Earlier this year, something shifted. I came across Monk Choo on TikTok speaking about suffering. At first, I only observed from a distance. But something about his words resonated deeply. For the first time, I felt like I was hearing answers to the very questions I had carried for years. Ever since I was a child, my mind was a very dark place. I grew up in an abusive and emotionally toxic home, where my parents were unable to care for me. At 16, I left and joined a cult with my uncle—going, in many ways, from the frying pan into the fire. As a result, I spent years unable to cope with life, my emotions, or my reactions. I was constantly on edge—like a spring-loaded coil, ready to snap at any moment. I lived in a state of anxiety, anger, and confusion, with no real sense of direction or control. From the outside, my life looked successful. I achieved academically, built a career, and created a life that seemed complete—a beautiful home, a loving husband, stability. But internally, I was falling apart. I was in a constant cycle of self-destruction, struggling with anxiety, anger, and depression. I knew something was missing, but I had no idea what it was or where to find it. Moving to Colombia marked the beginning of change, but it didn’t fill that emptiness. No matter what I changed externally, that feeling stayed with me. Earlier this year, something shifted. I came across Monk Choo on TikTok speaking about suffering. At first, I only observed from a distance. But something about his words resonated deeply. For the first time, I felt like I was hearing answers to the very questions I had carried for years. I began asking questions—constantly, intensely—trying to understand everything at once. And yet, he remained patient and calm. Eventually, I ran out of questions. That was the turning point. I realised I didn’t need to keep searching outward—I needed to start listening. Through meditation and the practice of the Dhammapada, everything began to change. Not overnight, but steadily and deeply. I learned to observe my thoughts instead of being controlled by them. I learned to sit with discomfort instead of reacting impulsively. The anger that once defined me began to fade. For the first time in my life, I understand myself. I can regulate my emotions. I am no longer trapped in anxiety or negativity. Situations that once overwhelmed me no longer have the same power. There is space now—where there used to be chaos. Meditation didn’t make my life perfect, but it gave me something far more valuable: clarity, calm, and a sense of freedom within my own mind. I didn’t change my life—I changed how I relate to it. And that changed everything.