Learn About Your Guide in Healing

Hi, I'm Margit. This is the part of my story I never thought I'd write.

Learn About Your Guide in HealingHi, I'm Margit. This is the part of my story I never thought I'd write.

I grew up in Hungary, the kind of girl who kept her head down and her grades up. I believed if I worked hard enough, did the right things, made the right choices, life would unfold the way it was supposed to.

So I studied law. I got my doctorate. I learned how to argue, how to analyse, how to find the logic underneath the chaos. I trusted my mind to keep me safe.

Then I moved to the Netherlands — for love, for adventure, for the next chapter. I built a life here. I learned the language. I navigated a country that wasn't mine, a culture that wasn't mine, a system that wasn't mine. I became a wife. I became a mother. I built what I thought was the rest of my life.

And then it ended.

The first time stress took something I loved

Long before my own marriage fell apart, I learned what unmanaged stress does to a body. I lost my father to a chronic illness that started — and was fed for years — by stress that never got released. I watched a strong man's body slowly stop being able to hold what his mind would not put down.

That loss was the first time I understood — really understood — that stress is not just an inconvenience. It is a physical event in the body that, left unaddressed, makes us sick. Sometimes it kills us.

For years after, I lived with my own version of it. Chronic stress. Racing thoughts. Sleep that didn't restore me. Digestive issues. Hormonal imbalance. High cortisol. Visits to doctors who told me my bloodwork was fine. It wasn't fine. My body was carrying years of what my life would not let me put down.

And then I discovered EFT tapping. And within minutes — minutes — I felt my body do something it had not done in years. It exhaled. It softened. It believed, for the first time, that the danger had passed.

Then came the part I never planned to teach

Two years ago, my own marriage ended.

I had tried for many years to save it. We read the Nonviolent Communication books together. We did anger management courses, both of us. I did EMDR therapy on my own trauma. We went to couples therapy at the very end. I was the kind of woman who tried everything before she gave up on something.

But here is what nobody told me about a marriage that struggles for years: the work only works if both people are doing it. I was doing the deep, somatic, body-based work. He was reading and thinking. Those are different. And the patterns kept coming back, because the wound wasn't in the books on the bedside table. The wound was in him. And he wouldn't go in.

By the time I finally filed, my body had been on alert for so many years it had forgotten what calm felt like. My hands were shaking. Tears were running down my face. I was in the middle of a storm — terror, grief, doubt, knowing — and I filed anyway.

And then I did the work of becoming someone I had not been allowed to be inside that marriage. Slowly. Imperfectly. With tapping. With somatic work. With grace for the days I could not do more than the bare minimum.

Why I built this practice

I work with women who are going through divorce — or who are still in the part where they cannot decide yet — or who are in the year or two after, trying to put themselves back together.

Specifically, I work with the women I was. The ones who tried everything. The ones who feel guilty for even considering ending the family. The ones whose nervous systems have been on alert for so long they have forgotten what safety feels like. The ones who are intelligent, capable, accomplished, and absolutely cannot stop crying in the supermarket.

Many of my clients are expat women in the Netherlands. I am one too. If you are divorcing in a country that isn't yours, far from family who would be in your kitchen if they could be, with the kind of structural aloneness that no Skype call quite fixes — I see you. I have been you.

I use EFT — tapping — because it works on the body, where divorce trauma actually lives. Not just the mind. The chest that won't unclench. The 3 AM panic. The crying that ambushes you at school pickup. We tap. We meditate. We do small somatic practices that calm the nervous system in minutes. And slowly — not all at once, but slowly — you come back to yourself.

I am not a therapist. I am not a divorce lawyer (though I understand that world — I trained as a lawyer in Hungary before I moved here). I am not the woman to call when you need crisis psychiatric care.

I am the woman to call when your mind has the information it needs but your body is still in survival mode. When the legal proceedings are happening but you cannot sleep. When the divorce is done on paper but your nervous system hasn't caught up. When you need to learn how to feel safe in your own body again.

That is the work I do. That is what this practice is for.