My Journey

I've just set off on a trip that will last a few days. Officially, it's called a "self development camp in the mountains." Unofficially — and this is the most important part — it will be a journey inward, into myself.

Because the truth is, before I even packed my suitcase, someone had already knocked on my door. Guilt. And right behind it — loneliness.

Why?

Because I left my three children. Note: in very safe and trusted places! And yet the question keeps rattling around in my head: am I condemning my kids to a holiday far away from their mom? And who is really suffering the most here? Probably just me.

Let's look at the facts:

Vicky (13) is at her grandma's in Poland, together with her cousins — my brother's kids. They're going wild on their bikes, and grandma is spoiling them with delicious Polish food.

David (17) is in Italy, at a university summer camp with his peers. He's getting a taste of student life and finding out whether law is the right choice for him.

Anna (5) is playing with her cousins at her other grandma's in Albania. We will all meet together with my husband and kids in few days. There is absolutely no reason to feel guilty. And yet I do. I feel lonely, and I feel like I've abandoned my children.

Sound familiar?

Where this road began

My wanderings toward myself started about four years ago — with the famous fortieth birthday. Something clicked back then. I felt it was time to change the way I lived and to understand why, for most of my life, I hadn't felt happy.

I've been on this journey of self-awareness for a while now. I have countless hours of podcasts behind me, plus books, films, camps, and in-person development workshops. And I can feel how much it moves me. I feel myself growing — as a person, as a mom, and as a woman who is conscious of who she is.

(If you'd like recommendations — let me know in the comments!)

But one question keeps coming back to me: Why is it so hard to let go? To move forward and focus on what matters to YOU?!

The big day

Today, another inner journey begins. And on the very first day, the most important question appeared:

How do I stay open while still protecting my own boundaries?

Because these few days of transformation — small or large — are exactly that: a quiet, consistent act of caring for myself and setting boundaries. Finally, my precious goal is not just taking care of everyone else: their wellbeing, their comfort, their emotions and needs.

Imagine that: my boundary. My Joanna. So that I can finally take care of myself.

May she be happy.

Wish me luck — and I'll be glad to tell you all about it.

Warmly,

Joanna