The week that changed how I meet life - a personal experience

I didn’t go to my first retreat because I felt inspired.

I went because something inside me was tired of pretending.

Almost ten years ago, I signed up for a women’s retreat with a tight chest and a lot of resistance. I remember thinking: What am I even doing here?
I had a family. A life that looked full. A schedule that never stopped.

And still - I felt deeply alone.

Not the kind of alone that comes from not having people around.
The kind that lives inside a house full of voices.

I felt unseen.
Unheard.
Misunderstood in ways that are hard to explain but heavy to carry.

Most days, I was overgiving. Holding everything together. Functioning.
And underneath it all, there was this quiet, stubborn feeling:

This can’t be it.
This can’t be all life has for me.

I didn’t know what “more” was.
I just knew I couldn’t keep living like this.

So there I was. Sitting in a circle of women.

And my system didn’t know what to do with it.

They looked at me. Really looked.
No fixing. No advice. No competition.

I remember feeling exposed - and strangely safe at the same time.

They saw me as I was. Not as who I was trying to be.
And something in me cracked open.

Only later did I understand that this was touching an old wound.

I grew up with a single mother. I heard many stories about women - how hard they are, how they don’t support each other, how jealousy and scarcity rule female spaces. I carried that into adulthood, into work, into relationships.

And suddenly I was sitting in a reality that didn’t match that story at all.

That retreat didn’t heal me in one week.
But it changed something fundamental.

It was also where my path into Tantra began - not as an idea, but as an embodied experience. Feeling myself. Feeling others. Being in my body instead of only in my head.

Over the years, I kept returning to longer retreats. Weeklong spaces.

And each time, something different happened - but some things stayed the same.

I was seen.
I dared to be seen.
I shared what I usually swallowed.
I met parts of myself I had avoided.
I spoke truths I couldn’t un-speak anymore.

A week is long enough for the masks to get tired.
Long enough for the nervous system to stop performing.
Long enough for honesty to arrive without force.

What stayed with me wasn’t the peak moments.

It was the way my body remembered safety.
The way I learned to stay with discomfort instead of running.
The tools that followed me home - into relationships, work, parenting, everyday life.

I didn’t come back “fixed.”

I came back more alive.
More honest.
Less willing to betray myself.

Slowly, I began to live the life I spoke about in those circles.

I stopped trying to fit into rules that never felt true.
I became braver about wanting what I want.
I learned to choose - again and again - presence over numbness.

Retreats didn’t give me a new identity.

They gave me permission to remember who I already was.

And once you feel that - really feel it in your body - there is no way back to pretending.

A quiet closing

I know now that depth needs time.
That real change doesn’t rush.

This is why I trust longer, immersive retreats - and why I resonate with the work of Malachit Events, who create spaces for embodied, honest transformation rather than quick spiritual highs.

If you’re curious, you’ll overview of their 2026 retreats here.

It’s an invitation to listen.

Sometimes that’s where everything begins.

Love <3 Medea Artemis