Standing Before Death in Hell

And What Led Me to Heaven

Olga Dakiv

Copyright

The Illness That Healed Me

Copyright ©2026 by Olga Dakiv

ISBN: 978-1-990168-01-7

Website: www.olgadakiv.com

All rights reserved. While this publication may be freely distributed for personal, non-commercial use, no part of it may be sold, used for profit, modified, or altered in any way without prior written permission of the author. Exceptions apply only under “fair use” for brief quotations in reviews, commentary, or educational content. Cover, design, production, and editing by Way Beyond Reach

Disclaimer

The story in this book is based on the real-life experiences of the author. It is for entertainment and educational purposes only, and not intended nor implied to be a substitute for professional medical advice. The reader should always consult his or her healthcare provider to determine the appropriateness of the information for their own situation or if they have any questions regarding a medical condition or treatment plan. The author of this book does not dispense medical advice or prescribe the use of any technique as a form of treatment for physical, emotional, or medical problems without the advice of a physician, either directly or indirectly. The intent of the author is only to offer information of a general nature to help you in your quest for emotional, physical, and spiritual well-being. The information and the opinions contained therein are not intended to diagnose, treat, cure, or prevent any disease. Statements are opinion and not facts or medical evaluations. The author, publisher and distributors are not responsible for any adverse effects or consequences resulting from the use of any suggestions or procedures described hereafter.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Copyright

Disclaimer

TABLE OF CONTENTS

INTRODUCTION

WAKING UP IN REAL HELL & MEETING DEATH

AWAKENING LOVE

BECOMING A PRISONER OF THE SYSTEM

I WISH I WAS NEVER BORN

THE ESCAPE

THERE WAS ONLY ONE DOOR

WAKING UP & REMEMBERING

‘THANK GOD’ I WAS BORN

LIVING IN HEAVEN ON EARTH

MY MISSION

THANK YOU

MORE INFORMATION

ACKNOWLEDGMENT

INTRODUCTION

This is a true story - raw and unfiltered. Be prepared. As unbelievable as some experiences may sound, everything happened exactly as I describe it. I am not using poetic license, nor speaking in metaphor or symbolism. I am sharing my experiences exactly as they occurred. What follows may challenge your understanding of what ‘real’ truly is.

I am sharing my story to inspire you to live from your heart, be true to yourself, and courageously follow your inner calling.

I am not special. Anyone can heal, grow, and awaken their own heaven on earth. I am living proof, having healed myself when no doctor could help me.

Now, open your heart, tune in to your soul, and allow my story to spark the fire of inspiration within you and remind you that your own heaven already awaits.

WAKING UP IN REAL HELL & MEETING DEATH

Taking away people’s suffering has been my dream since my very early childhood. In September of 2016, I was overjoyed – I finally earned my Masters and PhD in Holistic Sports Nutrition. The thought of helping people regain their health through a proper diet and lifestyle filled me with such excitement that I felt like a child on Christmas morning, unable to wait for the moment when all the presents could be opened!

One month later, in an October that felt more like the depth of winter, I went for a walk. I sat on a bench, gazing at the majestic Rocky Mountains in the distance. Their quiet vastness stirred something deep within me – a spark I had long buried.

I’ve never been a religious person, but I prayed with complete surrender, pouring my whole heart into the vastness of the universe, tears falling – not from sorrow or desperation, but from a deep desire to help others:

“Please… help me to help people. If I can’t do this – if this isn’t what I’m meant for – then there’s nothing else left for me to do in this life.”

I was willing to give anything and everything to ease human suffering. My childhood dream of helping very sick people become healthy finally felt within reach. I began making plans for how I would use my education to serve others, not knowing the universe had already set its own plan in motion – one that would take me down a very different path, as I was about to discover.

My studies – and some of my own life experiences – led me to believe that most health problems stemmed from poor diets, junk food, and unhealthy habits like smoking or avoiding exercise, and that illness could be fully controlled by making the right choices. I had no idea this belief was about to be shattered beyond repair. Not only would my convictions vanish like a coin in a magician’s hand – my entire sense of self and everything I thought I knew about my body and my life would dissolve along with them.

Before beginning my new journey of helping people restore their health, I decided to visit my parents in Russia. So in December 2016, I flew from Calgary, Canada to my hometown of Izhevsk, Russia. I had been there for barely a week and a half when I experienced an extremely strange dream – one so vivid it felt more like an event than a dream.

In it, I was dying. A sudden, piercing bolt of lightning struck inside my head, and blood began to flood my skull, pressure building – imploding from within. There was no escape, and no hope. Only the absolute certainty that death had already claimed me.

I woke with a violent jolt, instantly knowing I was either going to die or fall gravely ill – and there was nothing I could do to stop it. Something dark was coming for me, something unavoidable and already unfolding. I hoped it was just some horrible dream, but from everything I’d experienced before, I knew better. This wasn’t random. It was a glimpse into my future, and I didn’t realise I was only a few breaths away from living it.

Later that day, as soon as I finished eating my simple healthy dinner, I rushed to the bathroom with very intense diarrhea. In that instant I could feel every cell of my body and their movements. I could hear my blood flowing and every heartbeat. I could sense absolutely everything about my body as if it was communicating with me, and there was this knowing that something had just switched off, like a light switch on the wall. I immediately began experiencing distorted functions of my body’s systems; cardiovascular, digestive, endocrine, and nervous. I immediately knew that my body abruptly stopped working in a normal healthy way. It was as if someone snapped their fingers, and my body’s systems shut down.

In that instant, I knew my life would never be the same again.

Something fundamental had shifted, and I was powerless to stop it. How could this be real? Everything – gone – in a single second. The shock was so severe that my only thoughts were, “This can’t be happening. It has to be a dream.” I wanted to wake up. I had to wake up. But I was already awake, and every horrible detail was painfully real. I desperately wished it were only a dream.

How could this happen to me? I was living a perfect life. Fit. Strong. Eating only whole foods, no junk. Exercising. Outdoors. Fresh air. Sunshine. I had it all. I did it all – for my body, for my mind, for my life.

“WHAT DID I DO WRONG?” I frantically screamed, like a convict in a small cell – my cell being my own failing, sick body.

I wanted to run from this reality – run fast – but there was no way out. I was my reality. Escape didn’t exist. The terror and shock hit my mind as if millions of fire ants were biting and devouring my brain. I couldn’t brush them off. I couldn’t stop them.

I wanted to run. God, I wanted to run. But from what? From myself? From my own collapsing body? You can’t outrun yourself. You can’t outrun your illness. There’s nowhere to hide, only to face the reality.

Just like lightning striking my head in my dream, chronic illnesses ripped through my body in an instant, trapping me in a relentless labyrinth of pain, suffering, and suffocating loneliness.

There were no whispers. No warnings. If only I could turn back time – even just two minutes – in an attempt to undo it all and feel my healthy, normal body again. But there was no going back.

I felt utterly alone, as if adrift in a vast ocean with no land on the horizon to guide me. Every direction led nowhere. Fear gripped me, leaving me stranded in the cold, merciless expanse of my own helplessness.

Life’s most important lessons crashed over me like a tidal wave. The instant I felt my body collapse, I understood, with piercing clarity, just how precious my life – and my body – truly were. In that single, shattering moment, I knew how vital it is to grasp every scrap of joy, every fleeting breath, before it slips away.

For the first time ever I thought, “Wow, I had it all – my body and life. I didn’t need anything else. I was given everything upon birth to live my life. Why didn’t I enjoy my life more?”

Everything was ripped out of my life – my dreams, my goals, every achievement I had worked for. Everything I believed I knew, everything that once felt important, dissolved like a cloud in the sky – it was simply gone. It was as if none of it had ever truly existed at all. Illusions. Shadows. Stories my mind once told me.

I became hollow – an empty vessel without identity, moving through the world like a ghost who could touch nothing, do nothing, change nothing. I had never felt so stripped bare. I stood exposed before a greater existence, fragile and unguarded – like a newborn with empty hands, no knowledge, no past.

And then the sensing began. I felt EVERYTHING!

Not just the systems and organs of my body, but things far beyond them – things that didn’t belong to this physical world, yet were here, always present. I wanted to believe this was my imagination, but it wasn’t. I was awake. Fully aware. Every sensation, every pulse, every presence was real.

I heard someone calling my name from the corner of the ceiling – clearly and loudly. As I directed my attention toward it, I immediately noticed there were several female spirits, all calling my name. Their voices were laced with an enticing pull, urging me to join them.

I tried to feel it, to tune in deeper so I could understand what or who they were – and to my horror, I found it: a terrifying world of the dead and dark spirits.

I felt it instantly, knew it in my bones: they wanted me to cross into their abyss.

I could sense their world – a vast, pure blackness, an empty expanse saturated with their own misery and suffering. And what numbed me was realizing that they weren’t tormented by their darkness – they enjoyed it. They fed on it. They searched for other souls to swell their bleak, anguished domain. And what disturbed me was that they knew my thoughts, and I knew theirs.

I instantly began to feel other presences. I tried to sense them, to understand what they were – and when I finally did, my blood ran cold.

I was standing in the midst of hell itself, closing in from every side – no escape, no place to run. And there, in the suffocating stillness, I found myself face-to-face with Death, its breath cold against me, its hunger for my soul was bottomless. And all the while, I remained fully present both here on Earth and on ‘the other side’ at the same time.

Saliva stretched from Death’s jaw in long, trembling strands that dripped into the darkness between us. Its cold breath rolled over me like a predator starving for the kill – starving for my soul. Its entire existence pulsed with a single, endless, ravenous desire: to reap me.

I felt it. Every craving. Every intention. Every dark pull toward my soul.

Its emotions slammed into me like shockwaves – raw, naked, undiluted. There was no language – there didn’t need to be. The exchange was instantaneous, absolute.

Whatever I felt, Death swallowed whole. And whatever Death felt, I absorbed as if it were my own. There was no barrier. No separation. Just me – and Death’s consuming hunger to drag me into its world, rip my soul into shreds, and devour it for eternity.

This creature was the very heart of the deepest, most hellish realm. Its unfathomable hunger for my soul defied all human words. It seemed that the only way it could survive was by consuming my soul – no one else’s, only mine. It didn’t want my body; in fact, my living, breathing body was the lone barrier keeping it from taking me. I could sense that destroying my body was beyond its power, yet escape from Death remained impossible. All I could do was clutch my life with every ounce of will I had left, pouring every shred of energy from my failing body into a desperate fight to survive.

While my soul was under attack, my heart was pounding and ready to cease as Death stood inches from my face. I felt as if I were dangling from a cliff by the tips of my fingers and about to fall. An overwhelming certainty pressed into me: I was going to die. I could feel, and hear, beings waiting for me on ‘the other side’. Every hair on my body sensed hell.

Believe me, everything inside us is alive. Everything has a consciousness, and it responds instantly to what we feel and think. It’s impossible to fully describe what my body went through in that moment; it was as if every system within me failed at once, everything turning against me from the inside.

Amidst all the chaos and terror, my awareness stretched beyond Death itself, reaching outward, tuning deeper. And then – I felt it. Something greater. Something infinitely more powerful. Faint, almost imperceptible… yet unmistakably there. A force beyond human understanding, holding me in place, shielding me.

Even though I knew, in that split second, that it wasn’t my time to die, the feeling of dying never left me. It followed me constantly – because I was fully accessing ‘the other side’, still face-to-face with Death while remaining here on Earth. Death circled me with predatory patience, like a vicious, starving shark, fully aware of how fragile my body was and ready to claim my soul the very moment I died.

But there was a greater order at work, and Death could not defy it. There was no bargaining, no amendment, no loophole. It wanted me more than anything, but it couldn’t take me – not while I was still giving life to my physical body here on Earth. I instinctively knew that nothing could touch me unless my body died and I crossed fully into their world. So I clung to my life with everything I had, fighting to avoid falling into hell. I felt as though I were balancing on the thinnest thread of life – one wrong breath, one slip, and I would plunge straight into Death’s arms.

But it didn’t end with meeting Death. Hell continued. Two Hellhounds charged towards me, loudly clawing at the veil between their world and mine, scratching it with long, jagged, filthy claws as they tried to break through and snatch me. They looked like monstrous dogs fueled by rage – scarred, torn from past fights, bleeding, drooling sludge that dripped from their matted, repulsive fur. Their filth came from the decay stuck under their nails and lodged between their rotting teeth. Their demonic presence was more horrifying than anything any award-winning horror film could ever create.

It felt strangely natural to feel, sense, and know – to be fully present on ‘the other side’ while still here on Earth, one foot in each world. It was as if I had been doing it all my life, as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world.

I could sense everything around me, and at first it was terrifying. I saw and felt how everything exists in the same place – layered, intertwined – while we walk through it every second of our lives completely unaware. There is no need to travel anywhere; it’s only a matter of tuning in. Like adjusting a radio from one station to the next, we can shift from one existence to another with a single change in awareness. The world of the dead, the heavens, other dimensions, other realities, other races of beings – they’re all here, all at once, sharing the same space we think belongs only to us. There is no distance. No space. No time.

My mind was paralysed by the shock of it all. More than once I wondered, “Maybe I’m hallucinating”, but everything I saw and sensed was just as real as this world if not more real. And there is nothing on this Earth more horrifying than feeling and hearing those hellish beings craving my soul.

There was nowhere to go and nowhere to hide. Since there is no distance, wherever I turned, whatever I did, they were simply there.

One of my worst childhood nightmares was dying and being buried in Russia. Ever since I was a little girl, I felt that the place where I grew up was crowded with lost spirits. And to make that fear worse, some Russian cemeteries are truly eerie. Finding your deceased relatives feels like wandering through a horror labyrinth – honestly, the perfect set for a world-class horror film.

Some cemeteries are tucked deep in the forest, turning the whole place into a ‘city of lost spirits’. I remember walking through one as a child, searching endlessly for our relatives’ graves. We nearly gave up. And this forest wasn’t anything like a groomed city park with soft grass and gentle white pigeons. It was wild – rugged ground, twisted roots, screeching black crows overhead – and you had to watch every step so you didn’t accidentally walk across someone’s grave.

The fear of Death claiming me, and of being buried in Russia and forever trapped among those lost spirits, completely consumed me.

The presence of the dead and standing in the depths of hell filled the apartment where I was staying with my parents. It felt as though I had been violently, mercilessly thrown back into my childhood – into the very heart of everything I believed I had left behind when I escaped that life.

Up until this moment, I had never truly understood what PTSD was, never even imagined it, until I suddenly found myself drowning in it – fully consumed by a relentless, full-blown episode. There was no exit. I was trapped inside a looping horror reel, forced to watch my own worst nightmare unfold again and again with no end in sight. It was as if I had never left Russia, never left my family, and my beautiful life in Canada with my husband and son existed only as a dream. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t shake it off or return fully to reality.

I screamed inside my mind, “What is happening? Why can’t I stop this? I know my life in Canada is real – I’m just visiting my parents in Russia. How do I stop this unreal feeling?” It was like being trapped inside a movie. The real me was buried somewhere deep within – silenced, unheard – screaming for help, while the film kept rolling its script, its show, forcing me to play a role I didn’t want to play.

The shock wave left me numb: the sudden eruption of mysterious illnesses and symptoms, combined with a flood of hellish paranormal experiences, pulled me under like a rip in the ocean – nothing to grab onto – leaving me deeply traumatized.

I had to get back home to Canada. Three days later, I was on a plane. And Death was with me – every moment, every breath. It flew with me from Russia to Canada. Not because it needed a seat – it could have been anywhere – but because it wanted my soul so badly it refused to leave my side for even a split second. I still remember thinking, “I wonder what the passengers would do right now if they knew that Death is right here in the plane with them?”

I hoped that once I got home, I would finally feel better – that Death would fade into nothing more than a horrifying memory. But no. That hellish presence stayed with me, and I only got worse. My body reacted to everything – and I mean everything.

My hypersensitivities penetrated my entire being, stretching from my physical body and surroundings into the nonphysical world. The skin and the tissues beneath it would almost sizzle when I felt or heard ‘the other side’. My body could barely withstand the force of my sensitivities.

