I was a mother trying to protect my children, holding on through fear and heartbreak. The world I had built was collapsing — my relationship, my sense of belonging, my very identity. I reached a point of complete surrender. I remember sitting in a corner, tears streaming down my face, whispering to myself, “My children deserve better. I deserve better.” That moment became the quiet seed of my transformation.
From there, I began to seek healing — not from others, but from within. I learned to listen to energy, to intuition, to the subtle whispers of my own spirit. I studied different forms of spiritual practice and holistic healing — each one becoming a mirror that showed me another piece of who I truly was. What began as survival slowly turned into awakening.
Over time, I learned that not everyone who speaks of light carries it, and that true healing cannot be given — it must be remembered. Each practice, each lesson, each challenge helped me rediscover the strength I had always carried. Through movement, meditation, and deep inner work, I began to feel my soul returning home to itself.
Then came another profound loss — my partner passed unexpectedly, and not long after, I lost a child. These experiences opened me to the unseen, to the mystery that connects life and spirit. Grief became my teacher, showing me that love transcends form, and that healing is not about forgetting pain, but transforming it into compassion.
Through it all, I realized that my purpose was never just to survive — it was to guide others toward their own light. Today, I walk this path as a healer, a mother, a woman who has faced her shadows and found her divinity within them. My calling is to help others remember their light, to see the beauty within themselves even when life has dimmed it.
If you are walking through your own darkness, know this: your light has never left you. It waits patiently beneath the pain, ready to rise when you are ready to remember who you are.
There was a moment when everything I thought I knew about faith and safety began to fall apart.
About Yara
The Light I Remembered
There was a time when the world around me fell into shadow.
Fear whispered, faith trembled, and I searched every corner for a way back to light.
I walked through endings — love lost, safety shattered —
and somewhere in the quiet between heartbreak and breath,
I heard my own soul calling.
It said, “You are not broken. You are remembering.”
So I listened.
To the stillness.
To the energy that moves through all things.
To the strength that lives in the spaces pain once filled.
Each step became a prayer,
each tear a baptism of becoming.
Through grief, I found grace.
Through darkness, I found devotion.
Now, I walk as a guide for others —
not to show them my light,
but to help them remember their own.
Because the truth is simple and eternal:
Your light has never left you.
It only waits to be seen again.