I remember the moment all the energy had left my body. The only thing I still had strength for, was counting the metal rings on an old chimney through the window.
Growing up in an emotionally unsafe environment at times, I had learned to shut off from my feelings — hiding behind a mask of jokes and people-pleasing just to avoid the tension.
Emotionally disconnected from myself, I eventually ended up physically isolated too — lying alone in quarantine at age 8, with meningitis, a life-threatening disease.
I’ll never forget the fear in my mother’s eyes at the moment of diagnosis. That fear stayed with me... until something completely unexpected happened. Lying there completely alone and out of energy, something shifted.
That fear melted into a deep, warm, and strangely familiar feeling that everything was okay — no matter what would happen, even if I didn’t make it.
I’m deeply grateful that I survived. At eight years old, I hadn’t yet lived life fully — I hadn’t known love, or success, or made a real contribution. Well... apart from being a bit of a pain to my sisters.
After that intense experience, I began noticing the little miracles in nature.Like how a raindrop slid off a leaf. While others were playing football, I was wondering about life and health — and why we get sick.
From then on, I became obsessed with what keeps us healthy and what causes disease.I followed every health rule down to the last detail — I never even drank a single drop of alcohol.
Then came a new struggle.Because I grew so fast, by age 13 I had become so thin that my limbs looked smaller than my joints. People laughed at me, and so I became obsessed again — this time with fitness.
But I wanted to do everything the healthy and natural way, so I wouldn’t get sick again. I followed all the fitness guidelines perfectly for two years. But no matter how disciplined I was, I didn’t see the results. I started blaming myself — my genes, my body.
Eventually, I managed to build some muscle by forcefully eating large amounts, as the guidelines told me to. But I started noticing clear warning signs: Skin issues, fatigue, high blood pressure, inflammation, poor sleep…
At age 19, I won the first ever Mister World competition.I had global success, external validation, and all the status symbols that come with it. But here’s what shocked me the most: Even with all that, I didn’t feel free.
That emptiness inside didn’t go away.The success added a thin mask — it didn’t remove what I truly felt deep inside. And this is what we’re often promised from a young age — that when we finally become “successful,” we’ll feel whole and free.
That was the moment I lost all direction. If even success couldn’t give me peace or worth, what would? I burned out. I became depressed. I got addicted to all kinds of distractions.
The “health” and “fitness” rules gave me more physical symptoms, not fewer. And the “success path” didn’t heal my inner restlessness or sense of inferiority. That’s when I had enough.
Out of frustration, I started questioning everything.
Especially the things I had been so sure of.