From Sky High to Soul Deep: What My Life as a Recruiter Taught Me About Healing

I remember the first time I walked into a room of flight attendant hopefuls—nervous smiles, hearts filled with possibility, and the belief that this day might change everything.

I’d been in their shoes not long before—wide-eyed, eager, and determined to see the world. Back then, I was one of the ones being chosen.

Now, I was the one choosing.

For years, I traveled the globe as a recruiter for a prestigious airline. Argentina for two weeks, Australia for three, Japan for ten days. Canada’s icy winter winds. France’s gray days that seemed to stretch forever. The constant drizzle of rain in England. Sun-drenched afternoons in Greece. Business class flights. Five-star hotels. Local guides who turned strangers into friends and cities into home.

It was, in many ways, the dream job.

Exciting. Glamorous. Filled with possibility.

There were early mornings in Mauritius, watching the sun rise over turquoise waters. Evenings in Italy, savoring gelato on cobblestone streets. Days in Puerto Rico, dancing to the rhythm of island life. Afternoons in Sri Lanka, wandering through emerald tea plantations in the cool hills. Nights in Thailand, exploring bustling street markets, long massages followed by the most delicious lemongrass tea that melted away fatigue and stress. Temple bells in India, ringing softly as prayers rose to the sky, the scent of jasmine hanging in the warm air.

All of it—beautiful. Exhilarating.

But it was also exhausting.

Sixteen-hour days spent in hotel ballrooms, guiding candidates through assessments and interviews, with a chance to prove themselves and to stand out in a sea of possibility. 

Nights spent catching flights instead of sleep.

I’ll never forget the winter I spent in Korea, only to head straight to Germany after. No sun for two weeks. Hotel rooms and airplane cabins. My body craving warmth, my soul longing for stillness.

When I finally landed back in sunny Dubai, I went straight to the beach. I stretched out on warm sand, March sunshine on my face, as the gentle waves of the Gulf melted away my fatigue. I’ll never forget that exact moment—the soft breeze, the sun’s warmth and the deep knowing that this was what I had been missing.

Because even in a job that was thrilling, I’d lost touch with my own center.

I didn’t realize it then, but that chapter was preparing me for the work I do now. 

As a healer, I guide others to rediscover what they’ve lost touch with. Themselves.

To come home to their hearts, no matter how far they’ve traveled.

To find the warmth of the sun within, not just on a sandy beach.

Through the gentle practices of Reiki, holistic healing and deep spiritual listening, I’ve learned to hold space for those moments of reconnection—to help others feel the soul-deep calm and wholeness that I once found on that beach in Dubai.

And in that space of quiet reflection, I realized what truly mattered.

I don’t miss the endless flights or the constant performance.

I don’t miss the hotel rooms that all looked the same.

I don’t miss the feeling of always being on, even when my entire being was crying out for rest.

But I’m grateful for that time. Infinitely grateful.

It taught me how to hold space for others, even in the whirlwind.

It showed me how to spot the sparkle of readiness in someone’s eyes—because I once wore it, too.

If you’ve ever felt like you’re living someone else’s dream, not your own—if you’re exhausted from the hustle and want to feel nourished again—this is your gentle reminder. Not to fly away, but to return home to yourself.

Because the greatest journey you’ll ever take isn’t measured in miles. It’s measured in the depth of your own healing.

Something beautiful is brewing here, gorgeous soul . . . a new way to remember who you truly are and rise into it.

Stay close.

You’ll be the first to know.