There was a time when I truly believed that if I just found the right plan, everything would finally fall into place.
The right diet.
The right rules.
The right level of discipline.

At the time, I didn’t realize it yet — but my mental and emotional state was already deciding the outcome.

For a while, things sometimes worked.
I started with motivation, followed the plan, and told myself this time it’s different.
Until life happened.

Something difficult.
Something painful.
Something that affected me emotionally far more than I expected.

And suddenly, continuing felt impossible.

Not because I was lazy.
Not because I didn’t want it badly enough.
But because my mind was exhausted, my emotions were heavy, and my body simply couldn’t keep up with the pressure anymore.

Some days, even the thought of continuing felt overwhelming.

That was one of the first moments when I truly understood something important:
my mental and emotional wellbeing mattered just as much as what I was eating.

For a long time, I tried to ignore that.
Most wellness advice doesn’t really leave space for it anyway.
It focuses on willpower, discipline and consistency — as if we were machines, not human beings with real lives, real stress, real grief and emotional ups and downs.

But I began to notice a pattern in myself.

Every time I started a diet while feeling emotionally fragile, overwhelmed or hurt, it eventually fell apart.
Sometimes slowly.
Sometimes suddenly.
But almost always ending the same way: guilt, disappointment, and the familiar feeling that I had failed again.

At some point, a quiet question appeared in my mind:
What if my body wasn’t the problem?

What if trying to “fix” myself during emotionally difficult periods was simply too much to ask?

I started to see how deeply my body responded to what was happening inside me.
When something shook me emotionally, my energy dropped, my motivation disappeared, and my body reacted too — and no meal plan could override that.

This realization didn’t change everything overnight.
But it changed the way I treated myself.

Instead of pushing harder, I started listening more.
Instead of strict rules, I allowed flexibility.
Instead of expecting progress during emotionally heavy times, I focused on stability, safety and kindness.

This is where My Happy Well comes from.

Not from perfect routines.
Not from constant motivation.
But from understanding that wellbeing is not only physical — it’s mental, emotional and deeply human.

This space is for moments when life feels heavy.
For times when you want to take care of yourself, but you’re also carrying things that make it harder.
For anyone who has ever stopped a diet not because they didn’t care, but because they cared deeply and had no energy left.

If you’re here, you’re probably not looking for another strict plan —
just a kinder way forward, one that makes room for your whole self.

And that’s exactly what this place is meant to be.