I Did Everything Right, and Still Felt Empty: From Outer Stability to Inner Safety

For the longest time, I did what I was told.

I finished my homework before I played after school.

I studied hard before exams, because grades mattered.

I got a job in Finance, because I was told income over passion. People in the arts suffer and go hungry; people in Finance hold the mental rice bowl — the kind that never runs out.

I believed that if I didn’t follow this path, there would be consequences. But if I did, it promised happiness. So I followed it diligently. What I felt inside didn’t matter. If so many people kept preaching the same thing, who was I to say — or feel — otherwise?

So I worked in Finance for 14 years, across many different roles and functions. Some were more interesting than others, some were more stressful than others. But I stuck with it.

The emptiness in my heart was always there. Sometimes quieter. Sometimes so loud it took over my whole world. I couldn’t quite make out what it wanted — what it needed to fill that hole. I had studied hard, graduated with a good degree, and found myself a stable job. I had done everything “right.”

So I observed the people around me. With stability and a decent income, they filled their lives with frequent travel, good food, and pretty clothes. Looking good, and collecting “check-ins” at all the “it” cafés, restaurants, and countries — that seemed like the way to fill my hole. So I did it too. The emptiness softened during those moments.

But when I wasn’t in a café or on a trip, it came back screaming, and my heart felt hollow again.

And I carried on like that for a long, long time — because I was told that’s just how life is.

For my last job, I lived in a constant state of heightened stress and anxiety. The work demanded a lot — long hours, high commitment, and constant conversations with important people of the company. My imposter syndrome had never been that loud. But they told me, fake it till you make it, so I kept going, acting like that voice didn’t exist.

I was spending more than ever. I was convinced this was the way to happiness — like what they told me. I was convinced I needed expensive cafés, travel stories, and luxury labels just to have friends and fit in. I was making more and saving less.

Emotionally, I felt like someone hanging off the edge of a cliff. They told me it was normal — and that money could buy me a better edge to hang on to. So I kept hanging on.

Because I was told that’s what life is.

Then COVID hit, and the company restructured. Workload and expectations increased without any extra help. My grip on the edge of the cliff weakened — and no increase in income or title was going to help me hang on.

So I spoke to my superior. I told her about my stress, and that I couldn’t cope anymore. She said it was because I hadn’t had a proper break in a long time (travel restrictions during the peak of COVID), and told me to go for a trip.

Looking back, it was like turning down the smoke alarm without putting out the fire. A quick fix, hoping it would pass — without tending to what was really burning underneath.

But I did what she told me to. Because that was what I was told.

My brother was planning a two-week trip to Switzerland, so I tagged along. From packing to the plane, to arriving in this beautiful country — the anxiety never really left me. Part of me was in awe, another part of me was still back at the office, putting out fires and bracing for the workload waiting for me.

It took me almost a week to fully relax and bask in the beauty around me. And it was the first time I realised just how much stress and anxiety I had been carrying in my body.

On the tenth day, I woke up to a text from a colleague asking me to fill in a work form. My mind went blank and my body went numb. I did it immediately — like I always do — hoping that once it was done, the stress and anxiety would go away.

But it didn’t.

I remember sitting in the hotel restaurant, looking at a full breakfast spread and my favourite croissant. My brother was chatting about life. In front of us was the most beautiful scenery. And yet, I couldn’t hear a single word he was saying.

That was when I knew I couldn’t keep going the way I was. And no amount of beautiful trips like this was going to make it okay.

But even after that, I still toyed with the idea of carrying on the same way — hoping stress and anxiety could be numbed by comfort and luxury. Hoping I wouldn’t have to face the question of what else I could do. Hoping I could still live the dream life everyone told me I should want.

When I got back, I told myself: just carry on for a while longer. Maybe this feeling would pass. Maybe the stress and anxiety wouldn’t catch up to me.

But when my colleague handed me a long to-do list, I broke down and started sobbing. In that moment, I faced the truth: I couldn’t carry on anymore. And with that came another fear — that I no longer had a dream path to follow.

I felt the loss of what I thought my life was supposed to be, the uncertainty of what came next, and the grief of trying so hard to make a dream work… only to realise it had never really fit me from the beginning.

A part of me felt lost, but my body finally stopped hanging on. Reality set in. So much was happening inside me — and yet, for the first time in a long time, that emptiness grew quieter.

How Therapy and Reiki Helped Me Come Home

I slept for a full week before I felt the tension slowly leave my body, and calm started to feel normal again. I still felt lost, but I knew the next step I needed was therapy.

I went to therapy week after week. It was costly. Some days felt tough and stagnant — I left the session feeling like I was still walking through a dark tunnel. Other days, I could finally see a new perspective, a little more light.

Some sessions I cried so hard I was gasping for air. Other sessions, I felt joy and love in my heart as I slowly — surely — came back to my own voice and my own story. And then, before I knew it, a year went by.

Along the way, I was introduced to Reiki. It wasn’t something I was familiar with, but I decided to learn it as a self-healing tool.

I did self-Reiki like clockwork — an hour every day, the way I brush my teeth morning and night. Some days I felt relief and ease. Some days, nothing at all. But over time, I realised how much my nervous system was healing, and how much space it created inside me — enough space to see things I had never been able to see before.

My awareness grew. My perspective shifted. And I began moving through life in a way I couldn’t have understood back then.

I feel like a different person now — and at the same time, all the more the same. I’ve never felt more “me.”

Today, I feel peaceful, centred, and grounded. I have space for a range of emotions, including the painful ones. I stopped running from them, and I began meeting life differently.

My nervous system now has the capacity to hold disapproval — to set boundaries, and to trust that my world won’t come crashing down because of it. I’m now surrounded by people with whom I create meaningful connections, and I feel more at peace with the present.

I’ve stopped chasing. There’s more steadiness, even when life isn’t perfect. And I can simply be — myself — in this moment.

And I’m doing things I never thought I could — following my heart, charting my own path, and offering what helped me heal so others can build the strength and capacity to live a life that feels meaningful and true.

It was a journey of unlearning the belief that there’s only one path to happiness — and seeing that outer stability, comfort, and a luxurious life are not the same as inner safety.

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If my story feels like yours, reach out — and let’s see what support would help you most right now.

In counselling/therapy, we make sense of your patterns and stories, build tools, and integrate insight in a way you can actually live. Reiki supports your nervous system to regulate and build capacity — especially when you’ve been stuck in stress or anxiety for a long time.

If you’re ready to come back to yourself — to regain autonomy, set boundaries with more ease, and stop chasing what never truly settles you — reach out. Click “CONTACT ME” at the top right of this page to book a free discovery call, or drop me a message.