Wild Within is a deeply personal journey—born from a broken heart.
It is a story of reclamation, of continuously choosing to find home within—a home I only discovered through my connection to nature.

The story began after yet another failed relationship. Despite being on a self-development journey for over 10–15 years, my efforts and good intentions weren’t paying off.

I had just started freediving, and in an attempt to cope with my grief, I felt intuitively drawn to the ocean and to being in nature. I spent as much time as I could hiking in the mountains with my dog or immersing myself in the sea. Something about it made my soul calm.

The more time I spent in the water, the more I realised the ocean was reflecting back to me the areas where I was stuck in life—my ability to surrender, to let go, to trust that I could be held, to slow down my restless mind, and to truly connect with my body.

I wish I could say I was a good student, but I wasn’t. I fought every step of the way. My old patterns of trying, pushing, and perfectionism didn’t align with the zen-like Instagram posts that filled my feed. But something in me couldn’t let it go. I caught glimpses of something—every time I entered the water, I felt I was starting to unlock something inside of me.

The colours, the marine life—it was unlike anything I had ever experienced. It felt spiritual. It shaped how I viewed the world. After each dive, I felt better—more grounded, more at peace, calmer. I became a better person. I wanted to be a custodian of this beautiful planet, to take care of it. I became more mindful of the products I used, the plastic I consumed, and, as a result, I found a sacred connection to myself.

A couple of years later, while training as a trauma-informed coach, I began to understand the science behind what I had intuitively felt and why diving was so integral to my healing.

I learned that humans are the product of hundreds of millions of years of evolution, and our physiology hasn’t had the chance to catch up with the rapid advancements in technology.

We are not wired to receive dopamine at the press of a button—and the consequences are clear: an alarming rise in mental health struggles, burnout, and a sense of isolation. We’ve lost touch with our natural way of being in the world—our need to move, to seek, to hunt, to belong.

Movement changes the very structure of our brains. Neuroplasticity shows us that movement isn’t just about staying fit—it is fundamental to our mental and emotional well-being.

For me, the ocean has been:
A place of healing.
A place of inspiration.
A place of friendship and belonging.

And my intention is to help others find the same.