Not only did I become hypersensitive to everything around me, but most foods triggered severe reactions as well. I even began reacting to fresh drinking water. I could eat only four foods: cheese, meat, eggs, and rice (and I had to eat them every meal, every day – not for a week, not for a month, but for an entire year).

Every time I ate anything else – even something as innocent as a cucumber or a small lettuce leaf – my body would revolt. My heart would soar past 180 beats per minute, pounding chaotically. My hands and feet drenched in sweat. I felt dizzy to the point of staggering, and diarrhea would follow. Hormones went haywire. I couldn’t tolerate even the slightest heat. Nausea consumed me. My thyroid was low, yet I lost weight uncontrollably while eating two pounds of meat every single day. I felt ravenous and simultaneously repulsed by food – how was that even possible? Weakness dragged through my limbs. My legs and feet ached constantly. Butterflies churned relentlessly in my stomach and heart, as if I were perched on the edge of a cliff. Chronic fatigue and adrenal exhaustion overwhelmed me. I became hypersensitive to light, touch, and sound. Massive adrenaline surges shot through me, yet I still slept deeply, struggling to wake.

I was experiencing so many nonsensical, bizarre symptoms – things that should’ve been impossible, even contradictory – yet there I was, living all of them at once. But the worst part was how close hell felt. Death seemed to lean in even nearer whenever I made a single wrong move: eating a healthy food, trying to walk, even just watching TV or reading. No sunshine. No deep thinking. No music. I couldn’t walk without feeling on the verge of collapsing or being hit with violent heart palpitations.

No matter how much I wanted to do something healthy, there was nothing I could actually do. My water had to be ultra-pure, ultra-filtered, and even then I still had to boil it – otherwise my body would revolt. It felt as though I was being punished, forbidden from doing anything at all. All I could do was lie in bed, trapped with my thoughts, bewildered by what had brought me here, where I’d gone wrong. I was crying inside my broken, brittle body, as if I were its prisoner, sentenced for a crime I never committed.

Such a severe contrast – from having complete freedom in doing and eating anything I ever wanted, to utter stillness after my mind had burned itself in a living hell. It felt as though my body had its own agenda, entirely separate from me. I, pure awareness, could only observe this sick body, forced to endure its pains and bizarre, impossible symptoms. If I disobeyed, the reactions surged, pulling me even closer to the edge – to that thin line where life itself begins to slip away. And each surge brought Death even nearer, a reminder to keep still.

Silently, in the depths of my mind, I screamed to the universe,

“YOU’VE GOT THE WRONG PERSON! I CAN’T DO THIS! I can’t do or take anything to fix my health because I am not allowed, my body won’t let me! I don’t have the answers!”

I felt as though something greater had thrown an intense life-challenge at me – a shock to wake me up and force me to figure everything out. With a single snap of its fingers, I suddenly found myself suffering from mysterious illnesses and symptoms that so many people struggle with yet never find answers to. I had no choice but to burn in it, as if something was telling me,

“You think you’ve figured it all out? No degree can teach the true knowledge of health. The real answers aren’t found in schools. You want to help people? Want to know the real truths of health and life? Then walk the path yourself. Feel it. Live it. Only then will you know.”

The universe’s ‘graduation gift’ was brutal: health crises with no answers, no guides. It’s one thing to study health in books and classrooms; it’s quite another to feel these illnesses and symptoms coursing through your own body, to live it all firsthand.

How can you heal when you can’t do anything, take anything, or even eat anything?

All the health knowledge I had accumulated over the years became useless. 

How could I help anyone else if I couldn’t even help myself?!

I knew I needed certain supplements, but taking them provoked severe reactions.

It felt as if my hands and feet were bound, leaving me unable to move left, right, forward, or back – trapped, powerless to do anything to fix my health. There were no answers to be found anywhere.

What do you do when you cannot do anything at all? Who do you go to?

None of the doctors I visited – and I saw many – had ever encountered anyone reacting like this. My situation would puzzle them so thoroughly that they’d simply stare at me with blank faces, unwilling to acknowledge what they had just heard, or perhaps in outright denial of it.

How do you help someone who cannot be helped?

I wish I picked up on this message from the universe to me right away,

“The answers are not out there in someone else’s hands. They are never outside.”

But I didn’t see it, so I desperately kept searching for someone who might have the answers. Doctors were left speechless, unable to believe how anyone could react so violently to most foods – even to fresh drinking water. Every test came back normal. So much money spent, so much time, so much travel, so many doctors… and still no answers.

No doctor empathized with the depth of my desperation, the real pain I was enduring. They all treated it as if I were suffering from nothing more than a mild headache,

“Go home. You’re fine. Just eat healthy.”

In hopelessness I said,

“But doctor, I can’t eat anything! How can I be fine? I wasn’t born this way. I used to be able to eat everything before.”

I knew, deep within me, that something was inexplicably wrong with my body, even though from the outside nothing appeared amiss. I could have screamed until my voice shattered, yet no one could hear me – no one could help. I felt completely abandoned, as though my cries dissolved into silence and my agony went unnoticed, as if I didn’t even exist. It was like being sealed inside a soundproof room and left there to die. The psychological pain scorched through me, as if I was drowning in my own tears while my soul was burning.

There was no exit. Every day, I was in two hells at once – on ‘the other side’ where Death stalked me relentlessly, and here on Earth, trapped in a living hell as my brittle health stripped every joy from my life.

After three months of this torture, I felt drained, emptied of all strength. I was tired of running from my own death. Tired of being deathly sick and having no life left to live. I couldn’t eat. I couldn’t drink. The emotional and physical pain were so overwhelming that, more than once, I found myself wanting to ask the doctors to put me down like a dog – to give me an assisted death.

I was ready to die, ready to let go of absolutely everything. So instead of running from Death, I stood face-to-face with it – no fear, complete surrender and acceptance – and I consciously said to it,

“I’m ready to die, because I can’t live like this anymore. I’m tired of living in fear and pain, tired of running from my own death. I’m ready. You, Death, may stay beside me if you wish – I accept you. I will learn how to live with you. But while I am still alive, I will cherish every moment I have, no matter how crippled my body is, no matter how small the joy may be. Even if I have only five minutes left, I will love my husband and my son with everything I have. That is all I can do, and all I want to do… to LOVE. I want nothing in return. I just want to love them, and love every last moment I am given with them.”

Then, I just let go of everything, and of every fear I had ever held. I made peace with all of it, including my own death. I was ready to walk into the absolute worst – to fall into Death’s arms in hell and be devoured by that being again and again.

It hurt my heart so much to let go and leave my husband and very young son. I remember looking into my son’s eyes, trying with everything in me to believe that he’d be ok. It was as if a knife was piercing through my stomach and I couldn’t breathe. The emotional pain was so intense it felt as though my entire being might burn for eternity.

If you are a very ill mother – especially a dying mother with young children – you know how agonizing that reality can be. The greatest pain is knowing you may not be there for your children when they need you, especially when they are small and rely on you every single day. That fear dominates every other pain. I had no choice but to learn how to make peace with everything that was happening.

After finally giving up on struggling to survive, fully expecting my body to wither away and die, something completely unexpected happened.

Within one day of me accepting my fate – of ‘walking’ into Death’s arms, while loving every moment I still had and loving every person who touched my life – I felt Death beginning to drift further and further from me.

By the third day, it was gone completely.

In its place, something else appeared around me and within me – something I never want to lose or forget.

AWAKENING LOVE

An intense feeling of love began filling my chest. I could feel it and see it as pure light expanding inside me like a balloon, growing larger and larger, swelling to the brink of bursting yet impossible to break, only to expand further. There was no end to it. The love felt infinite – towards me and within me.

The intensity was so strong that I thought I was going to float up in the air and explode from the built-up pressure of pure love. It truly felt as though my physical body couldn’t contain that magnitude of love. Every cell seemed ready to burst apart and dissolve back into the energy of love itself, while I – pure consciousness – would continue to exist beyond this world.

I say ‘back into’ because everything is created from the same energy of love, and when something dies, it simply ‘returns back’ to that source of pure, unconditional love. Returns back is in quotes because, in truth, we never actually leave it. Just like a wave born from the ocean, rising for a moment before collapsing into itself again, everything returns to its source. The wave was never anything but the ocean – never separate, not even for a heartbeat.

I felt like a walking nuclear bomb of intense, unconditional love – touch me, and I’d explode from the love I felt for you. Every heartbeat, every breath, became an expression of that love.

Sometimes I had to tune out of this love just to feel more comfortable in my physical body, because it was so intense and so new to me at the time. You might wonder how I ‘tune out.’ I simply stopped focusing my thoughts on it. The love was still there – pure and unconditional – but the intensity softened. And whenever I wanted to feel it fully again, all I had to do was focus, direct my thoughts toward love: love for all existence, for my family, for myself, or even for my life. Instantly, that unconditional love would begin filling me again, expanding through my chest and radiating the brightest, most magnificent light.

Did I meditate to reach this blissful state? No. But I did shift my consciousness – my state of being – from a place of fear of dying to one of unconditional love, fully embracing, cherishing, and loving every single moment of my life and every moment with my family, no matter what, unconditionally!

At first, I was pleasantly scared. But once I grew accustomed to it and learned to control it, I spent most of my time immersed in the purest, most unconditional love – truly heavenly – and in the intensity and flow that felt comfortable for me.

I quickly learned that I create even more of the same love within and around me when I just think of loving my husband and son simply because they exist. They don’t need to know that I love them this much for the love to grow around us, filling me up and them as well. The energy of unconditional love is infinite. Nothing else is required to generate and radiate the most powerful energy of unconditional love. We can create more love than anyone can possibly drink by simply feeling a strong emotion attached to our concentrated thought about love.

Every time I wanted to express my love towards anything, I would experience the same balloon-like feeling of love expanding in my chest. When it would get too strong, I would again simply tune out of it a bit just to feel comfortable. This love is infinite, endlessly expanding itself. Most people don’t feel it because they are tuned out of it, and unaware of how to tune back in. Humanity has forgotten these simple truths – who we are and how to express our essence.

Somehow, I was able to look deeper into my experiences, gaining a higher sense of knowledge and understanding. It felt as though I had a magnifying glass inside me, letting me zoom in and learn more about what I was experiencing. All I had to do was ask. I saw clearly that I am, that we all are, made of the same unconditional love that resides at the center of each of our chests, right where the heart is. That’s no coincidence. From there, it radiates throughout the body, illuminating it and giving life to our physical body.

This presence of intense, unconditional love lasted every single day, every single moment, for several months, and during that time, I learned many valuable life lessons. But little did I know that I would have to live through those lessons to truly grasp them.

While I was at complete peace with everything that was happening to me, my body still remained delicately balanced on the very edge of life. I often felt as though I was close to dying, and whenever I drew nearer – whenever I tuned in – I could sense a vast, powerful force beyond words. I felt it holding me here on this earth, refusing to let me go, even when I believed I was ready. It simply would not let me cross.

For many months, I was stuck at the border between this life and the afterlife, living in two realms at once – as if the veil between them had thinned just for me.

I couldn’t comprehend what was happening to me – Death, Love, beings from beyond, other realms and dimensions, and mysterious illnesses that arrived in an instant.

After realizing it wasn’t my time to die – I wanted my normal, healthy life back. Deep down, I knew there was no going back. The only way was forward. But forward to where? Where was I supposed to begin? Who could help me through this, or hold my hand? There was no path laid out, no direction waiting in the distance, and no one to guide me. It was only me, facing the unknown ‘alone in the dark, feeling my way forward’.

I had to move. I just couldn’t sit still and do nothing while my health remained in that state.

I needed answers. Maybe my condition could never be fixed – I didn’t know. But at the very least, I wanted to understand what had happened to my body.

BECOMING A PRISONER OF THE SYSTEM

I didn’t want to go to any doctor, in any field of medicine, because my expectations were painfully low. Deep down, I somehow knew no one would be able to figure this out. But I had nowhere else left to search for answers.

I thought, “Maybe there’s a doctor out there who can finally explain what’s happening to me. Maybe I just needed to give them one more chance.” So I decided to do exactly that.

I didn’t want to see just another doctor next door; I wanted someone who went far beyond medical school – someone who traveled the world to study and wrote books about health. After a long search, I found a functional medicine doctor who seemed remarkably brilliant in his work.

As soon as I entered his office, my hope that he might have the answers for me renewed. I was immediately impressed by the sheer number of degrees and certificates he held in various fields of medicine. His walls were lined with his achievements, and bookshelves upon bookshelves overflowed with medical and health books. There were more credentials than he could ever use. “I’m in the right hands”, I thought. Don’t we all love to see the credentials of our health practitioners? We’re conditioned to believe that without them, we should steer clear – after all, what could someone without credentials possibly know about health? I had no idea what I was about to face.

His office was filled with rare medical cases and vast knowledge. I could almost smell his understanding of the baffling illnesses that held so many people in their awakened nightmare. It seemed as if he could unravel any mystery of the human body. He had treated a few patients like me – fragile people who could eat only a handful of foods and endured nightmarish, crippling symptoms that had puzzled doctors for decades.

I decided not to tell him about my experiences with Death, Love, other beings, or other realms, because I didn’t want him to think I was crazy and prescribe psychiatric drugs. I mean, imagine if I told a doctor I saw dead spirits, lived in real hell every day, and on top of that I have all these bizarre symptoms – what doctor in their right mind would believe me? They’d be convinced I needed serious mental help. The only person I had ever shared these experiences with was my husband; I couldn’t bring myself to tell my own parents for many years. I kept all my nonphysical experiences private, afraid that people would think I had lost my mind.

At first, my case baffled my doctor, but after lengthy and intense testing, he diagnosed me with an autoimmune disease called Mast Cell Activation Syndrome (MCAS). When I read about it, everything seemed to make sense – I fit the picture. Yet something deep inside me kept echoing, “You don’t have MCAS. It seems that way, but you don’t.”

Out of desperation, I ignored my inner voice and accepted the diagnosis, even though I sensed it wasn’t truly mine, MCAS was just the surface, and that there was something much deeper going on. But I couldn’t articulate what I felt, and I found no other help, so I surrendered to the doctor’s conclusions and treatments. What mattered most at that time was that someone finally heard me, believed me, and seemed to have answers. I felt immense relief at the possibility that this could be fixed, that I might eat real food again.

From never taking any medications, suddenly I was on six different drugs just to be able to eat. I was so desperate to eat food, to have my body’s systems function normally, to live a normal life again, that – heartbreakingly – I didn’t care about anything else.

Without researching any potential risks of the medications he prescribed, I followed every instruction my doctor gave me. Unfortunately, like most doctors, he never informed me of their side effects or possible dependencies, and, out of ignorance and desperation, I didn’t ask a single question.

He put me on four different antihistamines, a mast cell stabilizer, and an immune-support medication. Even with this handful of drugs – and at such high doses – my body was still barely accepting any food. Every single day I felt like I was standing on the very edge of my life. It seemed as though my body could break down completely at any moment, and that nothing would be able to save me.

After two months of forcing my body to cooperate, battling it day after day, it finally began to adjust. I was able to eat some healthy foods again. Not all of them, but far more than before. Yet I still had to rely on the medications just to eat common everyday foods.

Deep down, I knew this wasn’t normal – being able to eat only as long as I took the medications. “This is just wrong,” I told myself every single day. I could feel that my body wasn’t truly learning anything, as if it were lulled into a deep sleep by the drugs. It felt like I was avoiding what I was actually supposed to learn and do, though I didn’t know any better. At the time, I had no idea that my body was developing a dangerous dependency on these medications.

Within just a couple of months, my dependency had become so extreme that, without the medications, I literally couldn’t survive – they were a lifeline I couldn’t let go of. Not only would I be unable to eat, but my heart, central nervous system, and brain itself seemed to be unable to function. Some people can start and stop antihistamines and mast cell stabilizers at will, but others, like me, cannot. And yet we’ve come to accept – tragically – that once our bodies are bound to these drugs, we cannot get off them, even when we believe we no longer need them.

