My Inner Encounter with the Puma

There are moments when travel takes us not only to another country or city, but deep within ourselves. These journeys don’t just open the world — they open our hearts, our pain, and the strength we’ve kept hidden.

This is a story about meeting my inner Puma — a meeting that didn’t happen during a breathwork session or spiritual retreat, but right in the middle of an argument in Rome.

Rome. The city where eternity meets the moment.

And it was there — between marble columns and the hum of Vespas — that I experienced one of the greatest emotional fractures of my life.

A few months ago, I traveled to Rome — a city of ancient beauty, deep roots, and spiritual longing. But as often happens, the most profound transformations don’t happen under the stars, but inside our bones.

In the most breathtaking of places, something unexpected happened: I had a serious fight with a close friend.

It wasn’t just a disagreement. It was the moment when the calm, understanding, always-present part of me — the woman who had been “strong and stable” for years — finally cracked.

The silence I had carried for so long shattered like an antique vessel on stone pavement.

No yoga mat, no meditation, no "good intentions" could protect me anymore.

It was just me.

Me and the Puma. My Puma was wild, fierce, instinctive.

In the moment when I needed support the most, I was met with coldness — and it knocked the ground out from under my feet. I don’t know if it was the ancient stones of the Forum or the looming shadow of the Colosseum, but something broke inside me. or maybe something finally opened.

The Puma inside didn’t roar. She sang. She screamed.

For every time I had swallowed my truth. For every time I smiled when I wanted to cry. For every time I stayed silent when I wanted to scream. She reminded me: You can’t live just to be understood by others. You have to be true to yourself.

And in the heat of that moment, something even more unexpected happened — I was afraid of myself. Afraid of the part of me that had been quiet for so long, and suddenly spoke up — loudly, angrily, unapologetically.

Is *this* what I look like when I defend myself? That question echoed in me for weeks after returning home. As I walked through familiar streets, breath quickened, I kept asking — is this Puma my enemy, or my guide?

Eventually, my rage and sorrow turned into a ritual of self-meeting. My darkest part wasn’t weak or irrational.

She was *powerful*.

She wasn’t broken — she was *a treasure chest full of diamonds*:

Repressed desires. Unspoken grief. Unlived truths.

Why are we taught to suppress anger, rather than understand it?

Why do we assume spirituality means only peace, and not fire?

Rome taught me this:

Every story has layers. My anger was the guardian of my truth.

Yes — every situation has two sides. But this time, I didn’t abandon mine.

I didn’t cover myself with guilt, whispering, *“How can I be like this when I meditate and do the work?”* I apologized for how it came out — but I honored *what* came out.

Since that journey, my friend and I have each taken our own paths.

And I truly believe that this was a turning point for both of us — to look deeper, love braver, and live more truthfully.

Not with bitterness.

But with acceptance.

The fact that our paths diverged doesn’t mean she was wrong, or unkind.

It simply means: this part of the journey was meant to be walked apart.

Like two rivers flowing side by side... before each finds its own direction.

Sometimes, love means letting someone go.

This transformation is the kind that every journey — both outward and inward — eventually brings.

Rome was just the setting. The real revolution happened within me.

And perhaps, in our own ways, we both experienced the same thing:

Liberation.

She — in hers.

And I — in mine.

This is what happens when truth, courage, and timing collide.

And wherever she is now — I quietly wish her light.

The same light I’m learning to see within myself.

Now?

Every day, I learn to live with my Puma.

I learn not to silence her, but to listen.

To meet my shadows — not with blame, but with curiosity.

To uncover the hidden treasures: unspoken dreams, unmet needs, shaky boundaries that deserve strength.

When we stop fighting our shadows, they become sources of light.

Rome was just the backdrop. The true awakening happened within.

Do you know your Puma?

Maybe she hides in the anger you’ve swallowed for years.

Maybe she’s in the quiet “yes” when your heart screams “no.”

And maybe... it’s time.

Not to fight her.

But to finally meet her.

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#SelfLoveRitual #EmotionalHealing #OwnYourStory #TruthTeller#AwakenYourPower #RadicalHonesty