For years, I lived a life that looked successful on the outside but felt suffocating on the inside. I was building a high-pressure career in global banking and fintech—thriving in a male-dominated world, chasing deadlines, managing risk, and ticking all the “success” boxes.

Yet, beneath it all, I was battling something much deeper.

Despite the promotions and recognition, I felt an overwhelming sense of emptiness. I had built my identity around achievement and external validation, but inside, I was disconnected from who I really was.

Growing up in a culture that prized stability and respectability, I had learned early on to suppress discomfort and keep performing. Vulnerability was weakness; success was survival.

So, I did what I had always done—I pushed through. Buried my emotions. Kept achieving.

But the weight of that pressure, the loneliness, the disconnection from my true self… it all became too heavy to ignore.

In my search for healing and purpose, I found a spiritual community that, on the surface, felt like home. They welcomed me, supported me and made me feel like I belonged.  After years of feeling unseen, this felt like love.

But it wasn’t.

Beneath the warmth and devotion, there was control. Fear disguised as love. Power wielded under the guise of spiritual truth.

At first, I didn’t see the subtle manipulation.

The slow erosion of my self-trust.

The way my autonomy was quietly stripped away in the name of faith. I convinced myself I was in the right place—that I was growing, healing, becoming more enlightened.

But in reality, I was losing myself.