Later, I discovered that intravenous (IV) Benadryl is highly effective – even more so than any oral antihistamine – and, importantly, it doesn’t create dependency. I asked my doctor if we could try it. At first, he refused, or simply ignored me. That’s when it hit me: while I was trapped in my dependence on regular medications, there was far more profit in keeping me tied to a regimen I couldn’t get off than in giving me a few IV treatments that could actually help.

Eventually, he agreed to give me IV Benadryl. After just one treatment, my health improved dramatically. But it was too late – my body had already become deeply dependent on the oral medications, and I was forced to keep taking them even though I knew I didn’t need them. I couldn’t help but question myself,

“Why was I never offered Benadryl IV in the first place? Why was I given only medications that carried a high risk of dependency – not to mention serious side effects?”

The answer is obvious… repeat customers. They herd all of us sick people into the same never-ending treatment bubble, conditioning us to believe, “That’s just the way it is – there’s no other way.” We’re already weak, drained, and stripped of our hard-earned money, yet they push our bodies even further, trapping us in a system designed not to heal us, but to keep the process easy for them – and profitable.

But the deep, painful truth is that in our desperation, we ourselves succumb to their beliefs. By our own choice, we allow their convictions to become our own: “I need medication to live. My health problems are chronic.” And by doing so, most people hand over their power to doctors who often know no more – and sometimes even less – than we do. We are raised to believe that professionals always know better, so we stop doing our own due diligence and silence our deeper inner voice. It’s a heartbreaking reality – one that costs us our lives.

Let me be clear: these so-called professional authorities nearly killed me. They didn’t just overlook my suffering – they harmed me, again and again, each time deepening it even further.

After years of cycling through failed treatments – years of being heavily medicated with no end in sight, only sinking deeper – I finally admitted I was on the wrong path. Something was fundamentally wrong. Something had to change. Every pill I swallowed felt like I was living out someone else’s script, fulfilling someone else’s life, while sacrificing my own in the process.

Deep in my soul, something kept urging me, “Wake up. None of these drugs will help you. MCAS isn’t the real problem – if anything, it isn’t even real.” But at that point, I had no idea where else to turn or where to look for answers. Where do you go, what do you do, when you react to everything?

To throw gasoline onto an already blazing fire, all my medications suddenly went out of stock across the entire city – and no one knew when they’d be available again. Fear and panic seized me by the throat, squeezing tight like a cheetah locking down on a gazelle. I wanted to scream into the universe, “Who has my medication?!”

After years of failed treatments with one of the most highly regarded doctors, whom people travel from around the world to see, I hit absolute rock bottom. I could eat only meat, even while being pumped full of medications. I was reacting to the very antihistamines and mast-cell stabilizers meant to help me, yet somehow I was even worse without them. Worse than ever before. Nothing was working. On top of that, I was now being diagnosed with other chronic illnesses, entirely foreign to me.

My illnesses were eating my life away, and I watched it vanish before my eyes – still in my mid-thirties, far too young for this to be happening.

I began reacting to saline IVs with seizure episodes. Once again, my doctor had nothing to offer, so he suggested I ‘try’ an anti-anxiety drug – despite knowing very well that I had previously reacted to it with severe, life-threatening cardiac symptoms which sent me to the emergency room. I was speechless. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I reminded him that the drug could trigger a deadly reaction, and yet he still recommended it.

In that moment, I saw his true intentions – his real level of ‘care.’ It felt as though his priority was to push drugs, even at the cost of my life. I wish I had recognized that sincerity from the very beginning, when instead of offering a safer, more effective treatment, he hooked me onto medications I couldn’t stop taking – at doses so high there was nowhere left to go.

The reception area was cold and empty, a silent warning: it was his way – or don’t come back. I refused the anti-anxiety drug. I had to sit for at least thirty minutes before I could even stand without collapsing. Half-alive in his clinic, the emotional pain from his cold, careless attitude was beyond words. All I could sense from him was a single, echoing thought: “What else can I hook her onto?”

My husband, Mark, had to help me walk out of that doctor’s clinic, nearly carrying me. I never saw that doctor again. I chose my own suffering, my fragile health, over accepting help from him – or from any other doctor.

It took me a long time, a great deal of pain, and unimaginable suffering to finally see the truth: doctors will treat you first where they can profit the most. I never wanted to see another medical doctor again – and I never did.

By this point – after years of living hell – I had reached the very heart of the ‘medical labyrinth’ and faced a devastating truth: there was never an exit. No one had ever built one. The maze held no real answers to begin with.

I couldn’t stop thinking: “Who has the answers? What made me so suddenly sick?”

I would have given anything for answers, or even just to understand my sudden, mysterious illnesses and symptoms – but there was no one who had them.

As soon as I got home from his clinic, all given up, I lay in bed, sensing something watching me from above – waiting for my attention.

Out of desperation and complete emotional exhaustion, I screamed at it inside my mind,

“WHAT IS IT THAT YOU WANT?

WHAT IS IT?

I CAN’T DO THIS ANYMORE!

I’M DONE!

ENOUGH!

THERE’S NOTHING LEFT OF ME!

ENOUGH TESTING ME!

I AM BEGGING YOU TO STOP IT!

TELL ME, WHAT IS IT?

I HEARTFULLY FORGAVE EVERYBODY FOR EVERYTHING, LOVED MY FAMILY NO MATTER WHAT, ATE EXTREMELY HEALTHY, EXERCISED… WHAT AM I NOT GETTING?

WHAT AM I DOING WRONG?

TELL ME!”

I was terrified that I would spend the rest of my life this sick, this dysfunctional – living no life at all. It felt as if no medical authority had ever cared, or ever would. And when I could no longer go any further, I was simply discarded like garbage. I was a ‘body dragged across a gravel road for miles’, until almost no life was left in me.

The illnesses and treatments left my mind deeply traumatised. I no longer knew what was normal or not within my own body – I had completely lost touch with it. Any slight change, even a positive one, would throw me into intense anxiety: “What is this? Is this normal?” I had completely forgotten what it felt like to be normal. The fear that I was going to lose my mind would swallow me.

As if my illness alone hadn’t been enough to break us, January 2021 arrived like a storm: our savings were gone, my husband was unemployed, and in the span of a single devastating week, his mother died – and so did our dog who’d been our constant companion. Everything fell apart at once. All that remained were the three of us – my husband, my son, and me – holding onto each other in the silence. It was the quietest, most traumatic time of our lives, as if the world had stripped away everything else, leaving only our three souls together.

With nothing left to lose, I made my decision in a single heartbeat: I wanted to spend whatever time I had left in a warm place by the ocean. I thought, “It can’t get any worse than this. No one can help me anyway. So I may as well go live where I’d want to spend the rest of my life… or my days – New Zealand.” All I wanted was to sit by the ocean for every remaining moment of my life.

Mark has always supported my ideas – even the wildest ones. When I told him I wanted to move to New Zealand, he didn’t ask a single question or raise a single concern. I don’t think he even blinked before saying, “Let’s go.”

Less than a month later, the three of us were on a plane, carrying only ourselves – because our life had been stripped down to nothing. It all happened so fast, so suddenly, that we had no plan – no clue which city we’d call home, where we’d stay, or what Mark would do for work. All we knew was that we were heading into the unknown, abandoning the life we’d known, and beginning to live entirely in the moment – wherever it chose to carry us.

In that moment, I knew I was flying either toward my death – stripped of the specialized care I’d had in Calgary – or toward healing. One thing was certain: nothing would stay the same.

My health had cornered me so completely that the only way out was to do the unthinkable – the very thing I’d been running from, hiding from, since my early childhood.

I turned completely away from all medicine and embraced what the world would call ‘ridiculous.’ Every instinct screamed that it was impossible and even insane – but my health had driven me to a place where the impossible was the only path left.

What choice do you have when all doors are shut but one?

I opened it and stepped through cautiously, each step with uncertainty. From the very start of this new journey, almost everything I encountered left me stunned, thinking, “WTF is this?”

I WISH I WAS NEVER BORN

I wasn’t born a bright child. I didn’t start speaking until after the age of four and struggled to understand even the simplest things. In my first year of school, I failed completely. A child psychiatrist told my mother there wasn’t much hope for me – that I’d never be able to learn and should be sent to a special school for slow-developing children, where they medicate them to help them ‘cope.’ Thankfully, my mother refused.

The psychiatrist’s diagnosis felt like a black mark on my forehead – a label that made teachers turn away and quieted my soul into silence. No school or teacher wanted to take me. My mother grew desperate, worried no one would accept me, and it only made her life more difficult. I began to believe there was something deeply wrong with me.

After much pleading, my mother finally found one teacher who was willing to take me.

School was always stressful for me, and throughout my childhood, I struggled to fit into the world’s system. I watched other students learn with such ease and wondered what that must feel like – to understand, to remember, to feel capable. No matter how hard I tried, I just couldn’t.

The only skill I truly had was in athletics. I was born naturally strong, with remarkable strength and endurance. Because of that, I spent much of my time doing all kinds of athletic disciplines – cross-country skiing, gymnastics, dancing – and eventually competing in some of them. I brought home numerous first-place wins. Yet despite my exceptional abilities and coaches chasing after me for my natural talent, I took it all lightly – it was never my dream. My soul was crying to become a medical doctor – a dream that seemed far beyond my reach.

I remember my mother telling her friend about a medical doctor who was exceptionally gifted. She could look at a patient and simply know what was wrong – and she always found a way to help. Because of her extraordinary ability, there was always a long line of people waiting for her care. Even then, I somehow knew this was something you couldn’t learn in school – you had to be that. And I thought to myself,

“She must be so gifted and intelligent. If I could do only one thing in my life, it would be to see the unseen – the true cause of illness – and to have a knowledge of health unlike anyone else. I wish I could be just like that doctor, so exceptionally good. I wish I could take people’s suffering away.”

I longed for it so deeply it felt as though my heart ached for it. I couldn’t imagine being anything else in that moment. Yet I knew it was a dream far beyond my reach, because I couldn’t learn anything.

I couldn’t grasp complex subjects like math or physics – I could barely follow simple directions. Most of the time, I just watched others and pretended to understand, though I had no idea where they were going or what they were doing. Throughout my school years, I was barely keeping my head above water.

Still, the desire to help people, to ease their suffering and take away their pain, burned inside me like an unending fire. Even when I realized that becoming a doctor was a dead end, that desire never stopped burning within me.

I was a very quiet child – barely noticed, easily forgotten. I was afraid to speak, terrified that any word might make me look even more foolish than I already felt. Most of the time, I didn’t understand what was being said or what was happening around me. I avoided conversations like the plague, dreading every question that might come my way. I just wanted to disappear. I didn’t want anyone to notice me or ask anything I couldn’t answer. I didn’t ask questions either, knowing the answers would slip through me like water. So I retreated into my own inner world, where the silence was safe and the fewer words spoken, the safer it felt.

Being in groups was even worse. It was too loud, even when only one person spoke. Everyone had their own thoughts about what was being said, and I could feel them all. It felt like millions of thoughts were swirling in the air at once, and I got completely lost among them. There was no point trying to sort it all out – who said what, or why. I simply couldn’t absorb the flood of thoughts, let alone follow the conversation. I didn’t know it then, but I was taking on all their energies. It overwhelmed me, and I blamed myself, thinking it was just another failure to understand. It was like standing in a dark room, unable to see or understand where anyone was; only chaos in my mind – not knowing what was said, where they were going, or why. It was all too much, leaving me completely lost and overwhelmed.

No one in my family or among my relatives had struggled the way I did. Almost everyone was highly educated or excelled easily in school. I felt misplaced – like I didn’t belong to them, or even to this world. Why was I here? Why was I even born? I wanted to go back… but where? I just wanted to escape – my body, my life – to disappear, or to have never existed at all.

At around the age of eight I wished for the first time that I had never been born. I felt like all I brought to people’s lives was pain and trouble. I couldn’t understand the world, and the world couldn’t understand me. I wanted to disappear so others could have a better life without the burden of a girl who couldn’t grasp anything.

But the reality was that I was here, and I had to make it work. Around the same age while walking with my mom through the park and taking in my surroundings, I noticed how everything felt gray and lifeless. Even though I had never seen any other city or place, I somehow knew there had to be somewhere better – somewhere with more life and vibrancy. But where? I didn’t know then, but I did know one thing with absolute certainty: this was not my place; I did not belong here. So I looked at my mom and said, “I’m not going to stay and live in this place.”

My father, an alcoholic, would call me useless and stupid. My older brother never wanted me around or anywhere near his room, while all I wanted was to play and talk with him. He’d echo the same words – useless, stupid, and tell me I couldn’t do or learn anything.

I didn’t like being at home – it was endless chaos. Six of us lived in a small three-bedroom apartment: my mother, my alcoholic father, my older brother, my alcoholic uncle, my grandmother who also drank, and me. My other grandmother would visit only to drink as well. There were always arguments. The air was cold, thick with cigarette smoke. My mother and brother were the only sober ones, but my brother had hated me since the moment I was born. My mother was all I had – the only close person in my life.

Because of my mother’s fragile health, weakened by her heart and nervous system from my father’s years of drinking and abuse, I grew up in constant fight-or-flight. I remember waking in the middle of the night, rushing from my bed into the hallway, finding my mother collapsed on the floor, unconscious. In those moments, the world seemed to disappear beneath my feet, and I was certain that if she died, I would die with her. Each day carried the same shadow – the fear that she could be gone in an instant, that I might never see her again. Though I had never been to war, it felt like walking through a minefield, every step uncertain, every heartbeat bracing for death to strike and take her from me.

Death became my deep fear, because it could take away the only person who loved me – and whom I loved deeply. I wanted to protect my mother from my father, convinced that all her health problems and suffering were caused by him.

One night, when things at home spiraled out of control, I found my mother trying to end her life. I was too young to understand what was happening – only that something inside me broke. From that night on, I carried a deep hatred toward my father that would stay with me for decades.

I could feel the weight of her suffering, which I could neither lift nor escape. I came to believe her suffering was the price of her blind love for my father, and so love itself became my enemy and another deep fear – something to run from and avoid at all costs, because all it brought was pain.

My mother taught me, “Make sure you get a good education and a prestigious career with a high income, so you can be fully independent.” The message was clear: I should be able to walk away from any relationship I didn’t want to be in, and still stand on my own. I used to tell her, “I don’t want to love anyone. All love brings is pain and suffering. Look at your life – why would I do the same to myself?”

From an early age, I associated love with pain. My heart closed itself off, impervious to anyone or anything.  I had witnessed more cheating, fights, and arguments than true love or joy. To me, love was fake – a performance, a commercial illusion. No one could truly love anyone; all that beauty people displayed was only for show.

Watching my mother suffer tore my soul apart. I didn’t want her to be sick, and from my child’s point of view, I came to believe that her life would’ve been better without me. She wouldn’t have to worry about feeding me or finding money, and she could’ve left my drunk father without another child to raise. Because she had to care for me – this strange, difficult child – she couldn’t have a better life. I felt like a burden to everyone. With all the chaos around me, I longed to leave, believing that if I disappeared, my mother might at least have a chance at a better life.

I came to believe the world would be a better place without me – that my family would be happier, freer. I felt like an excess, a mistake, a problem that didn’t belong here. I wanted to dissolve into the air, or better yet, never have been born at all. Then, I thought, everyone’s life would be easier.

All these childhood experiences planted a deep belief in me – that love didn’t exist, or at least it was something to be avoided to protect myself from pain.

Death and Love became my two greatest fears – forces I felt I had to resist, fight against, and never let near my heart.

Alongside my poor performance at school and the constant fear that my mother might die, I was also running every day from a terrifying world no one knew about – the world of the dead.

My family was never religious or spiritual. We never spoke about the dead, the Bible, or anything beyond the physical world – I knew nothing of such things. Yet, at night, I often sensed the presence of the deceased. Sometimes I’d find myself on ‘the other side’ with them, not knowing where I was or what was happening. It terrified me. I didn’t know how to stop it or what to make of it. It felt like a curse I couldn’t escape.

