How to feel alive as a high-functioning woman who has lost her spark

I’m sure that if you’ve ever had even a glimpse of what it’s like to feel fully alive, you’d agree that nothing in this world can trade for that feeling.

Because you can accrue all the money in the world…
You can collect the titles, the recognition, the milestones that people admire you for…

But if the job you do doesn’t make you feel alive…
If the marriage you’re in doesn’t make you feel alive…
If the business you’ve built no longer makes you feel alive…

You’re left moving through your days like a machine.

And if you’re a sensitive soul like me—someone who was wired for depth, yet was taught to fit into a world that often feels emotionally dead—
That ache… that numbness… can pierce a hole inside even more.

And I know what it’s like to feel dead inside.

There was a time in my life when I was working a 9-to-5 job, living paycheck to paycheck…
Waking up, clocking in, coming home… Smiling at coworkers when needed… Following SOP manuals…Going through the motions while something inside me shrinks a little more each day.

And then… there was the opposite end of the spectrum.

I had finally built my own business. I was making the money I once dreamed of. On paper, everything looked like it was “working.”

But the aliveness I felt at the start—the spark, the zest, the excitement— was gone.

Both experiences—of both struggling in a job that drained me, and thriving in a business that no longer lit me up— Showed me something I’ll never forget:

That if you don’t feel alive… life loses its meaning.

The motivation, the sense of purpose, even the little things—your morning coffee, your client calls, the texts from friends— They all start to feel like background noise.

Like you’re physically here… but emotionally… somewhere else.

So you may be on a zoom call meeting with your team, nodding, strategizing, giving feedback like the leader you are, but emotionally you’re wondering how many more meetings you can sit through before something inside you breaks. 

Or you may be at brunch with friends, laughing in the right moments, adding thoughts to your conversations… but emotionally you feel like you’re just watching a scene, but not really a part of it. 

Or you may be taking a weekend trip to Greece, staying at a beautiful hotel, doing all the “self-care” things you promised you would do when you hit this milestone… but emotionally, you just feel flat, like you’re just doing it for the photo, the instagram story, the audience, hoping that their applause would somehow give that aliveness to you. 

You’re there… but you’re not really there. And the worst part is—you’ve gotten so good at functioning like this, that most people would never guess. 

But my dear… here, you can drop the weight of pretending to be more alive, more grateful, more fulfilled than what you actually feel inside. Because only then, can you finally understand why that numbness has been there… and gently infuse the aliveness that’s been missing for so long… back into your days, your moments, your precious one-and-only life at hand.

Tend to the river of rawness in your body

Whenever I look back on my own journey, and in the lives of the women who came into my work, something I commonly see is that when we feel dead inside (i.e. not know how to feel alive again), it’s usually because we’ve lost touch with what’s Here. 

In other words, we’ve lost touch with the body… the feelings… the earthy dirt of our emotions… the raw, real unsolidified clay in the pottery of reality– that’s carved in our senses at hand. 

Instead, we’re trapped in the metallic prison of our heads—

lost in the digital landscape of how our lives should look… 
or buried under the pile of projects that are supposed to get done in the next hour… 
or caught in the chokehold of our unending desires that say… unless we reach some future goal post (e.g. earn more money/ become popular/ get achievements etc.) … we’re not allowed to fully enjoy life yet.

When actually, what you want most is to feel alive, just for the sake of living. 

Where you look at the rays of sunlight shimmering through the leaves like they’re a treasure chest spilling over with gold.
You listen to the wind moving slow and soft across the pine trees, like she’s speaking directly to you in an ancient language you used to know but forgotten.
You taste the smell of the earth after the rain like it’s the last inhale you’d ever take… as you fill your chest with love’s glistening mist. 

But when we’re inside the torture chamber of our heads, we cannot feel any of it. Instead, all that we hear are the voices of who said what about us, whether we would hit the next month’s revenue goal, or whether we’re falling behind compared to that one coach… that one colleague… that one friend who seems to have it all figured out.

And it’s getting tiring, soul-crushing, exhausting… Like a tire that’s been spinning with friction for so long… all that’s left is the spokes… stripped bare… grinding against the road.

And no wonder we’re left empty, hollow, numb, and dead inside– not knowing how to feel alive.Because the scorching desert heat of the mind… has dried up the river of life that once used to flow so freely in our bodies.

