a season, then something I wasn’t quite ready to leave.

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Those months broke me open. They also became my mirror.
         I learned that no one is responsible for healing me - except me.
         I learned that self-love is a ritual, not a reward.
         I learned that being soft isn’t weakness, it’s sacred.

 

I fell in love with myself again. Slowly. Gently. Through rituals that looked like buying myself flowers every Friday. Taking myself on solo coffee dates. Leaving little affirmations tucked into notebooks. I began to write again. To meditate with intention. To create stillness, not just chase it.

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That’s how the ZenZone was born - from my own rebirth.

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As I began loving myself more deeply, I found joy in the little things: journaling in hidden cafés, brewing ginger tea at golden hour, and moving my body with tenderness - through traditional yoga and playful hammock yoga that reconnected me with ease and presence.

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It was during this quiet reawakening that I followed a deeper calling. I became certified in Mindfulness Meditation and Journal Therapy Coaching - not to chase another title, but to gently guide others back home to themselves.

 

Healing, I’ve learned, isn’t about becoming someone new. It’s about remembering who you were before the world asked you to be anything else.