I never spoke to anyone about my experiences. I already felt strange enough – there was no need to add to people’s confusion about me. I kept all my weirdness to myself, wishing it would just vanish so I could finally fit in and be normal like everyone else. I wanted to know what it felt like to be normal – to learn easily, to belong, to be part of the world around me.

As I grew older, my experiences with the dead became more intense. What began as simply seeing spirits turned into witnessing people during their transition – the moment between life and the afterlife. I found myself present on ‘the other side’, watching their crossing unfold as if I, too, were part of it.

It began after my aunt Olga was instantly killed in a horrific car accident, leaving behind her husband, Valera, and their thirteen-year-old son. Nine months after her death, I found myself on ‘the other side’ – in the transitional space.

I stood in a vast expanse before a spiral staircase that looked as if it were made of dense mist – not fog, but something that only resembled it. There was no ground, no walls, only an atmosphere that felt like walking through a cloud, yet everything remained clearly visible. I began walking up the stairs, each step weightless and soundless.

At the top was a room made of the same mist-like substance, without ceiling or floor, only a sense of endless openness. In the center stood my aunt, radiant and alive, smiling at me. Strangely, I wasn’t afraid. I moved closer, completely calm.

She began telling me about events from my future, all of which would later come true. My mind was clear, my thoughts sharp. I felt fully awake, my awareness as present and vivid as in ordinary life.

I had many questions about my future, but I asked only two. She answered both, and both proved true years later. Then she interrupted me and said it was time for me to leave. Yet somehow, I knew she had to leave as well.

Driven by curiosity, I ignored her instruction to return to my body and followed her instead. She entered another room – one without a floor or ceiling, made of the same cloud-like substance. As I stood there, observing and sensing the space, I realized there was no such thing as distance, space, or time. Everything simply was.

I stood in the doorway, more outside the room than inside. I sensed I wasn’t supposed to be there, yet out of deep curiosity, I refused to leave. Inside, all of our deceased relatives were gathered around a large table. It felt as if they were about to celebrate. I could feel their excitement and joy, and the anticipation of welcoming someone they deeply loved – someone who was one of their own. I instantly knew they were waiting for their beloved relative to come home, to join them in the life beyond. The room’s atmosphere was filled with their unspoken happiness, excitement, and warmth.

I noticed a spirit emerging from the light and entering the room to join them. Somehow, I knew that someone on Earth had just died, and I was watching his soul arrive. As the soul began to enter, everyone lifted their glasses of wine in joyful celebration. It was a homecoming – a reunion on ‘the other side’, where one life had just ended, and had returned home.

When I leaned closer to see who the soul was, a sudden, powerful force tore me away – ripped me out of that realm. I was slammed back into my physical body with such intensity that my heart felt like it had gone silent – then started again, flooding me with terror. The clock on the wall in front of my bed read 3:00 a.m. I could still sense everything from that realm. Fear rushed through me, and though I tried to contain it, I couldn’t. Terrified, I ran into my mother’s room and crawled into her bed, trembling in the dark once again.

When morning came, my mother and I went to the market. As we walked between the stalls, I told her about being on ‘the other side’ – how I saw our deceased relatives, and a soul crossing over, and that it happened exactly at 3:00 a.m.

Later, when we got home, my dad was sitting in the kitchen, the phone still in his hand, his face pale.

“The hospital just called,” he said quietly. “Valera died last night at 3:00 a.m. – heart attack.”

The world went still. My mother turned to me slowly, her eyes wide, as if she were seeing a ghost standing right in front of her.

Valera was my late aunt Olga’s husband – the very soul I had watched cross over only hours before.

After that night, I witnessed many more souls crossing from their earthly life into the afterlife. Some were startled to see me on ‘the other side’ – confused by my presence, while others were even frightened, realizing that I wasn’t one of them. Some didn’t know what to do and asked for help; others begged for help because they didn’t want to die.

I also saw souls preparing to come to earth – beings about to be born into life. Among them were even animals, including pets I would later meet here in the physical world.

I spent most of my life running from the dead. I didn’t know how to handle it all, or why it had to be me. Why couldn’t I just be like everyone else, normal? I grew up believing I wasn’t. So I kept running from myself, trying to shut down every strange ability I had – every trace of what made me different.

While people were busy talking, I would drift into my own world, quietly observing the subtle colours that surrounded them. I watched the way those hues and shapes moved, trying to understand what they revealed about each person as I listened to their voice. I didn’t know then that what I was seeing was called an aura – I only sensed that it was their truth behind the curtains.

It felt like looking at the cover of a book and somehow being able to read its chapters without ever opening it. While others formed opinions based on appearances or words, I was drawn to what lived behind them – to what could never lie or pretend.

And when the colours weren’t visible, I would reach out with my awareness instead, feeling their energy field as if touching it from within. I didn’t understand what I was doing back then. It was the only way I could comprehend people – their hearts, their emotional state, their inner vitality.

Somehow, I knew these colours and energies revealed the essence of a person – their character, their emotions, their health, the very state of their being. They showed who someone truly was, beyond words or appearances.

I still remember being around nine years old when a very tall man walked into a store. His aura was enormous, radiant, and pulsing with colour, as if he were glowing from within. He seemed alive in a way that lifted the space around him. Every other aura in the room paled in comparison.

Most people, by contrast, carried muted, greyish auras – dim, heavy, lacking light. Their faces mirrored this inner dullness: burdened with worry, weighed down by life, with almost no trace of joy. I could feel their struggles, their sickness, their tiredness. And in that moment, I understood something invisible to most: the colours of a soul spoke louder than anything words could say.

I preferred observing people’s energies when they stood with their backs to me – that way, they wouldn’t wonder why I was staring. I didn’t see auras all the time, but often enough that they became part of my world – a silent language I instinctively understood. Whenever one appeared, I tuned in completely, becoming utterly mesmerized by it all.

It was easier when a person spoke. Their voice carried its own vibration that I could match with their colours, revealing nuances that words alone could never express. I could sense what they truly meant beneath what they said – the emotions they hid, the truths they didn’t voice.

It felt like holding a box of crayons and painting the unseen portrait of a person’s inner life – their emotions, health, character, and energy. By the time someone turned and met my eyes, I already knew the picture. I had seen and felt their soul, their intentions, the quiet essence that lived behind the body and voice.

When I couldn’t grasp the meaning of someone’s words or the chaos around me, I would retreat inward, into my heart, and listen. When their actions or speech baffled me, I would sink deeper, tuning into the subtle currents of their environment. In that stillness, I could peer directly into their soul – a space that could never lie, only reveal itself in full truth.

Over the years, as I quietly practiced this unintentional art of observation, I discovered I could sense who a person was before they even spoke a word – perceiving their essence behind every gesture, every glance, every breath. I often wondered, “How is it that people cannot see others as they truly are — their pain, their struggles?”

I often felt misplaced, as if I’d been born in the wrong place, the wrong country, and even into the wrong family. Nothing ever felt like home. There was a constant pull inside me, a quiet longing to go somewhere else… though I never knew where that was.

I loved sitting alone on the balcony late at night, speaking into the vastness of the universe – to the unseen beings I felt nearby. Their presence was immense and powerful, surrounding me with calm and safety. I could feel them listening, protecting, and caring for me. It was as if their only purpose was to hear me – to quietly answer every whisper and request that left my heart.

I would ask these beings to help me find my home – or at least to give my life meaning, a reason to exist. In those moments, I could feel their immense compassion and love for me, as if I were the most important soul in the universe. Somehow, I trusted them completely. Their guardianship felt almost tangible, like a protective shield around me, carrying the quiet certainty that the life I was searching for still lay ahead.

I never spoke to anyone about them. I was already seen as a strange child – who would I tell about things like this, and who would believe me? In my family, the rule was simple: get real, get an education, get a prestigious job. Anything beyond that was dismissed, even ridiculed.

My earlier psychiatrist’s evaluation planted the seed within me that I was not normal. “Maybe I shouldn’t be seeing colors around people,” I told myself. “Maybe it isn’t normal. No one else sees them.” I doubted everything – myself, my perceptions, and every part of me that didn’t seem to belong in this world.

As I grew older, I tried to push it all away, to ignore the colors, just to pretend I was like everyone else. I wanted to be ordinary, to blend in, to erase every part of me that felt different.

By the time I was fourteen, I realized my life wasn’t going to get any better. My father wouldn’t stop drinking, my mother’s suffering would continue because of it, and I would never meet the expectations of school. Out of desperation, I began to retreat into my own private world, living in my imagination whenever I could. Day and night, I immersed myself in it, convincing myself, as much as possible, that it was real.

It wasn’t always easy to hold my focus – the world around me constantly intruded, pulling me back into its noise. But when you’re desperate, nothing else matters. You do whatever it takes to grasp the feeling your heart is craving. So I pretended, again and again, until my imagined world began to bleed into reality, until it felt as real as the air I breathed.

I lived almost entirely in my imagination – convincing myself that my imagined world was real, and that my real life was only a bad dream. Back then, I knew nothing about the power of imagination; I had never even heard of such a thing. I didn’t create those worlds with hope or expectation. I felt far too unlucky for that. I imagined simply to escape – to rest somewhere where my pain couldn’t reach me.

Interestingly, deep within me, I felt that a better version of my life actually existed, and I was pretending to live it – I just didn’t know where, when, or how. That knowing rested somewhere deep inside me, and I was like a well-trained police dog, subconsciously sniffing out my better life – following the call of my heart rather than the demands of others. After all, I could hardly ever meet anyone’s expectations, so I might as well follow my own.

Only four years later, at eighteen, the life I had long imagined began to unfold before my eyes. An opportunity had finally arrived. Ahead lay the future I had dreamed of for so long – once a distant dream, now within my reach. This was the moment that could change not only my life, but my mother’s as well – a true fork in the road, where everything could shift in the blink of an eye.

THE ESCAPE

The one thing I had always possessed and never lost was complete freedom of my heart – I did whatever I wanted on a whim. I liked exploring new opportunities to see where they might take me. So, at the age of eighteen, I was introduced to the director of a modeling agency and was offered work there.

It was a beautiful summer day when I went to the modeling agency to pick up a thick stack of my professionally done photos. The director and I had a relaxed, easy conversation until he started talking about one of his models who had moved to the United States.

The moment I heard him say that, everything stopped. My attention locked on that single idea. I didn’t want to hear anything else – only how that young Russian woman had managed to get there. My brain lit up like a switchboard; I was ready to ‘pull all of his teeth out’ to make him tell me all about it. He didn’t stand the slightest chance of leaving or even changing the subject until he’d ‘spilled all the beans’ for me. Anything that he knew about it, no matter how insignificant, I absolutely had to know.

It wasn’t about the United States, it was about how she’d managed to leave this country, and at such a young age. No one I knew had ever done that, or even knew how. For most Russians, leaving to live in another country was simply impossible.

I asked him with intense curiosity, “How was she able to go there?” He replied very calmly, “She met a man from USA who invited her as his bride to marry her.”

Sadness washed over me. I couldn’t even imagine where I could meet a man from another country, let alone one who would like me. Who could possibly want me? It must have been her luck, I thought quickly.

But my curiosity didn’t leave me, so I asked anyway, “How did she meet him?”. He said, “She went to a bridal agency that helps single women meet men from around the world.”

In an instant, my hopelessness turned into the greatest possibility of my life. I absolutely had to know the name of that agency and where it was. And to my luck on that day, he gave me both.

Our conversation ended soon after; I had to get to that agency immediately. There wasn’t even time to breathe. I was like an eagle diving for its prey, there was no escape, no hesitation. I couldn’t let this opportunity slip through my fingers; it was the only way out of where I was.

When this opportunity knocked, one that could completely change my life and take me far away from this place, I had to answer. Even if it meant to change everything, including myself.

Luckily, I was ready for it that very day. I had just picked up hundreds of beautiful, professionally taken photos from the director, and I was an eighteen-year-old single young woman.

I felt like a wild child let loose in a toy store – I had to have it, and I had to do it.

There was no time to breathe, let alone think. In a big hurry, I rushed through the streets, as if my life depended on it, heading straight for the bridal agency. The moment I stepped inside, I fired off a hundred questions at once. They looked at me as if I were a child and said, “We only accept women seeking a serious relationship with the intent to marry.”

The words made me pause for a split second because I wasn’t looking for anything serious, and I’d never even been in one before. But once the train starts moving, you either jump on or get left behind. So I jumped – I was now a serious young woman looking for a man from another country to marry me.

However, I wasn’t looking for love because I didn’t believe in it. I was simply looking for a good man, someone who could be a good husband. I saw it as a way to escape the chaos of my family, to give my mother the chance to leave my father, and to finally find the true home I had longed for.

Marrying a man from a foreign country seemed like the only way out of my situation. I was all in.

I filled out an application, and the ladies at the agency told me, “It will take a couple of weeks before you start receiving emails from men.” Curious, I asked, “Roughly how many should I expect?” They replied, “Two or three a day is what our women usually get.”

I didn’t want to just sit and wait, so I decided to visit my cousin in another city. Back then, I didn’t have a cell phone, computer, email, or internet – there was no way anyone could reach me if I wasn’t home. This agency was my first real exposure to the digital era.

I left the city without telling anyone about my new plan, not even my parents, because I had low expectations. Who could possibly want me? These men were probably educated and smart, looking for equally intelligent women – not like me, a girl scratching at the walls of school like a prisoner, desperate just to get out.

Upon my return a week later, I decided to call the bridal agency to see if there was any news or if they had tried to contact me. They were frantic, speaking a mile a minute. Within the first two days of my ad going live, I had received over three hundred emails from men around the world, and they just kept coming. By day three, they had closed my ad because they couldn’t reach me and the volume had become unmanageable. That turned out to be a stroke of luck, since the agency was charging me for every email I received, whether I replied or not.

Now what was I supposed to do with over three hundred emails, all in foreign languages I had never studied? English had been one of my school subjects, but I could barely manage my own Russian language and literature classes, let alone English. And yet, here I was, sitting with a thick pile of printed letters, most in English, with no idea what any of them said.

I knew it would take me a very long time to sort through them all. I decided not to even look at the letters that contained only a few words. I focused on those where the men had taken the time to write a proper letter, though not a poem. For me, the qualities of the man mattered far more than the country he came from.

I never reopened my ad; it seemed more than I could handle. However, much to everyone’s surprise – mine and the women who worked at the agency – two months later I received a new email from a Canadian man named Joe. His letter immediately stood out to me. We became good friends very quickly. When Joe and I decided to meet for the first time in Moscow, we made no promises to each other. But the moment we met, I instantly saw that he was a true gentleman – a good man who deeply respected me as a woman. I liked that, and in a short time I decided he was the kind of man I wanted to marry. Love wasn’t essential for me, nor expected. I simply wanted a man who would respect his woman, and Joe was perfect.

In less than a year from the time he sent me his first email, he became my husband. One year later, I received my Permanent Residency and moved to Canada. My whole family was in disbelief: I was single at 18, married to a man from Canada at 19, and living in Canada by 20. As soon as I was old enough to do things legally, opportunities started knocking on the door, though I believe I had been trying to open it long before I even found it. My imagined stories were finally unfolding into real life.

I remember back when I was still living in Russia – no computer, no internet access, and with barely any education – I didn’t even know where I was moving. A lady warned me, her voice full of concern, “You know, it’s very cold in Canada! Lots and lots of snow.” My eyes went wide, and I asked in fear, “How cold?” After doing some research, I realized the weather wasn’t much different from where I was living. It just happened that he was from Calgary, Canada. I only started learning about the country I was going to live in after I got married. Looking back, it’s absolutely insane! Going to Canada felt like throwing a dart at a world map and hoping for the best.

I flew to Canada in November. I still remember the shock as the airplane began its descent. I expected to see the Rocky Mountains, or at least a city skyline, but the only things I saw below me were empty, flat, yellow fields, dusted with only a thin layer of snow. Stunned, I whispered to myself, “Where have I come? There’s nothing but flat land. What am I going to do here? This can’t be real! There’s no way back – my ticket is one-way, and I’m married to this man.” I had no clear idea where I was headed. Yet deep inside, I felt something undeniable: I was moving closer to something far greater, something better, and I knew – somehow – it was the right choice.

