My story began in a beautiful mountain town in Romania, a landscape of fairy tales where native sayings and stereotypes still hold a grip.
I was born as an only child of my parents, brought into a mixed background, with a courageous mother who dared to marry in a minority culture.
Growing up, I felt different but I also wanted to build a better world. As I approached adulthood and contemplated choosing a career, making a difference stood close to my heart.
I've trained in Social Work and I practiced for 5 years on the most meaningful areas: in adoptions where I felt the joy of families finally feeling complete, and in supporting adults in terminal stages, witnessing their vulnerability and strength as they were getting ready to part with their loved ones.
I've learnt a lot, I laughed and I cried and I feared of losing my loved ones too.
As I witnessed connection, fear and loss, I felt connected to what makes us feel human.
The common theme that these two different poles of work brought for me was the awareness that I was drawn towards providing emotional support and always intrigued about what makes people strong and resilient through life. I felt deeply honoured and humbled by the experiences I was witnessing.
I was listening to these life stories beyond what the obvious facts were pointing. The emotional world of my clients would interest me more that the paperwork I needed to fill. This led me to change career paths and to train as a Positive Psychotherapist.
Being a Psychotherapist is a work that I'm still in love with, that taught me more about myself, about how determined I can be, about what helped me, this time, to hold on and not give up. I felt aligned in my purpose, in my values and had clarity on what I wanted to give back.
It went on parallel with becoming a wife and a parent and leaving my roots to start again in a new country.
Motherhood. I often say it's the thing that got me closer to getting to know my light and my shadow.
It has also taught me a new resilience and stubbornness and a precious lesson on self-abandonment as I learnt to navigate the great responsibility of being a mother.
Often, when I listen to the women I work with and their life stories, I notice many similarities to mine, and I witness their skill of juggling so many important roles that life had given them.
What inspires me the most in our work together is when I see women getting back to themselves in a different way, remembering their roots and uniqueness, integrating their beautiful scars and returning to a fortified sense of self.
They complete the cycle and reach authority over their lives, claiming all the wisdom gathered from living, being and witnessing, just like I once did. It still feels grounding, humbling and an honour to hold space for their agency to emerge.
This is my hope for CorAnima, that all of us can experience a more grounded sense of self, a deeper authenticity and aliveness.
CorAnima is the soul of my work and the legacy I leave behind. It carries the essence and the courage needed to open hearts and start a new dialog that empowers connection so we can start loving the life we live.
