If I had to define myself in two words: a mystical adventurer.
Today, I practice animal communication and offer energy healing. Yet, this was not the path I had imagined at first. Life gently guided me here, step by step, almost without me realizing, but always with infinite kindness.
Since childhood, I have always been very creative. School bored me deeply. So, taking advantage of the family turmoil, I left school at 16 to start working. Naturally independent, I tried to carve my path in a world I didn’t understand.
One day, on a whim, I decided to take the entrance exam for the Beaux-Arts of Paris. I didn’t really believe I would pass, and to everyone’s surprise, I did. Even today, I can say that art and creation saved me. For the first time, I found myself in an environment that resonated with me, that nourished my soul. Even if people sometimes found me strange, it was tolerated: “Ah, she’s an artist!”
Then, strange events began to occur. Until I was forced to seek help: my perceptions were opening, but at that time my vibration was drawing me toward disturbing things.
That’s when I met Paul. He took care of me. And then it was like fireworks. Expansions of consciousness, doors opening, and my initiatory path beginning. I was no longer alone. Mother Meera was also with me, through silent, telepathic communication.
I didn’t always understand what was happening. Part of me found it very natural, while another part felt very destabilized.
I was 20, and all I wanted was to discover the mysteries of life. With every journey, a piece of the puzzle was revealed: Polynesia, India, Mongolia, Mexico. Each of these places marked me deeply.
I reconnected with memories of past lives, I met my spirit animal again. I saw myself as a shaman or healer in different cultures, in lives that were not always bright. So I had to cleanse all of that, in depth.
Then I met Don Patricio, a “Huichol Grand-Father,” whom I followed for three years, in France and in Mexico, where I took part in a pilgrimage in the Wirikuta desert. It was during that pilgrimage, on top of a pyramid, that I had one of my greatest mystical experiences.
Art, travel, experiences… all of it was intense, abundant. But my boat was not taking off. I was struggling as an artist. My gap with the world kept growing. I didn’t know how to adapt. My stories were beautiful but brief. They did not take root in matter.
And then, my father died. I was in my forties. Strangely, I felt something opening. Like a passage. Like a gift. A page was turning, another one could be written. I didn’t want to fight anymore, I wanted to build.
I went in search of my place. The one where my soul could fully unfold. I needed nature, wild life. And here I am in Costa Rica.
It was a "Bovo," a multicolored bird, that delivered the message. One day, during a walk, I sat down for a moment. In front of me, on a rock, a sunbeam illuminated a feather, lying there like an offering. It was magical. Later I learned that the male leaves a feather to show the female where to build the nest. I was moved to tears.
Since then, animal communication has become essential. Living in the heart of nature reconnected me to my own nature: complex, rich, full of mysteries, like a forest, like the feminine.
And then came the sad news, both painful and profound: my horse, “Beso de Caramelo.” One of the most precious beings in my life.
He suddenly fell ill, and there was nothing I could do. I had to make the decision to euthanize him. It was unbearable, but seeing him suffer was even worse. I told him, “I'll be with you. Tell me when you're ready.” One day, he looked at me deeply. A sad but peaceful look: “I'm ready.”
That day, as if by magic, a group of friends came to visit me. One by one, Beso came to say goodbye to them. It was heartbreaking in its beauty. A perfect farewell.
But on the final day, nothing happened as expected. A mistake by the vet, destiny, who knows. I will never forget that look, this noble animal lying on the ground, probably given too weak a dose to let him go. His eyes locked on mine, full of incomprehension. Even when the being is ready to leave, the impulse of life is so strong, every second was burning me. I was devastated.
It took me months to recover. Tiago, my other horse, too. The pain in me was so strong that I didn’t dare talk about it. Who could have understood?
Then came this strange, immense feeling. As if I had lost “the love of my life.” Irrational? Maybe. But that’s how I felt. And in that heartbreak, something revealed itself: a new capacity, the ability to receive and hold unconditional love. To the point of making every fiber of my being vibrated.
It is this open heart, this expanding vessel, that I now offer in my healing work. It is my main tool. And this is only the beginning.