Looking back, and remembering how young and naïve I was, I realize just how lucky I was to have met such an amazing man. He gave me his love, a beautiful home, and our son. Together, we built a happy family.

I was so immersed in my new life, with my newborn son in my arms, that I quickly stopped communicating with my otherworldly beings, completely forgetting all my unusual encounters. Adulthood pulled me into the outer world, and I became increasingly detached from my inner world.

Everything seemed perfect, yet a hollow emptiness lingered inside me. I remember holding my newborn son in my arms, feeling the weight of his tiny body against me, the softness of his skin, the gentle rise and fall of his chest – and yet, I felt nothing. No surge of love, no bond that everyone said would come naturally. I searched for it desperately, hoping, waiting, but inside there was only a quiet, echoing void. I couldn’t summon the deep, true love everyone talked about. “Why can’t I feel love? He is my son. I must feel it. But where is it?” In that moment, I confirmed to myself that the big powerful love that everyone talks about does not exist, or at least I was not capable of loving anyone.

Then my doctor’s words hit me like a brick: SIDS – babies sometimes die suddenly, without warning. I should be prepared if it happened. Instantly, a wave of fear crashed over me – fear of death, and fear of love. The thought of losing someone I could love so deeply was unbearable. Out of that fear, I kept a part of my heart closed. I loved him cautiously, always thinking, “What if…” because I knew the pain of losing him would be unimaginable.

My husband, our son, and I were a happy family. Not for a single moment did I ever think I had made a mistake or regret marrying Joe, moving to Canada, and having our son. It was one of the greatest decisions of my life. My life in Canada was very different – I always felt accepted and welcomed, no matter where I went or who I met, despite my very limited English at the time.

It felt like my life had just begun. I had to start from the very beginning, like a baby. I had to learn to speak English. I went to school, studied Accounting, and even earned a scholarship for high grades – one I initially threw in the garbage because I thought “Who is really going to give me that kind of money for free?” Until Joe came home and saw the check in the trash. His eyes went wide, “Are you crazy? This is a real check with real money?” I threw it out because just a week before that check arrived, Joe had told me there were a lot of scams in Canada – “There’s no such thing as free money.” he said. And since I had never even heard of scholarships or the idea that you could receive money that way, I assumed it was some kind of scam.

I was simply learning and living an entirely new life in Canada. My life in Russia and my life in Canada were incomparable. In Russia, I had been a ‘lost child’, unable to meet anyone’s expectations – always feeling like a failure. In Canada, I exceeded at everything I touched; every single dream and goal I pursued was achieved. My life felt peaceful. I enjoyed my quiet days with just my husband and my son.

My beautiful life came to a halt in the summer of 2006 when I found myself on my deathbed for the first time – severely ill, yet no doctor of any specialty could help or diagnose me. It was my first wake-up call. But I was living in such a deep sleep that I couldn’t even begin to imagine the true cause of my sudden illness.

My son was just over a year old at the time, and he was the only reason I was fighting for my life. The thought of dying – of leaving him behind and knowing he would grow up without his mother – was a pain beyond anything I could ever describe. My little boy was the one anchoring me here. The pain of not being able to raise him, of not being fully present with him because of my mysterious illness, was eating me alive. I missed out on so many happy memories that a mother should have with her baby boy because all I knew were emergency rooms and my sickness, where no one knew what to do with me, and I had nowhere else to turn.

Since doctors couldn’t find anything medically wrong with me, I was offered anti-anxiety drugs on several occasions. They somehow thought that anti-anxiety drugs would help. Offering a medication without even knowing the problem – an approach that was, to say the least, both strange and baffling.

I refused anti-anxiety medications until I’d exhausted every corner of medicine. After several months, desperate and out of options, I finally took the anti-anxiety drug – even though I knew I didn’t have anxiety or depression. I had a devastating reaction, with dangerous cardiac symptoms. I woke up in the middle of the night as the room began violently spinning. I collapsed onto the floor, and my entire body felt as if it were being doused in acid from the inside out – like my blood and skin were sizzling. My heart tightened like a fist, then released only slightly, staying tight as it raced. I was breathing faster than a dog after an intense run on a hot summer day. My breaths were extremely shallow, rapid gasps – I could barely pull in any air. I literally couldn’t speak.

When my heart finally slowed, I felt like I was being electrocuted – my muscles tightening throughout my entire body, especially my abdomen, pulsing in waves as my whole body trembled. Throughout the entire time during this illness (in 2006), not once was I suicidal or depressed. In fact, it was the opposite – I was fighting for my life because I still had my little son to raise. But after taking just one small dose of an anti-anxiety drug that I believed I didn’t even need and took only out of desperation, I was suddenly hit with an abnormal, foreign urge to kill myself. It felt as if there were two minds inside me: one pushing me toward suicide with a force that was hard to stop or control, and the other – the real me – watching in complete clarity, horrified by how insane and unnatural these thoughts were.

Once I pulled myself together, I took a taxi to the emergency room. There, they told me they’d never seen anything like it, and once again, they had no idea what to do. They gave me some IV medication, told me to never take anti-anxiety drugs again (as if I ever would after what happened), and sent me home.

On the second day after my emergency room visit, I gave up. I was ready to die if it was meant to be – there was nothing left of me; I was less than 100 lbs, I had no mental or physical strengths remaining, and no one to turn to for help. My parents were in Russia, Joe’s parents had passed away, and I had no one close to me except Joe. And even then, it was just me quite often, because he was frequently out of town for work. I went to bed thinking, “I’m ok if I never wake up. I’m ok to die. Dylan [my son] will be taken care of. I trust that everything will be ok.” Just the thought of my son growing up without me – while he was still so small – was tearing my soul apart, but I had to find peace within and accept the worst living nightmare.

I went to bed and fell asleep almost immediately. I woke up eighteen hours later from an uninterrupted, deep sleep. I got out of bed and knew instantly that my health was completely restored, not a single trace of my illness remained. Everything was back to normal. Overnight, all of my symptoms had vanished – as if I had never been ill at all.

I still remember clearly standing beside my bed, tuning into my body, trying to feel and find even a trace of what had been there before – but every symptom was completely gone. My body felt normal and healthy again. The healing was so sudden and mysterious that it felt as if I had just simply awakened from a nightmare. When I was ill, I couldn’t even hold my son; the weakness had spread through my entire body, especially my legs. And now, after just one night, all my strength had returned.

Even though this first mysterious illness only lasted a few months, it left me deeply traumatised. And because I was healed so mysteriously too, without having any answers to what happened, in the back of my mind lived a fear that it could come back at any time.

I searched everything and everywhere, trying to understand what had happened to my body, but there was nothing to find. I tried to make sense of it, but I couldn’t come up with anything.

Somehow, deep within me, I knew this ‘healing’ was temporary – just a pause to restore my strength – because my mysterious illness would return later. How could I have been healed so spontaneously? Maybe I hadn’t been eating well, which caused my illness, but then how could I have recovered so suddenly without changing my diet? Nothing made sense. This experience changed my life. I began studying health, eating a squeaky-clean diet, and living a very healthy lifestyle.

My husband and I always got along, despite being quite different in almost every way. But my severe illness shook my inner world; it truly woke me up, and the drastic changes within forged a greater distance between us. I knew I had to move forward with my life. After seven years of marriage, we separated. Even today, we maintain a good relationship, and I’m truly grateful to him for all he did for me.

I had married young, before I ever had a chance to taste freedom in my adult life. Now my soul wanted to run wild, to feel alive, and I was determined to let it. Except… life had other plans – it was time to draw me into alignment with my true purpose.

On the first night of my freedom, I decided to do something I had never done before. At 9:30 pm I stepped out of the house with the word freedom echoing in my mind, hailed a taxi, and asked the driver to take me to a bar and restaurant in downtown Calgary. The streets were nearly empty, and in less than ten minutes, I stepped out and walked inside, where a host led me to a table by the window.

Only a few minutes later, a man named Bill approached, saying his friend Mark knew everything about the menu, then promptly disappeared. Mark came over, explained his friend’s odd behavior as an excuse to leave, and invited me to join him for a drink at his table.

The next thing we knew, the lights flicked on, and the waitress announced they were closing. We looked around, stunned. “What happened?” we asked. She said it was 2 a.m. – closing time. The bar was empty; we were the only ones left. Had we really been talking that whole time?

It felt as if I had just reunited with someone I had known across lifetimes, catching up on everything we’d missed. There was a strange, undeniable familiarity – a deep sense that I had always known him, even if I couldn’t remember how.

From that moment on, every time I looked at him, I felt a deep knowing, as if I had met him somewhere before. But where? Why couldn’t I remember? Being held in his arms was like coming home – an embrace so warm and safe, it was like sinking into the softest, most welcoming bed, where every worry simply melted away. That profound comfort, and the quiet certainty that our souls had danced together long before, defies any words I could find.

I began to feel love for him, yet I fought against it with all my might. His love only made it harder to resist. For the first time in my life, I felt powerless – unable to stop the love growing between us. I accepted his love and finally admitted to myself that I was truly in love, but I still couldn’t fully open my heart. I loved him with fear and caution, always thinking, “What if? What if he left me? What if he cheated?” I knew I loved him, yet I kept one foot outside, ready to run, bracing for the inevitable pain, never letting myself fully rest in his arms. I longed to surrender, but my heart stayed clenched, frozen by the memory of love turned to suffering.

Despite finding the love of my life and having my son – both true gifts – and following society’s path by fulfilling my parents’ dream of a prestigious job as a financial analyst at a large corporation, something was still missing. I couldn’t find my place in this world. Working sixteen hours a day, rarely seeing daylight, I often thought, “This can’t be it. There has to be something greater – something more meaningful than this small, ordinary life.” Deep down, I knew my life was meant for more than spreadsheets, deadlines, dirty laundry, and rushed dinners – all while on the phone with my son’s teacher because he had thrown a chair at her. Something extraordinary was waiting beyond the walls of my office and the weekends that vanished in the blink of an eye.

I was very successful in what I did and was offered remarkable opportunities, yet many people insisted I was in the wrong field of work. Wherever I went, people would tell me I was born to help others – that I needed to become a doctor. I would always think, “I’ve spent years building my career. I’m not going back to school.” 

But my childhood dream of helping those who suffered – of taking their pain away – never let me go. At first, I entertained the idea of leaving my field as a joke. But the more I thought about it, the more real it became. Soon, it stopped feeling like a joke at all, and I found myself unable to shake it.

In search of fulfillment, I decided to leave behind everything I had built and returned to university to study health and also in hopes to find the answer to what happened to me in 2006 – what made me so sick, and what had caused my spontaneous healing. Despite my ongoing search and conversations with many doctors, no one could explain my sudden and mysterious illness. Over time, I convinced myself it must’ve been my diet and some of the choices I had made. But deep in my heart, I felt something was still missing. It was like a sharp needle lodged in my chest, always there, always making me uneasy.

In September 2016, I earned my Master’s and PhD in Holistic Sports Nutrition, with superior distinction. Holding my certificates in my hands, I couldn’t help but wonder, “Now what?”

This is where my story began – on a bench crying to the universe, asking it to help me so I could help others. Only two months later, in January of 2017, while visiting my parents in Russia, my mysterious illness returned. It was a single ‘wake-up call’ that left me with no escape, no turning back – but to walk the path: stand face-to-face with Death in hell until I could awaken Love in heaven, and enter the prison of the health system that would test every part of me until I could find and remember the truth.

I knew I couldn’t run from it. I knew what I was up against.

There wasn’t going to be another spontaneous healing and there was no pause to press this time. Deep within me, I knew it was time for me to begin my work, yet I had no idea what that work was. When my illness returned, it came back without mercy – as if something was telling me loudly and firmly,

“WALK IT!”

I was so deeply traumatized – knowing very well what I am up against – the unknown, deeply mysterious, and unimaginable illnesses. ‘God knows’ I didn’t want to walk it.

After being a prisoner of the system for over three years, there was only one exit – the only door – and I finally chose to open it and walk through. It was the very door I had avoided my entire life, afraid of being mocked, dismissed, ridiculed, or labeled crazy. I didn’t want to touch it. I didn’t want to open it.

But my collapsing body pressed me forward. And the moment I stepped through, I crossed into a reality far greater than anything I could have expected – or even begun to imagine.

THERE WAS ONLY ONE DOOR

Two months before I suddenly became mysteriously ill – in November of 2016 – I had a dream that I somehow knew wasn’t really a dream. At the time, I had never heard of out-of-body experiences (OBEs), so I simply referred to all such encounters as ‘like a dream.’

Everything in my ‘like a dream’ was unmistakably real, just as real as this world. I awakened on ‘the other side’, being half-carried by one very large man, with several others moving beside us. As my awareness sharpened, I was able to stand on my own, and was led to a large oval table where we all took our seats. One chair remained empty, positioned directly across from me, as if reserved. The men were enormous – ten to twelve feet tall – draped in simple long white robes, each tied at the waist with a woven rope.

I felt the immense power radiating from them, a force that matched their appearance. They didn’t look at me in the ordinary sense; their gaze wasn’t fixed on me directly, but seemed to sweep over my life, seeing me as a whole being far beyond my physical presence. And somehow, without a word, I knew: they were guarding me. I could sense that my life was ‘in their hands’ – not as something they owned or controlled, but as something they protected, watching over me, ensuring that nothing touched my path that wasn’t meant to.

The atmosphere was misty, with no walls, no ceiling, no floor – no sense of distance, space, or time. I looked straight across the table and saw a brilliant, distant white light shining directly at me. It grew larger, approaching me. From within that brilliance, a figure began to emerge, and I quickly realized that he wasn’t just coming from the light – he was the light itself. It was so bright that at first I couldn’t even see who it was.

As this being drew closer, I could see him in greater detail. He was taller than the others – about fourteen feet tall – broader, more powerful, and more authoritative, wearing a simple white robe like theirs, only it radiated far more light. A beautifully woven golden rope was tied around his waist. He sat across from me at the oval table, and in that instant, it felt as though he had been waiting for me all along, as if some unspoken arrangement had brought us together – patient, still, and ready to listen.

I could barely contain myself as I began to speak, my voice full of excitement. I poured out everything – the powers I had discovered as a human, the things I had learned. I was in such a hurry to tell him all of it that my words rushed out, tumbling over one another, and I said,

“I now know how much power I hold inside me. I am a VERY, VERY powerful being. I can create and do so many things here on Earth...”

As I spoke about my understanding of my powers, he felt the full force of my confidence, my excitement, and the sheer, explosive energy behind every word. Then, all at once, he couldn’t contain himself, and burst into a hearty tearful laugh. He even covered his face with his large hand, tilting his head downward, his laughter so intense that it lost its sound. I don’t think I’ve ever made anyone laugh that hard.

The other men wanted to laugh too. Small, forceful bursts of laughter escaped them, but they immediately stifled themselves, holding back because their superior was ready to speak. Their obedience was beyond description – not only to him, but, to my surprise, to me as well.

I thought perhaps he didn’t realize that I truly understood the extent of my power, so once more I tried to convince him that I really did. At that point, he had had enough of my ignorance. He stopped me immediately, speaking firmly, a bit louder, with a voice that radiated immense power:

“You have NO IDEA how much power you have! I had to put seven men around you to protect you and watch you very closely because of the power you carry and still don’t understand.”

He chose to speak no more and fell silent, yet his thoughts surged on – and I was able to access them instantly. They appeared like a tunnel of movement and living images, as if thoughts themselves were alive. Within that stream of thought, I saw my ignorance, the staggering power I held, and the fact that I had no control over it. I also saw, through his thoughts, how my lack of awareness of my powers could cause great harm – not only to myself, but to others as well. I felt like a child holding fire, unaware of the destruction I could unleash.

He recoiled, startled that I had entered his thoughts, cutting them off with abrupt force. In that sudden silence, I sensed there was something far greater – something I wasn’t yet ready to know.

