I received an email and instantly felt a wave rush through my body. Joy. Adrenaline. Relief. Finally.
I read the sentence twice. As if I needed to check that I hadn’t just made it up myself.
For a long time, Follow Your Heart was mostly something internal. An idea. A desire. A voice that kept returning. A collection of thoughts, experiences, doubts, insights, and sentences that slowly found their place.
And now, the book is no longer just a document on my laptop. It is on its way to paper.
Writing was not an easy process for me. It demanded more of me than I had anticipated. You make yourself vulnerable. You choose what to reveal and what to keep hidden. You look back, you feel, you cut, you rewrite. And then comes the point where you can no longer hide behind “just a little longer.” You have to trust.
And because this lies well outside my comfort zone, I certainly felt insecure at times during this process.
Not just about sentences or chapters, but about the bigger question underlying everything: what if all of this leads to nothing? What if I pour all this time, energy, and vulnerability into something, and it ultimately goes nowhere?
Today’s email felt like proof that it didn’t just vanish into thin air.
That it wasn’t “for nothing.”
That despite all the doubt, something tangible has emerged.
Follow Your Heart was born out of my own search for direction, resilience, and purpose. Out of moments when I felt that something had to change, but didn’t yet know how. Out of experiences where my mind kept searching for certainty, while my heart already knew which way it wanted to go.
The book is about learning to listen to what truly matters again. About not immediately viewing doubt as a weakness, but as a guide. About small, honest choices that bring you back to yourself, step by step. About that moment when your life seems to be running perfectly on the outside, but on the inside you feel: somewhere along the way, I lost myself.
Now that the book has gone to the printer, I feel something else too: I have to let go.
Until now, I could keep tweaking. Tweaking just one more sentence to make it better. Adding one more nuance. Checking one more time to see if everything felt right. But there comes a point where you no longer progress by continuing to polish. Then, you have to trust.
Perhaps that is exactly what this book is about, too.
Following your heart doesn’t mean everything feels certain. It means you learn to move even when not everything is set in stone. It means taking a step because something inside you knows it is time.
Soon, I will hold the first copy in my hands. I can still barely imagine that moment. A book that lived inside for so long will suddenly have weight. A cover. Pages. A beginning and an end. Something I can hold, but which is then also allowed to go its own way.
And that is perhaps what I find most exciting: that soon, the book will no longer be mine alone.
Then it gets to go to readers. To people who might be standing at a crossroads themselves. To people who feel that their life might look successful on the outside, but no longer feels right on the inside. To people who long for more peace, clarity, courage, and purpose.
My hope is not that this book provides all the answers. But I do hope it opens something up. A question. A moment of recognition. A small movement inward. Perhaps even the courage to make one choice that fits better.
For now, I am mostly grateful.
Grateful that this book is almost here. Grateful for everyone who read along, helped, encouraged, or said at exactly the right moment: keep going.
And also grateful for the long process itself. Because perhaps something that truly fits never develops in a straight line. Perhaps it takes time. Doubt. Silence. Slowing down. Course-correcting. And ultimately, trust.
Follow Your Heart has gone to the printer.
Just a little longer, and I will get to hold it.
And after that, it gets to go out into the world.
Would you like a one-time notification when the book becomes available? Send me a message with the line: “Yes, you may send me one email about this.” I will gladly add you to the list.