Tag: stress-free

  • (Almost) White Christmas

    Yesterday, the air smelled like snow. You know that smell, the kind that sneaks up on you, taps you on the shoulder, and whispers, “Put your expectations down, but trust me anyway.” I didn’t get my hopes up. I never do. I just knew. And sure enough, it snowed. The first snow of the season here.

    Apparently, I don’t just travel with actual baggage; I bring weather systems. Missed the November snow in Bern, caught it back home in Bulgaria. Timing has never been my strongest skill, but when it hits, it hits.

    I’m reunited with my parents and our dogs for Christmas and New Year’s, sitting in my parents’ new handmade sunroom while snow falls politely outside. Courtesy of my father, who can build actual structures with his hands. Which explains… A lot. Apparently this is why I have a soft spot for men who can build things. Especially out of wood. Especially if they don’t need an instruction manual. I, too, have woodworking plans. Turns out it’s genetic. The blueprint was there all along.

    Now, let’s be honest. I’d choose Alpine cold over this humid, windy chaos any day. This is the kind of cold that seeps into your bones uninvited. And yet, yes, I’m still considering a swim in the Black Sea, despite it feeling like minus seven degrees outside. Limits? Never met her. My idea of fun doesn’t need refinement, just a matching level of insanity and other humans who hear “freezing water” and think, “Perfect.” Especially if that’s a mutually agreed first-date plan. 

    After Christmas dinner, and an ambitious amount of mulled wine at apéro, I slept for twelve uninterrupted hours. Twelve. A coma, really. A well-earned one after a week of sleep deprivation and questionable decisions.

    And then… the dreams.

    Three different men starred in them. One by one. Like a rotating cast. I feel dirty, in the best possible way. Real me is on a wholesome family holiday. Dream me, however, had a packed social calendar, dream dates. One was the regular. The recurring character. Always there, stopped complaining about it, there is no point. This time particularly committed to reminding me what I was allegedly missing out on. The other two were new. And new is always delightful. I was eventually pulled back to reality by our puppy launching himself into bed like a furry alarm clock with zero respect for narrative closure. 

    And somewhere between the snow, the wine, the dreams, and the dog hair, it hit me how far I’ve come since September. Back then, I was still mad at him. Actively. Professionally. Now? Life is too good to bother. Plus, I closed the loop. Finally. Turns out some things don’t need force, just timing. And a little snowfall for dramatic effect.

    I’m out. I’m free. Free to live and enjoy the absolute crap out of myself, like a graduate freshly released into the world, slightly unhinged, deeply grateful, and fully convinced that the best part might still be ahead.

    And honestly? I’ll take that kind of white Christmas any year. Light and fluffy. Good vibes, BBQ meats with a side of potato salad with homemade French Dressing. 

  • De-Virgoing: Learning to Flow Like the Aare

    on learning how to go with the flow

    Last year, I saw all the parts of myself that weren’t working. The parts that planned too much, controlled too tightly, and tried to bend life to a neatly written to-do list. I hated them. And honestly, I hated myself for them.

    I met someone who embodied all the qualities I wished I had. Not in a “he’s perfect, I’m broken” kind of way, more like a mirror showing me the rigidity I’d been living in. And slowly, I realized: my obsession with control, my relentless need to plan outcomes, was suffocating me. I’d find things to stress me out. I thought that was living. No, it was being on “survival mode.” 

    I saw how he put himself first, do things on his timing (if he could), and how he wouldn’t get too bothered about things, unless it was work related I guess. It was annoying at first. But the more I grew, the more I realized how beautiful and amazing that way of living was. I saw he didn’t create problems out of the blue by thinking himself into knots, which I had spent my early twenties doing.

    Later, the more the “person” disappeared, but the louder the “energy” got… I realized how magnetizing and attractive that energy was to me, because it was still reflecting something back to me; something I was always meant to embody. I wasn’t born to overthink, stress myself out… I hadn’t always been that way. There was something undeniably familiar about him, and it took me quite a bit to figure out what it finally was to close that chapter out for good.

    So I started to let go. Now stress has become something I offer solutions to, not something I create out of the blue. 

    Solo trips became my laboratory. I booked the dates based on my intuition, and then… nothing. No itineraries. No agendas. Just me, a city, and whatever the universe decided to throw my way. Each trip had a theme; sometimes healing, sometimes curiosity, sometimes surrender. I adapted. I flowed. I learned to trust that the world wouldn’t collapse if I didn’t micromanage every step. I learned to trust the flow.

    And slowly, I noticed something strange and wonderful. I felt relief. I felt light. My rigid, controlling self… died. And from that, a new me was born.

    I call it my “de-virgoing”; shedding the old armor, stepping into spontaneity, learning that life doesn’t need to be perfected to be lived beautifully. The to-do lists? Gone. The endless plans? Out the window. And in their place? Flow. Freedom. The joy of trusting my own instinct, my own pace, my own rhythm.

    Sometimes I wonder why it took me so long to realize that control was just a comfort blanket, and surrender… is the real luxury.

    “Take it easy, chill, life’s good, no stress, no need to hurry” became my motto. 

    Because if life is a river (and oh, the Aare has taught me this) you don’t swim against the current. You let yourself glide. You let yourself be carried. And sometimes, you leave your overthinking and worries in the current, letting them drift away. Mine probably floated all the way to the Rhine… and out into the North Sea by now.

    And suddenly, you’re not just surviving. You’re living.