He stood up and began walking back, transforming into pure light once more, laughing again at my own naïve understanding of my powers. I felt like a toddler speaking for the first time, confidently saying the funniest things without realizing it.

At the end, a knowing washed over me, carrying a single, undeniable truth: “She is ready…”

Upon returning to my body and waking up, I found myself wondering, “Ready for what? What are the powers I don’t remember? How much do I truly have – and what am I, really? Why didn’t he want me to know more?” I thought I had learned my powers. Though I didn’t fully realise it at the time, that meeting felt like a checkpoint in my life – a moment that split everything into 'before’ and ‘after.’

I’d had that ‘like a dream’ – really an out-of-body experience, one I now understand was predetermined – just two months before I became mysteriously and inexplicably ill. And now, after finally seeing the obvious – that no medicine could help me with my strange, unique condition – and with every path closed except one, I turned toward the very thing I once dismissed as impossible and even ridiculous.

I turned toward ‘the other side’ – toward everything that had been around me all along, but buried deep in my heart, locked and hidden because I was afraid to touch and awaken it.

I began opening every sense I had: hearing messages, seeing brilliant white lights appearing all around me. For a long time, I refused to believe what I was seeing. All my life, I had wanted to fit in, to be normal, to blend in with everyone else. But in the end, I decided I would rather be called a nut with an extraordinary life than lie bedridden with no life at all – just to be accepted.

My illnesses became so severe that they backed me into an inescapable corner, leaving me with no choice but to finally become who I truly am. For most of my life, because of the way I was raised, I had tied the idea of angels to religion – something I never resonated with – so I denied them completely. To me, angels belonged in children’s stories, nothing more.

But the moment I opened that inner door – even the slightest bit – everything changed. I began seeing lights – brilliant, shifting – appearing all around me. At first, I had no idea what they were. And when I eventually learned that those lights were angels, I fell into a fierce battle within myself, torn between believing what I was witnessing and clinging to the disbelief I’d carried all my life. That inner struggle continued… until one night.

I woke in the middle of the night, my body reacting violently to something I’d eaten, and sleep refused me. The loneliness and crushing sadness engulfed me, pulling me under like quicksand in the heart of a desert. I ached for my mother’s embrace, for the warmth of her love – but she was so far away, across the world in Russia, unreachable.

I had reached the very bottom of my essence. All I wanted, all I could imagine wanting, was to feel and receive love – especially her love – when life felt so empty.

This deep sadness, loneliness, and aching longing for love opened my essence completely, allowing me to embrace the angels fully and purely. For the first time, I desperately wanted to see my angel, to be with it. From the very depths of my heart, with all the intensity I could summon, I called out – asking my angel to be with me, to show me it was real, that it had always been near, that it cared for me, that it loved me. I needed to feel its love, to know I wasn’t alone.

And then, as if answering my call, it appeared. In the dark stillness of my bedroom, suspended in midair, a light blossomed – a brilliance like a star, yet far more radiant, pure, and white. It glowed with warmth, filling the room with its presence.

It began to fall like a star in the night sky – only much slower – and unlike any star, its streak held itself in midair. A thin, straight column of brilliance stretched from the ceiling to the floor, radiating pure, dazzling light from its center. Then, as if taking a gentle breath, it faded… only to return for a brief moment as a spark, a small, star-like flash. (This is how I usually see them – sparkling lights of different colors, each belonging to a different angel.)

The light was unlike anything on Earth. Words fail to describe it. It was drawing me in. I could feel life within it, a conscious presence, vibrant and alive.

That moment went beyond fulfillment. Every scar in my heart was filled with care and love so profound it surpassed all my imagination, all my hope.

Its beauty, its tenderness, its boundless love – indescribable – it left an eternal imprint on my heart. That same feeling of my angel’s care and love still flows within me today.

From that moment on – alongside all the other encounters I was already having with angels each day – I no longer had even a shadow of doubt. Angels were real. They had always been real. And they had been with me for as long as I’d been alive.

Eventually, I learned that the seven large men I’d seen during my out-of-body experience were celestial beings – angels who had been guiding and guarding me every single day, with Archangel Michael as their superior.

I had to fall to the very bottom of my essence before I could finally accept them – and accept their help.

Since many people believe that angels are tied to religion or belong to a particular dogma, I want to make one thing absolutely clear: I am not a religious person. I do not follow anyone’s beliefs, doctrines, or systems. Angels are completely independent beings who belong to no one and nothing. Religion ‘kidnapped’ angels for its own purposes, intentionally deceiving people into believing that angels are part of, or connected with, their religion.

Based on my experiences and the teachings I’ve received from angels, they do not care what someone’s religion or belief system is. They teach unconditional love, which carries zero judgment, and they honor the soul’s choices – whatever those choices may be. Anyone can see them, speak with them, and ask for their help, whether they are religious or not. Believing that angels belong to a religion is simply another man-made idea.

Because of this distorted belief, I denied their existence for most of my life. But religion is a man-made concept, while angels are as real as you are – perhaps even more real, because they are ‘home’ on the other side, fully themselves, while we are temporarily wearing this human body suit to move through life on Earth. They belong to no doctrine and no man-made ideology.

I began questioning everything – the auras I saw as a child, the dead I glimpsed on ‘the other side', angels appearing yet slipping through my doubt, and walking through other existences while I remained on Earth. I drifted in and out of my body, my imagination bending reality in ways I could not yet grasp, sometimes even inviting misfortune. All of it stirred within me, a torrent of mysteries I had carried alone for years.

One of the most striking moments where my thoughts bled into reality happened during a time when I was hypersensitive to absolutely everything. My senses were so heightened I could feel every movement within my body, and every shift in the space around me. And then, this happened…

One morning, I woke up, looked in the mirror, and thought, “I’m getting older.” Instantly, I began to feel the aging process in my body. As I tuned in more closely, I started to sense the actual dying of my cells. Fear gripped me immediately – I was aware that my body was genuinely dying. And the more I focused, the deeper I tuned in, the faster the process seemed to accelerate.

Then it began – the smell. A sickly, unmistakable stench of a corpse decomposing. My stomach churned. I could barely breathe. I looked around the room, desperate, searching for the source. “It must be a dead mouse… something the cat brought in,” I told myself. I even asked my husband to check.

Then it hit me – the smell was coming from me. I was like a walking corpse. Panic surged through me. The more I focused on my body’s death, the faster my cells seemed to succumb; the deeper I tuned in, the quicker they crumbled. I was trapped in a terrifying cycle of awareness and acceleration – watching myself die from the inside out.

I had to learn fast – faster than I ever had in my life – because I realized that if I didn’t, I was going to kill my own body in a matter of minutes with thought alone. So I forced myself to pull away from it. I cut off the spiral. I stopped thinking about death and turned every bit of my focus toward life. I had to believe – wholeheartedly, fiercely – that I was going to live.

And the moment I did, everything shifted.

The corpse-like smell disappeared.

The dying process halted.

My cells seemed to snap back to life, their function restored as if an invisible switch had been flipped inside me.

The entire experience lasted only a few minutes. It had to be short for an obvious reason.

It was through my own decision, my thought, and my intention that the state of my body changed. Just like the love I felt expanding in my chest – love that was, in truth, my own being – if I wanted more of it, all I had to do was turn my focus toward it.

My body revealed – and taught me – the process of illness in countless ways. While our thoughts can create illness, I came to understand that the truth often runs far deeper than mere thought. And when I finally opened myself to my gifts and powers, they appeared with a living presence, almost speaking directly to me: “Where have you been? We’ve been waiting for you. There is so much work to do. The world is waiting for you.”

I slowly began to accept myself – all of my oddities, all the parts I had once hidden – and to live from my heart rather than my adult, reasoning mind. I had been so deeply indoctrinated to believe only what was considered ‘normal’ that unlearning it became a slow and deliberate process.

After discovering my powers, I finally understood why I needed supervision. I realized just how recklessly I’d been using – and wasting – them, with all the grace of a wild animal on an energy drink. I mean, who in their right mind would let a powerful, berserk creature like me wander around unchecked? Frightening doesn’t even begin to cover it.

Since I began using my abilities – doing deep inner work, reprogramming, and allowing myself to fully be – I am no longer afraid of the dead or of death itself, because I understand the truth at its core. I feel calm and comfortable around all presences, for nothing can touch me unless I allow it. This is not mere knowledge; it’s the knowing of who I am and standing fully in my power. At times, I invite the deceased, who may feel to me like a cloud, a thick wind, a magnetic pull, or even a visible form – it depends on both their state of being and mine. Often, they leave me astonishing, chilling evidence of their presence, moments I cherish deeply.

Many years after my encounter with Death and Love, I discovered that countless people have gone through near-death experiences – and many of their stories echoed my own. Still, I couldn’t accept the idea that mine belonged in that category, because I hadn’t crossed that final line. The contradiction unsettled me. Puzzled, I turned to the Source – which is really myself – and asked, “If my experience is so similar to a near-death one, then why didn’t I see a tunnel? Where was my magical afterlife tour? I want the special effects too!” I asked it half-heartedly, half joking, as if tossing the question into the void.

Well, the very next day, my request was answered. I went to bed late – my husband was already asleep. I had barely closed my eyes when something flickered into view. It was moving light, shifting, changing into a spiral. I tried to make sense of it.

Then, all at once, I was pulled forward at tremendous speed through a spiraling motion. Within seconds I realised I was travelling through a tunnel made entirely of brilliant, shimmering light – alive, fluid, constantly rearranging itself.

I shot out into a vast black expanse that exists outside our Universe. Suspended in that darkness were large, water-like droplets – oval, luminous, perfectly formed. Each droplet was a Universe. Ours was only one among countless others. I watched them all, fully present inside that infinite field. Everything was as real, sharp, and vivid as waking life. I was entirely there, yet simultaneously still here – once again split between two worlds at the same time.

When the experience finally ceased, I felt a warm, playful whisper ripple through me: “There you have it. Anything else you’d like to see or know?”

Over time, I came to learn and witness people being healed by love alone. So if unconditional love is truly the force that heals all wounds, that mends souls and reshapes bodies, the most potent power in all existence – then why didn’t it heal me when it held me, wrapping around me like a mother holding her baby? Others touched that realm, died, returned – and came back restored. So why not me? What was missing? What hid in the blind spot of all that brilliance? Hadn’t my childhood traumas of Death and Love already been resolved? What more could I do? What else do I need to understand? What else could possibly heal me?

After two and a half years, I finally moved out of my own way. I stopped chasing health, and instead fully surrendered to who I truly am and let the essence of my soul take the lead. For the first time, I allowed myself to simply be. But this surrender set in motion a chain of events that brought me to tears, as I finally remembered – and recognized – the deep, hidden cause of my sudden and mysterious illness.

WAKING UP & REMEMBERING

After accepting myself, and walking the path of my soul, my memories of who I am, why I am here, and where I came from started to return to me.

It began just after my first self-initiated OBE, where I stepped out of bed and walked to a massive window that spanned the entire wall. As I stood there – having my awareness here in this world, while being entirely connected and stretched into the infinity of ‘the other side’ – I heard a voice. The Source spoke through the vastness of all that is, in the most loving, gentle, boundless tone I had ever known:

“Welcome back home.”

I stood still, drinking in everything I was sensing and seeing – beyond the limits of the physical world we know. For the first time, I had finally found the home I had been seeking my entire life. It was a true coming home; every part of me had returned. In that moment, I realized I had always been home – I never left, only forgotten. An eternal, immeasurable peace, beyond all description or words, filled every fibre of my being.

For so long, I searched for my home – only to discover it was never lost. My home is not on Earth, yet I have never truly left it. It lives within me, the very source of who I am. I could never be apart from it, for it is the essence that breathes through all that I am.

I had simply forgotten – forgotten my origin, my truth. But my home has always been here – unchangeable, eternal – quietly waiting for me to remember.

No gate keeps me from returning. I can go home whenever I choose – by will alone – either by leaving the physical body without bringing death to it, or by entering the stillness within and attuning to my eternal state of unconditional love. We all can. No one has ever been truly separated from their home; separation is an illusion, for in truth, distance has never existed.

Home has never been far. It has always been here – within us – waiting to be remembered once more.

In time, I recalled my earthly life agreement and its purpose, and even the memories of how it was offered to me and why I chose to accept it.

Before coming to earth for this life, I remember being on ‘the other side’ when an immense, radiant light was approaching me. In that instant, I knew who they were – a group of Archangels and other angelic beings. They came to me, their voices unified in perfect harmony – a single current of light carrying this message to me (Please note, it was not spoken to me in words, so I’m trying my best to put their message in human spoken language),

“We have an important role for you – to bring Heaven to Earth by awakening people to who they truly are, to the deeper truths of life, health, and inner peace. They must remember their essence, their true home, for real healing comes from within, from the power of their own soul. The human body has been so deeply imbalanced that only the will of the soul can restore it.

It is in the moment of their awakening that true healing begins. You will guide them to shift their state of being, to awaken the heaven within, and to let it shine outward into the world. Their renewed health, their vitality, will flow naturally from this awakening, this remembrance, and the transformation of their being.

Many souls have already been sent, and many more are yet to go, each carrying their own sacred role. As for the role we are offering you – this human experience will demand an unbreakable strength of soul.

Your soul is very strong and powerful. You possess all the qualities needed for what lies ahead – especially your gift of infectious peace and your ability to find light even in the darkest of places. These qualities are essential for the life and work that await you.

This life has already been designed. If you are ready, you may see it now.”

I was shown my potential earthly life. I was able to ‘taste’ it, dipping deep into any experience I chose, and live it, feel it as if I was having the experience for real. I remember my vastness and seeing and feeling millions of souls’ tyranny and great suffering, which brought so much pain to my soul that I wanted to jump into it right there and take all of their pains away, to let them know that they’re all loved and there is a great peace that already exists within them, but they couldn’t see it, they’ve simply forgotten. Their pains were tearing my soul apart. It was like being in eternal hell. How could I then stay in my heaven, be in heaven’s state, enjoy myself and be at peace while so many souls are in great suffering? I couldn’t. I saw how me coming to earth and doing my part of the greater work would help so many people. I wanted to absorb all of humanity’s pains and then neutralise it all with the force of my unconditional love towards them all. But I also saw that this torment would continue no matter how much I absorb it because people themselves were creating this hell with their own state of being. Right then and there I knew that if I don’t help humanity, this pain would eat me for eternity.

As I was viewing my potential life, I felt all of my own earthly pains – the struggles I would have to endure in order to help all those suffering souls. I clearly saw that the only way I could truly help was to come to Earth and guide people to remember what they have forgotten because only the soul can save itself and no one else. The soul itself must do all the work, awakening to and remembering its divinity. Out of my unconditional love for other souls, I agreed to endure all my mysterious illnesses, symptoms, and physical and mental pains.

I didn’t care how much pain I would have to endure, for I knew who and what I am. The pain of not helping those who suffer would have been far greater than any temporary earthly pain. My love for humanity was – and still is – unconditional, vast, and immeasurably stronger than my deepest agony. I was ready to walk through any darkness, to face any challenge, to fulfill the work I came to do.

It was never a question of whether I should take part in the great work to be done on Earth – I knew I must go. Had I refused, I would have carried a weight of unbearable pain and regret. That pain – the cry of my soul – became the seed of my illness. The missing piece was fulfilling my soul’s purpose. I still carry its echo within me, a reminder that my work here is not yet complete.

After remembering who I am, why I came here, and the memories from before my birth, everything made sense:

“How could I ever guide and help another soul in pain without first having walked through the unimaginable depths of physical and emotional suffering myself – those agonies that gnaw at life and slice the soul until it ‘bleeds’, leaving you certain you cannot go further?

How could I lead others to their peace, to transform their living hell into a living heaven on Earth, unless I had already journeyed through the same darkness and found my own light?”

To truly understand human suffering, I had to walk through it myself. I had to experience humanity’s greatest fear – Death. I also had to experience the complete absence of Love – the force we lost and forgot long ago – to feel the emptiness within my heart, and to truly feel the pain that comes from the lack of love. Only then could I see for myself how much suffering the illusion of death and the absence of love can bring into a life.