Unlearn what makes you happy 

Oftentimes, when I tap into the souls of women who come into my work… what I see is that–
The reason you don’t how to feel alive isn’t because you don’t know what makes you happy.
Rather, it’s because you know too much.

You’ve consumed too many images.Too many success stories. Too many curated snapshots of joy… all packaged into square tiles and Reels on your phone.

You’ve seen the business coaches on Instagram smiling next to their Stripe screenshots.
You’ve seen the lifestyle bloggers sipping iced matcha in their penthouse balcony lounges.
You’ve seen the endless captions about morning routines, gratitude lists, cold plunges, Bali retreats, and 7-figure launch celebrations.

And somewhere along the way… you started believing that happiness and aliveness were things you had to catch up to.

You read listicles titled “33 Things That Will Make You Happy” and when you realize you’ve only done 8 out of 33…
You wonder if that’s the reason you’re still feeling this dull, bland, sour-dough flatness in your chest.

And especially if you’re a sensitive soul who grew up inside the achievement-hustle-perfectionist bubble— This toxic relationship with happiness can run even deeper.

So you may launch your program… And because it didn’t hit the 100K revenue goal like the last webinar guru told you it would… You end up feeling like you failed—not just at business, but at life.

Or you host a retreat, pour your heart and soul into creating a transformational space for other women… But because only 6 people signed up instead of 30… You walk away questioning your worth… Wondering if you’re even on the right path.

Or you finally take the trip… Book a stunning Airbnb with the clawfoot tub…Take the selfies… Eat at the restaurant you bookmarked months ago… But because you didn’t feel that “overflowing joy” you thought you would… You end up scrolling on your phone that night in bed… Wondering what’s wrong with you.

Time and time again…What you’ll find is that–

As long as you’re hooked onto the idea that a certain thing… a certain number… a certain external moment… “Should” make you happy… the little things in life won’t make you feel alive anymore. 

Receive the gift of your little girl 

The thing is, your little girl—the three-year-old, the five-year-old, or even the ten-year-old you already knows how to feel alive.

She didn’t need a morning routine to feel connected to the Divine.
She drew murals in the mud with her bare fingers, not caring if they were messy or beautiful—only that they were hers.
She danced in summer thunderstorms, letting the rain baptize her, each droplet tuning her body like a drum in rhythm with the sky.
She sang songs that made no sense to anyone but made the trees listen—because in her world, imagination and reality were one and the same.

To her, everything about life was dripping with aliveness.
The way puddles turned into tiny galaxies, swirling with oil and light. The way a ladybug tickled her arm and made her laugh. The crackle of firewood that warms her heart in winter.

She wasn’t afraid to say, “Look at me!” with joy in her chest and paint on her cheeks.
She wasn't afraid to want what she wanted, and express exactly that. 

But somewhere along the way to being a “respectable,” “put-together, “high-level woman,” you learned to fear that very thing that once made your soul dance.

You were told your joy was “too much.” That your sensitivity was “a distraction.” That your dreams were “unrealistic.”

So instead, you picked the practical path– built the career, figured things out, and made it work.
You stayed up late tweaking your business plan, nodding in Zoom meetings, juggling strategy calls—
Even though a part of you secretly longed to be barefoot in a field, writing poetry in your journal or making candles by hand.

You listened to what made sense, followed the blueprint, and kept emotions out of the spreadsheet.

And now… there is this silent throb. A restless-weariness. An echoing-emptiness that no success could feel. And you may be left questioning: Is this all there is?

My love, if you have experienced any of that, know that it’s not because you’re not doing enough. And it’s not that you’re broken or need more discipline.

It’s just that the little girl in you—
The one who once felt alive just by looking at the stars— has been left out in the cold for too long, and is waiting patiently for you to let her back in.

And now, she wants to be part of the vision you’re building. To hold the pen with you. Or pick the colors for your brand, whisper into your decisions, and remind you that your joy is a strategy too.

She has been left out of the “logistics” for far too long. And you’ve been building an empire without your muse.

And now, she’s tugging at your hand,
Asking not for you to abandon everything— But to return. Remember. 

To receive the gift she’s been quietly wrapping for you all these years… in secret, with trembling hands and a hopeful heart.

The gift of coming alive. Not through effort, but through softness and surrender.
Like dandelion seeds lifted by the wind– weightless, free, and wildy, unapologetically alive.