THE SECOND CHANCE I DIDN’T KNOW I NEEDED

Last weekend, I found myself having one of those deep and meaningful conversations with a friend I hadn’t seen for a while.

She shared that even though we don’t see each other often, she watches my journey on Instagram. She said she feels I am someone who consistently shows up and shares my story authentically.

To be honest, it was such a lovely thing to hear, because I truly believe that when we allow ourselves to be vulnerable and honest about what we are going through, it creates space for others to do the same.

But more than that, what she said opened something in me. It led me into a story I hadn’t really verbalised before. A moment from nearly six years ago that, looking back now, feels like a breakthrough moment of awareness.

And I love those moments. Those little gold nuggets of reflection that allow us to see just how far we have come.

Because sometimes we don’t realise the transformation while we are living it. We only see it when we pause, look back, and finally understand what was really happening beneath it all.

When I first came to Mallorca, my hair started falling out. I kept trying to convince myself it was because of the change in water. That the water here was harsh, and maybe my body was just adjusting.

But deep down, I knew it was more than that. Because this was not the first time my body had tried to get my attention in this way.

I was stressed out. I had just relocated from LA. I was broke, overwhelmed, and self- medicating to numb the pain I didn’t yet know how to fully face. Beneath it all, I felt ashamed. Like somehow I had failed.

My body was speaking, and intuitively I knew I needed acupuncture. When I went to see the acupuncturist, she asked me many deep questions, read my pulse, and told me my life force was low. This was something I had never been told before, and it didn’t feel good to hear.

But she also shared something much deeper. She said she felt that me coming to Mallorca was the universe giving me a second chance. A chance to change, because I couldn’t continue living the way I had been living.

It was a lot to receive, especially from someone who didn’t know me.

What I didn’t know then was that coming to Mallorca was a gift. This island was going to become my home of healing. I just had no idea how much was going to change in the years that followed.

It has nearly been six years since I left LA, and when I look back now, I can see things I couldn’t see then.

At the time, I thought maybe I just needed to change some of my bad habits. Have more discipline. Make better choices. Try harder.

But what I didn’t realise was how much I needed to change my environment in order to change myself. I was stuck on loop. Stuck in a cycle. And I didn’t even know it.

Sometimes we think healing is only about what we stop doing. What we let go of. What we finally have the willpower to walk away from.

But sometimes healing is also about where we place ourselves. In environments that bring us back to the source. In nature. Grounded. Connected to the earth. Who we surround ourselves with. What we choose to keep coming back to. What begins to become our new normal.

I know that from the outside it can look like I am always surrounded by people having the best time, but that can also be the false illusion that social media projects. The reality was that when I gave up alcohol, I spent a lot of time on my own.

Pouring myself into my work. Learning new things. Diving deeper into my spiritual practices. Creating a new environment for this new version of myself.

And I can see now that this is what has given me my life force back.

Because the truth is, our environment is always speaking to our nervous system. The people we spend time with. The places we go. The conversations we keep having. The habits that become normal around us. The energy we keep saying yes to.

All of it matters.

And the body knows long before the mind is ready to admit it.

My hair falling out was not random. It was the beginning of a breakdown that would eventually become a breakthrough.

My body was trying to tell me something. And perhaps this is what symptoms are sometimes, the body asking us to listen.

That feeling of being disconnected from myself was not random either. A major piece of my healing journey would later become reconnecting with my biological family and, in many ways, reconnecting with parts of myself I hadn’t fully understood before.

These days, I spend so much of my time choosing the things that keep me elevated: yoga, breathwork, meditation, chanting, singing, dancing, cycling, cold water plunging, saunas, gardening, being at the beach, going on hikes, and being in nature.

These are not just things I “do.” They are the practices, places, and rhythms that bring me back to the present moment. They are the things that increase my life force, rather than deplete it.

And the people I spend the most time with now are people who choose these things too. People who are also trying to live with more presence, joy, and awareness.

Choice by choice, consistently and authentically.

And maybe that is what change really is. Learning to listen to the body. No longer overriding the truth by numbing. Placing ourselves in environments that support who we are becoming, rather than pulling us back into who we used to be.

So maybe the question is not only: What do I need to stop doing?

But perhaps, more honestly: Where in my life is my body already whispering to me?

And when we finally begin to listen, we can start by taking the first step.

And then, as if the universe was winking at me, I went to yoga to teach my Thursday night class and pulled an oracle card: Santosha, which means Contentment.

The card spoke about being content with where you are, taking a moment to let it all sink in, and recognising how far you have come. It was also a reminder to receive the support that is already around us, and to trust that we are safe, loved, and supported by the universe.

It felt like such a beautiful confirmation that what I had been writing was perfectly aligned. It made me smile and say ‘thank you’.

Because sometimes the signs are loud. Sometimes they arrive through the body. Sometimes through a conversation with a friend. And sometimes through a card pulled at exactly the right moment.

But maybe the invitation is always the same:

Listen.

With love,

Debbie