I had to endure countless gut-wrenching and mysterious health challenges – some deeply bizarre, and at times, standing on the very edge of life. Now, I deeply understand and feel their pain – what it’s like to have extreme chronic fatigue, seizure episodes, severe food sensitivities, unexplainable severe anxiety, depression, hallucinations, heart problems, being suicidal due to various causes, mysterious pains, PTSD, POTS, CIRS, heavy dependence on medications with no way out, brutal withdrawal, uncontrollable weight loss, the inability to raise my child, the psychological torment of nearly losing one’s mind, and so much more. I have lived through it all.

There were many days when I wanted to leave this earth. But it was my young son, and the deep knowing in my heart that everything was unfolding for a greater reason, that I had a purpose to fulfill here that kept me moving forward.

I had to feel and fully understand the suffering that others carry. I had to uncover and remember the absolute truth of human health – free from man-made distortions – which is why I could take nothing from any external source. I had to remember my own power and use it to heal myself, so that one day I could awaken and guide others to do the same.

I realised that in order to give something to others, you must have it yourself first. Angels weren’t around me to do my work for me. If angels healed me with their ‘miracle angelic dust’, I would have nothing to teach people. What would I say… “Powerful angelic beings came to me to heal me and that’s my secret?” No, I had to do the work that any ordinary person could do to heal themself. I came to earth to live as a human – just like everyone else – yet carrying enough remembrance to teach what truly matters.

Sometimes it still shocks me to know and feel that my body is alive, whole, and vibrant after all it has endured. Yet once you understand the truth behind it all, the shock disappears. From a conventional, scientific point of view, I am a walking miracle and mystery. But from the truth, healing was always inevitable. Fulfilling my life’s purpose, and being fully myself, expressing my authenticity, is what gives life and health back to my physical body.

Today, I know without a doubt that what I prayed for in October 2016 was exactly what I came here to do. That prayer was my soul’s quiet calling: “I’m ready.” Only a month later, my destined encounter with Archangel Michael confirmed it – “She is ready.” It meant I was prepared to walk the path my soul had chosen: through the fear of hellish Death to the embrace of heavenly Love, mysterious chronic illnesses, and unspeakable symptoms. When I cried out, “I’m done! It’s enough! What is it that you want?” it was the moment I truly awakened – I was finally ready to remember who I am and begin my soul’s work in fulfilling my life’s purpose.

If you were to take only one message from my story, then remember this:

“Each of us carries a unique life’s purpose, nestled deep within the heart – waiting to be remembered and fulfilled here on Earth. When we disconnect from our heart and its guidance, shutting down our essence and straying from our path, life begins to ache. The body weakens, the soul becomes restless, and we find ourselves wandering through a living hell of our own making.

But when we return to the heart, everything realigns. Within it lives our eternal essence – the keeper of our blueprint, our truth, and the path we came to walk. Walking our unique soul’s path is an act of honoring our authenticity – and that is the truest expression of self-love. So listen, gently, to the whispers within your heart. They are not just your voice – they are the echo of your soul calling you home, guiding you to remember what has long been forgotten.”

Before my illnesses, I believed I knew it all. I had studied health in various schools, devoted my life to athletics, fasting, and maintaining a perfectly clean diet. But during my life-changing healing journey, I realized how little I truly knew once everything was taken from me – when all that remained was my soul and a body in pain.

With empty hands and nothing external left to hold on to, I had no choice but to awaken the power within me. It was through that sacred union of surrender and remembrance that wholeness returned – body and soul singing in one harmonious voice.

Today, I can’t help but laugh – just as Archangel Michael once did – when I remember telling him that I already knew my powers. It’s humbling… and beautifully ironic.

Did I regain all my powers?

Absolutely not. But I regained more than enough to heal myself. I could certainly regain them fully, but that would require dedicating my entire life to achieve it, and that was not the reason I was sent to Earth.

We never truly know what we’re capable of until life strips us bare – down to the bone – and corners us with no way out. Only then, when every door closes and all that remains is our will to live, are we forced to awaken the powers within us to heal, even when it feels impossible, even absurd. But what do you do when all medicine fails… and it’s not your time to die? Only your soul remembers and truly knows how to live a healthy, fulfilled life.

Before I accepted myself and began my true work, not for a single moment did I believe I could heal – especially from something as severe as what I faced. No one could have convinced me that I was capable of overcoming my extreme food sensitivities and countless other health challenges. I truly believed that I needed a doctor, a new scientific breakthrough, something external to repair what felt so broken – because surely, a complex problem required a complex solution.

How wrong that belief was. It led me through years of trauma, debilitating treatments, and pharmaceutical dependencies so unbearable that I wished for death more than once.

But now I understand: I had to become that version of myself first. I had to live through it all, to feel the depth of human struggle, so I could gain the wisdom and compassion necessary to fulfill my soul’s purpose.

But I still questioned myself, “Why did it take me so long to wake up?”

I thought deeply and realized that my greatest barriers were fear of the unknown, doubt in myself, and the fear of being ridiculed. No one came to say, “Do it this way, and you will be healed.” I had to discover what true FAITH, TRUST, and PATIENCE really mean – and though I faced many low days, I had to hold them within me so firmly that no trace of doubt could remain.

Other barriers included the fear of losing my identity – an identity that was never truly mine – the fear of abandoning beliefs that were man-made and artificial, and the pressure to fit in, to appear ‘normal’, just to be accepted. But accepted by whom, and according to whose rules, following whose beliefs? By people who themselves were seeking validation and acceptance, too afraid to fully be themselves, clinging tightly to their indoctrinations. Humans have a tendency to follow the crowd – to go along with the line and question nothing – and far less often do they listen to those who are truly unique, original, and have proven results, and who, for that very reason, may be called crazy. Yet every human is inherently unique, and only by embracing that uniqueness can one truly express the fullness of who they are.

Quite often, we suffer because we deny the full expression of our true essence, and the unique authenticity that belongs to each of us. This denial chains our soul, silences its voice, and keeps us from living in the health, joy, and true happiness that come from being fully ourselves.

The world’s man-made systems are deliberately complex, creating such chaos within the human mind that people no longer trust themselves or hear the wisdom of their own souls. Instead of turning inward for answers – the place where truth already exists – they place all their faith in what lies outside of themselves. Little by little, humanity has handed its trust over to these systems. As a result, we lose sight of the most obvious truths – truths that echo quietly within us.

Humanity has forgotten its origin – who we are, where we are, and why we are here. We live inside an illusion built from beliefs expertly and subtly fed to us, and we accepted them all without question. Without realizing it, humans have become unconscious magicians, using their own power against themselves.

After having these truths in my hands and remembering my origin – who I am, where I am, why I am here, and my true home – I saw my health and my life with the clarity of an eagle’s eye, far above all the confusion and chaos, watching the mud of struggle settle into stillness, becoming crystal-clear water, revealing the truth beneath: none of it was random. The very people, challenges, and circumstances I once questioned had been perfectly arranged so that my path could unfold exactly as it did. I realized that even my suffering was only possible because of the foundation laid long before I was born.

The events of my childhood remain unchanged, yet the story they tell is no longer the same. What follows is the childhood I now see with awakened eyes – the story as it truly was.

‘THANK GOD’ I WAS BORN

This is my revised story of childhood, a perfect example of a blessing in disguise.

Being born in Russia, and into that specific family, was neither an accident nor a mistake – it was a well-orchestrated path I wholeheartedly agreed to walk. Every moment was perfectly played out, and I am eternally grateful for it all – even the darkest days. I hold deep love for everything my parents gave me and for every experience I lived through while growing up in Russia. I was never cursed; I was only blessed.

If not for my father, I would never have had the experiences I required. He gave me everything I needed to become who I am today. I am deeply grateful for all that he gave – and for all that he did not. Through the pain he brought, I was forged; the fear of Love he planted became my compass, guiding me back to my essence and teaching me how to transform my own hell into a true heaven. By facing the twin shadows of Death and Love, I have grown stronger, greater, more whole. The gift he has been to me surpasses any words in this world – I love everything he is, and my heart is full with his love.

He gave me the life I have today – a life lived in inner peace, love, joy, and a deep understanding of why I’m here on Earth. Yes, he made mistakes, but who am I to judge? I’ve made plenty of my own mistakes, any of which could boil me forever if I let them. He is still a beautiful soul who cared for me when I was a little girl, and now, decades later, he still lights up with happiness when we speak on video calls. With my awakened eyes all I see is his love and care for me and for everyone else in our family. If he had given me everything in a perfectly gentle way, I would never have discovered, learned, or experienced the true powerful force of unconditional Love in the way I did, and I absolutely love the way I discovered it. My father gave me exactly what I needed to experience what I came here for. He is the catalyst who propelled me to find deep peace within myself and to remember true unconditional love.

My older brother’s rejection of me began with his separation from our mother soon after his birth. As a newborn, he didn’t receive the care and love he desperately needed, and this early wound planted a deep belief within him that our mother did not love him as much as she loved me. When I was born, I wasn’t hospitalized like he had been, so I received all the attention and nurturing he had missed. Seeing our mother give me the care he longed for created feelings of jealousy, pain, and rejection toward me.

His trauma took root at birth – far beyond his awareness or memory. How could I judge or withhold love from someone who couldn’t possibly understand what happened to him when he was so small? Long before he was born, he knew of this challenge and accepted it, and that became another hidden blessing for me – he gave me the pain I needed to grow.

Trauma can begin as early as the womb or in the first moments after birth. Who can remember or make sense of anything at that stage? Only a few people recall their time in the womb or their earliest days of life. Today, I understand this fully, and my compassion for him runs deep. He carried pain so that I could evolve. I love him endlessly.

After I recognized this truth and felt pure love for him in my heart, he contacted me the very next day to say “Happy Birthday” – something he had never done before. We hadn’t spoken in years. Coincidence? Absolutely not. We are deeply connected to everything through our heart; we’ve simply forgotten. And in that forgetting, so many of us live in unconscious chaos that leads to suffering that feels like living hell.

However, our suffering is never misfortune or wasted time; when we shine our light upon it, we see only growth and the unfolding of greatness. My mother endured immense pain, yet I have no doubt that her struggles served her in their own way – and witnessing her suffering shaped me in exactly the way I needed. Her suffering planted the seed of my fear of death – one of the greatest fears of humanity. But facing Death reminded me of who I truly am – the power that I am, which can never be touched or destroyed. Life has no errors, only hidden blessings waiting in plain sight – the fire that molds and transforms us. It’s our perception that shapes our history and not the events themselves.

I am deeply grateful to her for everything she gave, even for the moments when the world seemed to fall apart beneath my feet. She is the most beautiful of mothers, giving me all her love, tenderness, and care despite all she faced. Her persistence and her belief that I was a ‘normal child,’ that I did not belong in any special school, saved me from a life lost to misunderstanding. I am deeply grateful for her faith in me. I love her deeply, and my heart is filled with compassion for all she endured. Failing to see the greatness in her suffering would dishonor her journey and overlook its deeper purpose. But it is not to say, “Thank God she suffered.” Rather, it is to find the light in the darkness.

For a long time, my parents believed that my last visit to Russia had made me sick, and it weighed heavily on them. Imagine your child coming home only to fall terribly ill – how devastating it is for a parent to think their child can’t even be home without suffering. From a limited perspective, it was easy to assume that my trip had caused it all.

But that wasn’t the cause. It wasn’t my childhood trauma, my family, or Russia. My cause extends far beyond this world - it was the contract I agreed to before I was born. Nothing and no one could have changed the direction my health – and ultimately my path – needed to take.

At first, I didn’t think I’d survive, let alone make sense of any of it. When I finally began to see the truth, I thought, “What kind of idiot would sign up for experiences this horrific?!” And yet, by the end, I found myself saying, “How fortunate I am to experience a life as beautiful as this. The growth it gave me is immeasurable, and who I’ve become will remain with me for eternity.” Would I do it again? Absolutely – without hesitation – because I know who I am and what the purpose of this life truly is.

All the pains of my early life were gifts that shaped me into who I always longed to become. My delayed language development, poor comprehension, and being considered scholastically ‘not so bright’ were not deficiencies but beautifully designed supports for my growth. They kept me from getting pulled too deeply into the outer world and instead guided me inward – to observe people’s energies, to feel, and to learn in ways no school could ever teach. Most importantly, they helped me stay close to my heart, to the guidance of my own essence.

Much later in life, I realised that very little truth is taught in traditional education. The world we are shown is far from what it truly is. ‘Thank God’ I couldn’t absorb their garbage – what a blessing it was to be unable to learn it. The deeper truths were never in a pill or a surgery; they lived in everything I could already see as a child – the nonphysical realm where all is in plain sight.

However, I needed to be pulled away from the inner world so I could fully experience an ordinary human life. But it was never meant to stay that way. Eventually, my body forced me to wake up, withdraw my attention from the outer world, and pull me back into my inner world – as if it were saying, “That’s enough. It’s time to do our work.”

At first, I resisted like a child refusing food, until life closed my nose and left me no choice but to open my mouth – and to my surprise, it was tasty. Now my life feels like that first bite of a ripe tropical fruit: sweet, alive, and utterly blissful.

My heart and soul came to a complete alignment, where I no longer must chase health or a fulfilled life – because I am already everything I have ever wished to be.

I fled Russia to find peace, love, and a sense of belonging, my home. I have finally found them all – they’re in my heart; I am that peace, I am that love, and I’ve never left my home.

Every moment of my life is a fortune – from laughter to sorrow. I’m blessed to live this life. Life is a true gift to experience and cherish for eternity, and I can’t help but fall in love with it.

What an unforgettable life my parents gave me. I will forever be grateful for every tear and every burst of laughter – for the chance to live this extraordinary story. In my darkest days, I wished only to die or to have never existed at all. Now I say with a full heart,

“‘Thank God’ I was born!”

My journey to health felt like shedding layers of heavy illusion – the weight I once believed I needed to survive. At first, all I sought was health – but in the process, I discovered something far greater: a truth that reached beyond the body and touched the very essence of my being, awakening a life where heaven resides.

What began as a desperate search for physical health became the awakening of my soul – a remembrance of what it truly means to live in heaven, here on Earth.

LIVING IN HEAVEN ON EARTH

My experiences with Death and illnesses became the greatest blessings of my life – a gift I will cherish for eternity. They taught me how to find and hold my inner peace no matter what is happening around me and within my physical body. They showed me how to feel and express heaven’s true unconditional love toward all that exists. It taught me not to fear the darkness, but to walk into it and shine my light until all becomes light. It taught me faith, trust, patience, and a deep belief in myself.

For the first time, I saw and felt everything – within me and around me – as an eternal heaven. I became the vessel of that heaven, needing nothing beyond myself.

Over time, as I used my inner power to heal myself, my body began to mirror my state of being. It became resilient, calm, strong, healthy, and obedient to me. For the first time, I became the true master of the servant – the master of my physical body. Now, I feel my presence fully within it. My senses extend far beyond this physical world, while my body remains calm, steady, and well balanced.

Before that, staying well felt like trying to push a broken, rusted truck up a steep hill. I was desperately trying to reach the top of a hill that the world’s system had built, convinced – like so many others – that their methods and medications were the only path to health. It took heartbreak, suffering, and a kind of exhaustion I can barely describe to finally see that this path was never meant for me.

Here on Earth I am a simple human being just like yourself, with the same level of powers, no more or less than what you have. I know what it takes to get off my knees and find every last ounce of strength within myself, because I was there – broken and kneeling, drenched in my own tears, begging for help and healing. No angelic being with their immense powers (and they do have them) came to rescue me or do my work for me. In truth, they literally stepped back and watched me suffer, waiting for my awakening. Every part of it had been set in motion before my birth so I could find all the strength within myself, remember who I am, do my work, and use my own power to heal my body. I had to do all the work myself so that I could later teach it to others.

We think we’re helping when we create comfort for a suffering person, but often we’re interfering with their evolution and unintentionally delaying their growth. We soften the very experiences meant to awaken their strength and potential.

