Ульяна Солнечная – Whole: from losing yourself to loving yourself (страница 3)

Second: my unique life experience; my thorny path that I created myself; my decisions; my countless leaps out of my comfort zone. All of this shaped me into a person who simply does not suffer anymore.

I want you to understand me correctly.

I’m not made of iron. I can feel sad—just like any human. Women sometimes feel deeply, and that’s natural. But sadness is not suffering.

I no longer suffer.

And you can learn this too.

Your challenges and difficult situations will teach you. They will strengthen you. This is the best thing that can happen to you. Treat your problems as lessons. Don’t fear the hardships—they are training, and with time you will stop suffering. Nothing and no one will break you.

So let’s learn: not to suffer.

We may feel sad sometimes—but we let the sadness go and move toward a better life. It’s not easy, but it’s possible. Let this become your affirmation. Write it down. Practice it. This is the quality of whole people.

I was fortunate: optimism settled inside me from childhood. I remember how my grandmother and I would sit in front of the TV in the evenings, watching Brazilian soap operas. I was a girl with braided hair and big dreams, imagining that one day I would live like the heroines on the screen—beautifully, freely, with fire in my eyes. I didn’t know then that those evenings would become the foundation of my inner state—to love life, to believe in love, to choose light.

Today I truly believe:

Thoughts shape reality, and suffering is a choice.

Yes, we cannot choose what happens to us. But we always choose how we respond. Cry or grow. Complain or move. Close off or open up.

I chose to live fully.

But before making that choice, I had to go through much more than I could have imagined.

My difficult childhood passed, I grew up, went to school, then to university. I had my first relationship at eighteen. I loved and was loved. I completed seven years of university and earned a master’s degree. And then came 2013.

Everything collapsed in a single year.

I was 23—an age when you don’t yet know who you are, but you think everything is under control. And then, in one instant, life disappeared under my feet.

My grandmother died.

My mother underwent major brain surgery and almost completely lost her health.

My father suffered a stroke.

My relationship—the one I had invested my heart and soul into—ended. Five years with a man I believed was my support, my love, my meaning. He gave me confidence, resources, opportunities—and at the same time, he betrayed me.

He cheated on me in the most difficult period of my life. It was a shock. I trusted him. And suddenly it felt like I had lost everything.

Inside, I “died.”

All this happened at once. I had to make decisions alone. The betrayal was the most painful of all. I gathered every ounce of strength and faced every problem one by one. Not without the help of loved ones. God was always near.

My mother survived the brain surgery and got better.

We buried my grandmother.

My father stabilized.

But my relationship… ended. And the trauma lingered. For a year I lived in pain—love’s pain.

Tears, anxiety, a sense of complete collapse. At that time I worked at the university, finished my master’s thesis, passed exams, and defended my degree with excellence. But inside one question remained:

How do I live now? How do I be alone?

My friends disappeared.

I stood among ruins—but my real life began on those ruins.

I decided to move to Moscow—the city of strong people and great opportunities. It was the best decision of my life. Yes, the path was hard. For the first time I lived alone, far from my parents. I cried, suffered, worked, read—far away from everything familiar. And I didn’t want to go back. Not because Moscow immediately felt like home, but because I was afraid to return to the past…

In that loneliness, I battled for peace of mind, heart, and body.

Day after day, week after week, month after month, year after year—I continued my ascent without a clear plan, without support, but with enormous determination.

Time passed… and I slowly began choosing myself. First in small things—listening to my own desires. Then in bigger ways—seeking opportunities, learning new skills, working on myself externally and internally, going where I felt fear. The pain still lived inside me, but it no longer ruled me.

Distance, time, and inner work healed me.

I learned to look pain in the eyes and move forward.

This is how I was reborn.

Not in one day—but exactly when I had nothing left, I met my true self. And I began to like her.

Today, I look back with gratitude. Even at him—the one with whom everything fell apart. I thank him for the love, for the pain, and for the awakening. Without him, I might have stayed in that comfortable “prison.” Sometimes, to walk into freedom, you must walk through fire.

Every woman at least once in her life meets her “awakener”—someone who shakes her, knocks the ground from under her feet… and with the same act gives her a chance to find herself again.

I share this story with women whose lives are collapsing now. Because when everything collapses—it is terrifying. But that is exactly when a new Self begins to take shape.

I can’t name the exact moment when the final awakening happened—when I realized that I no longer wanted or knew how to suffer.

Maybe it was early morning when sunlight fell on my pillow and I felt silence inside, without blame or self-pity.

It was simply over—and simultaneously beginning.

I stopped waiting for someone to save me.

I stopped praying for things to return “as they were.”

I realized: nothing will be the same again.

And that… is good.

That was my first adult choice—choosing myself.

I was surprised only by one thing:

How had I not awakened sooner?

Because the truth is simple:

Only I choose in my life.

Only I am responsible for my path.

And only I can decide to move forward—at any moment.

If at that moment someone—man or woman—had told me these truths, maybe it would have been easier. But later I understood why life sometimes must collapse.

Keep reading…

I didn’t know yet how to live or what to do next, but I knew one thing:

I would not be a victim.

I no longer wanted to explain why I felt bad.

I no longer wanted to search for someone to blame.

I no longer wanted to live a life that wasn’t mine.

And when you finally let go, something miraculous happens inside—air appears.