And so, real life began.

Inside of me, everything irreversibly changed. Like a Phoenix rising from the ashes.

With this precious, yet overwhelming experience, I returned home.

I was sure that everything had to change fundamentally.

Desperately, I wanted to explain to everybody what had happened for me: ground-breaking insights, deep life visions, and a brand-new definition of success: "to grow as a human being".

Most reactions from family and friends were: worries, headaches, and ambitions to help me back on the "right" track. Some feared I had gotten mentally ill or joined a cult.

It felt like everyone else's life had been on pause for 7 months.

I was aware of the change but not yet able to fully experience it. Yes, I felt reborn, but still, I carried my past with me. All of it.

So, I tried to reorchestrate my life to match my "new me": Quitting social media and friendships, getting rid of stuff I owned. A radical attempt to cut away the past from my life.

At the same time, I engaged in activities that resonated deeply with my new state of being: building a tiny house, training to be a teacher, and an outdoor guide.

This shift overwhelmed me to the extent that I needed help from outside: therapy, family constellation, reading for the pursuit of meaning, and workshops. At the time, it felt impossible to make peace with my past, forgive myself, and grow wings.

There was nobody I felt comfortable opening up to and sharing the true depth of my life-altering story.

Except for one person.

I had sent her a quick message, 2 days after receiving that invitation to Stanford.

"Happy birthday", I wrote intuitively on Facebook. We had met each other only on a handful of occasions, as we happened to share our mutual best friend.

Tested by time spent alone in New Zealand's wilderness, I was ready for something new. For somebody new. Unwrapping my true self with a partner on my side, spreading out our wings together.

Turned out, she was ready too.