Essentially, we can end up destroying the very thing we love most, all while wishing it ‘all the best’. I am not saying we should withhold help from those who are suffering; rather, we must approach it with care, mindful of both what we give and how we give it. True help arises from a place of ‘for the greater good’, and it may – or may not – be comforting.

True unconditional love isn’t gentle or a ‘sugar puff on a white cloud’. It is the most powerful force in existence – piercing through anything, and impossible to destroy. And because of its strength, it can move through anything and dismantle everything, even the things we love most.

Humanity rarely understands this unconditional love, the Source of all things. When the soul leaves the body, it can touch that love directly. Its power is so real, so dense, it feels almost solid. I experienced this during one of my out-of-body journeys.

My pain was not punishment, but a way to awaken me and give me the experiences I needed to fulfill my purpose. My suffering was my own choice, and my doctor was there only to trigger that awakening – and I’m endlessly grateful to him for doing his part.

We come to Earth out of love. What may appear as cruelty – causing someone pain – can, from a higher perspective, be precisely what is needed to push them beyond their comfort and into something far greater. Pain drives us inward, and it is within that space that we finally find the peace and love we have been seeking our whole lives.

Pain is a gift while suffering is a self-imposed hell. This hell will continue for as long as people allow themself to suffer. We do not have to experience pain to awaken to the truth of all things and who we really are. Unfortunately, most people are in such a deep sleep that the only way to awakening is through pain.

Pain comes not to punish us, but to awaken us to our true essence. It is an opportunity to grow beyond even our deepest wounds. As long as we perceive our pain as punishment, we will remain trapped in suffering, imprisoned within our own hell – until we awaken to the greater wisdom in all of our experiences, even the most painful ones.

This one simple truth may piss many religious people off, but I’m not here to support false beliefs that instill fear or blind comfort. I’m here to speak the truth and here it is: hell, as a place, does not exist. No one can be sent there or banished to suffer for eternity.

Hell is a state of being, whether experienced here on Earth or on ‘the other side’ after death. We create our own hell and we imprison ourselves within it. When someone dies and encounters what they describe as hell, what they’re actually experiencing is their own inner state of being – their fears, their unresolved pain, their own consciousness mirrored back to them.

‘The other side’ is highly responsive to thought and to one’s state of being, and it is very real. I’ve seen and lived through hell, both in this life and beyond – and I’ve also transformed that hell into heaven in both realms. I speak from direct, first-hand experience.

No angelic being or master showed up to save me from my hell, and this was for a far greater purpose: so I could learn and understand what heaven truly means, how to bring it to Earth, and how to live within it. That’s what true unconditional love looks like – not, “Oh you poor thing, let me save you”, but allowing the soul to awaken and save itself. Only then can it recognize the immeasurable strength and growth within. This is precisely where our life’s greatest possibilities reside – within our own courage and resilience. Only when we move beyond our greatest fears and fully express our soul do we discover everything we’ve been seeking: health, peace, and fulfillment.

This truth applies to heaven as well. Heaven is not a reward to be earned – it is not a fixed destination where those who ‘pass judgment’ are sent. Heaven is a state of being. Through my own experiences – both here on Earth and on ‘the other side’ – I’ve discovered that it is we who create heaven within ourselves. Our inner state shapes the world around us, and only when we awaken to this truth do we truly experience heaven enveloping us. No one is sent there, no one is judged worthy or unworthy, because such a place does not exist outside of ourselves. If we long to experience heaven, we must become it. We are the source.

If angelic beings had rescued or healed me, it would have undone the very purpose of my life and the work we came here to do. Miraculous or divine intervention was never meant to be part of my path. Everything unfolded exactly as it needed to.

I was not meant to be healed by heaven’s love alone – I had to walk my soul’s path. I had to forge peace within myself, in every corner of my life. I had to outgrow my pain, surpass my fear, and rise beyond my darkest hell until I became heaven. Only then could I guide others.

I had to awaken myself, save myself, and restore my own body.

I play the human game by the same rules you do, with no more and no fewer powers than anyone else. I came into this life as an ordinary human to show that anything is possible – and that health and heaven are not reserved for the chosen few; they can be created by anyone willing to do the work.

We are all heavens. Those who wish to experience it must awaken and remember their pure, undiluted essence.

When we expect someone else to bring peace or health into our lives, we confine ourselves and hand over our power to the outside world. Illness, like any great challenge, can either forge us into something far greater than we ever imagined, or turn us to dust.

Run from the light and your shadow becomes your path. Turn towards the light – your essence – and your shadow falls behind you.

So, what will you do with the gift you’ve been given? What will you carry into eternity – the weight of opportunities never taken, or the fire of courage that transforms even your deepest pain into something greater? Will you dance with the flame and become a single, radiant expression of life, or resist, creating only more wind, sparks, and chaos? The way we choose to see our life, the lens through which we view our health, can immerse us in fear – or cradle us in peace – silently shaping the path that unfolds before us. The choice has always been, and will always be, ours.

Know that your greatest life’s pain is your ticket to your dream life. What is your greatest pain and what is your dream? Only when you do the outrageous, will you be shown the way.

But remember this: true freedom is not found in what we do, but in the state of being we hold within. When we awaken to this truth and honor the divine purpose of our lives, health, vitality, and joy arise naturally – like a wave gliding through the ocean, moving with perfect ease and without resistance.

It is an illusion to believe that health resides in foods, supplements, or exercise. If it did, neither I nor the thousands who nourished themselves well and cared for their bodies with diligence would have fallen ill. These things can support us, yes – but they are not the keys. True health, and heaven, exist beyond the physical world, yet they live closer to us than our own breath.

Through my healing journey, I came face-to-face with the true origin of human disease. I discovered what genuinely creates health and uncovered the deepest truths of who I am, why I am here, and where I am going when my physical body’s story comes to an end. Without embracing these simple, fundamental truths, I would have remained lost and sick – there is no question about it.

Understanding them allowed me to reclaim my power. By living these timeless truths, I healed from the inside out. I no longer fear the unknown; when questions arise, I reach for the truth that remains unmoved as everything else rises, falls, and changes.

I no longer wait for medicine to find the answers – I find them myself. I don’t eat to prevent imagined illness; I eat for the joy of being alive. And yes, I now eat whatever I desire, with no concern for histamine levels or any other restrictions. I exercise out of respect for my body and to feel good, not out of fear of extra weight. I live fully, with true joy, even when the sky is falling, because I know who I am and what this life really is. I know there are no bad times, only the richest opportunities for growth.

I am free – free of doctors, medications and their side effects, endless appointments and tests, outrageous medical expenses, and the anxious hope that something might help me. My health is the result of living fully in the expression of my true authenticity, and through this freedom, I carry a resilience that cannot be destroyed. I share this not to boast, but to show that, armed with immutable truth, proper intention, focus, discipline, and action, anyone can achieve extraordinary results.

Today, I dedicate myself to the work I was called to do, living in the fullness of my power, peace, and purpose - a life that feels like a bite of heaven, yet one that will last for all eternity.

The reality is harsh: much of the knowledge essential to true health is missing from medical schools, alternative healing programs, and even the most revered wellness retreats.  The vast majority of health professionals – far more than we’d like to believe – remain unaware of these fundamental truths. And these truths are not optional; they are the very bedrock of true health and the possibility of heaven on earth.

Humanity has been quietly molded into lifelong repeat customers – obedient, unaware, and unquestioning. We’ve been led to believe that healing must come from outside of ourselves – an illusion that keeps us disempowered, dependent, and blind to the immense power that has always been ours.

No wonder so many of us are chronically ill, trapped by total dependence on the health system. We imprison ourselves with the beliefs we cling to. To unleash our full healing potential and live in peace, we must let go of these false beliefs. Unfortunately, most people would rather die than change their mindset. It is a tragic truth.

I was no exception. I believed that healing had to come from the outside – that all answers lay in doctors’ hands, and if they couldn’t fix me, I was doomed. Countless times, I had been pointed toward the truth, toward the right direction, but I turned away, trapped by my own conventional beliefs, my fear, and my need for proof…

“Me? Doing that? Have you lost your mind lady?

Do you want me to believe that if I swing my hands around my body, it’ll magically heal itself?

And you want me to believe in WHAT? Archangel Michael is right next to me?

Even if he was real, who am I for an Archangel to come to me? I’m an invisible little person to the world who couldn’t even speak until I was four years old, and barely learned 1+1 at school.”

… that was my attitude.

My lifetime of experience with health – and the journey of transforming a living hell into a living heaven – has grown so vast and deep that it could never fit into a single small book. This story is meant to reach as many hearts as possible, to show that health, peace, and a heavenly life are not only possible, but within our grasp. I know how fleeting human life truly is. Soon, I will return home, but while I am here, I will serve beautiful humanity in the best way I can. I have witnessed the depths of suffering, the illusions that hold us captive, and the immense power that lies within every human being. I have felt the fragility of life and the fleeting beauty of each moment. And now, with my heart fully awake, I see all of you – every soul striving, every heart longing, every life reaching for what has long been forgotten: Love. I love you – not in a passing, human way, but with the full depth of my being. I love you more than my own comfort. I LOVE YOU with all my heart and soul!

As my healing journey came to its close, a presence surrounded me – vivid, radiant, and beyond description. My angels shared an important message:

“Now that you remember who you truly are, why you came here, and carry the wisdom of all you have lived, you are ready. The next chapter of your soul’s life story awaits – a path of guiding others to health, inner peace, and a heaven-on-earth life. Step forward, and let your essence lead the way.”

MY MISSION

My soul’s mission is to bring heaven to earth, illuminate the bridge that connects the two, and reconnect the human heart with its soul.  But it is not done in the way you might expect.

Let me be clear: though my mission may sound religious or biblical, it has nothing to do with any scripture or man-made belief. I do not spread fear, nor do I threaten anyone with hell. My work is to reveal the unchanging core truth of all existence: unconditional love, the source of everything.

I’m no ‘almighty hero of light’, capable of turning this living hell into a Garden of Eden by myself. This work is not mine alone. Countless beings on the other side guide heaven toward Earth, awakening humanity to the truth of all things. Many souls have been handed their script and sent here to fulfill their part in this great work. Each of us has a role to play.

My experiences gave me every tool I would need to fulfill the part I had been called to play. Today, I teach the fundamental truth of human health and existence. I awaken people to who they truly are – to the truth of their essence, to the infinite power they carry, and to the way that power shapes their health and their life. I show them how to transform their living hell into a living heaven, within and around them, so they can experience inner peace and true heaven in every moment – here in this world and beyond it. The time has come: to free souls from their prisons.

It is my honour and deepest desire to do this work to the utmost of my ability, guiding those who seek inner peace, vibrant health, and a life lived in heaven on Earth.

THANK YOU

I want to thank you for reading my true story! I hope it opened your eyes to things you thought were never possible. From all my heart to yours, I wish you a life full of the greatest joys that you will want to cherish for your eternity.

I want you to know that you’re always loved and are never alone. Your pure divinity that is within your heart is much larger than the earth’s oceans, it’s immeasurable. I am truly grateful for you reading my story, and I hope it helped you in some way.

If my story touched you, or inspired you, or at the very least entertained you, I invite you to share it with those you feel might also appreciate it... please send them this book, or ask them to visit theillnessthathealedme.com. We never truly know what’s going on in people’s lives, and perhaps my story will speak to them in a way that connects with them.

Thank you for being part of this journey with me. With love, Olga.

MORE INFORMATION

Any illness or pain is an invitation to a far greater life than we ever imagined. With this perspective, I invite you to discover the deeper truths of human health and existence. There is no turning back – only moving forward from this moment onward. And to experience extraordinary results, we must be willing to embrace the change within.

“How does one become a butterfly?

You must want to fly so much that

you are willing to give up being a caterpillar.”

Trina Paulus

The following books are the result of my lived experiences. They’re written in simple language because truth is simple. The health system most people rely on has conditioned us to believe that health is complicated or unpredictable – like rolling dice. This is not true. Our health is neither complex nor at the mercy of random or accidental events.

This false belief has been etched so deeply into people’s minds that many stop searching for answers and rely entirely on what authority tells them. But the truth is ready to be known, and it begins with understanding the fundamentals.

Some of what you read may make your hair stand on end; some may challenge or dismantle old beliefs. But all of it is offered for one purpose: to help you reclaim full control over your health – and your life.

Books:

How to Get Rid of IBS, Allergies, Sensitivities, Leaky Gut & Adrenal Fatigue - FREE - I chose to share this particular topic because there are a lot of people with gut issues and sensitivities that follow all sorts of programs, but get little if any results. This is not your typical “take this supplement and eat these foods” guide, this is based on my true and real results. This book is perfect for those who love science and prefer to see some scientific evidence.

Miss Diagnosis – Over 140 pages, or 4 hours of audio – reveals the hidden truths behind chronic illness, mysterious symptoms, and misdiagnoses. Drawing from both scientific evidence and lived experience, this book uncovers the real causes that often mimic well-known diseases, leading to confusion, ineffective treatments, unnecessary suffering, and the victims even being called crazy.

Born from the first half of my own healing journey – the most challenging stage – I expose what silently undermines health and offers insights to reclaim it. These truths remain largely unrecognized by conventional medicine – despite being scientifically proven – creating a silent epidemic, and some have even been misused or weaponized.

Raw, real, and uncompromisingly honest with hard-earned insights, this book is for anyone seeking to understand the hidden root of disease on a physical level, to break the cycle of misdiagnosis, and restore health. While the title and cover may suggest it is aimed at women, the information is equally essential for men.

The Law of Health - FREE - This law of health is the blueprint for every cell of our physical body. When our physical body operates outside of this law, disease is frequent. When living within this law, inner peace and physical health are experienced.

Origin of Disease - Over 300 pages, or 9 hours of audio, revealing the fundamental truths that elite authorities don’t want you to know… the hidden truths of our existence, the birth of all disease and human suffering, the source of health, who we are, why we are here, what dictates our health and life, how the soul is connected to the physical body and their relationship with each other, and much more. It goes far beyond conventional understanding – what lies beneath the surface of the world we think we know, reaching into the unseen forces that shape our health and our lives.

These insights are the result of the second half of my healing journey – they didn’t come from theories, research papers, books, or imagination – they emerged directly through lived experiences during the most profound and transformative moments of my healing journey. The very same information that I put into this book is what helped to heal me and save my life. Again, I included my personal insights and experiences which bring these truths to life.

It doesn’t provide a method or a system. It offers clarity – unchanging truths that stand on their own, with the power to transform how we understand health, suffering, and the forces that govern our lives and health.

Powers Within You - Drawn from my own life, health experiences, and real results, this book reveals the infinite powers each human carries to create whatever they desire – including complete health. Yet when we remain unaware of these powers, we can unconsciously work against ourselves, bringing to reality the very things we fear or wish to avoid. This book uncovers these hidden inner powers and shows how to consciously direct them to create the life – and health – we truly want.

Quick, Simple & Delicious - The most unique recipe book you’ve ever seen, packed with 50 simple to make dairy-free, grain-free, gluten-free, soy-free, and caffeine-free creations that taste amazing.  And since there’s so much confusion and misinformation about healthy eating today, I included some priceless knowledge on the principles of digestion, absorption, assimilation, and elimination.

YouTube:

I have a YouTube channel @OlgaDakiv where I provide candid and enlightening answers to life’s most common questions about health, suffering, the true nature of reality, existence, why we’re here, and many others.

Website:

To get in touch with me, or to find out more about my work or services, please visit www.olgadakiv.com

ACKNOWLEDGEMENT

I must express my deepest gratitude to my husband and best friend, Mark. Without his unwavering support in every choice I made, without his understanding, without teaching me about love before I even knew what it was, without believing in me more than anyone – or anything – else, without trusting in his heart that I would succeed, without carrying me when I needed it, and without doing all the technical work behind the scenes to bring my message to the world, I could not have fulfilled my life’s work as it was meant to be done. His love has always been steady, sincere, and concrete, and I am eternally grateful to have this extraordinary man in my life.

Thank you, my love of my life!