Beauty, Shadows, and the Essence That Remains

From the Algarve to Japan:
What Changes When We Change Context and What Never Does

Right now, I’m writing these words from Nagoya. The silence of the trains contrasts with the noise inside my own thoughts. Being here, immersed in a culture so different from my roots in Portugal, changes my perspective. I notice both the beauty and the shadows that coexist in daily life.

And every day feels like a treasure hunt: a new detail, a hidden temple, an unexpected conversation.
There’s a childlike curiosity in me and It wakes up with every discovery. This makes me excited to see what Japan will reveal next.

Yet moving abroad isn’t just changing address. It’s testing the soul.

Back in the Algarve, the sun and the sea cradled me.
In Japan, I found silence on trains and centuries-old temples. I discovered a discipline that fascinates… until it suffocates. Because here, perfection isn’t an ideal, it’s the baseline.
A shadow few dare to name.

And this is where the journey becomes meaningful:
when we stop idealizing and start integrating what’s real.

The Facade of Perfection

At first glance, Japan is impeccable.

• Everything works.
• The streets are spotless.
• Discipline is everywhere.

Scratch the surface of postcard temples and cherry blossoms. You’ll find a different story. Suicide rates haunt families. Loneliness echoes through tiny apartments. There’s a disturbing obsession with infantilizing women.

Strength here often means never showing weakness. Smiling politely while crying in silence. It’s the same philosophy that keeps workers glued to their desks until midnight. They stay just so no one dares to leave before the boss.

And, because comedy hides in the details: I once went to an “Italian” restaurant here. I ordered a cheese pizza and asked for extra mushrooms. The waiter looked horrified, it wasn’t on the menu, so it was impossible. Impossible!
That’s Japan in a nutshell: rulebook open, creativity locked in a drawer.
Beautiful, efficient, rigid.

And I recognize this tendency in myself too. How many times have I pushed to look resilient? When all I wanted was to admit I was tired and wanted to just ask for help?

If this resonates with you, try this PNL practice:
Close your eyes and imagine the “mask” you sometimes wear.
Notice its shape, color, and weight. Now picture yourself taking it off gently and placing it on the ground.
Breathe deeply and ask:
“Who am I without this mask?”
Let the answer come, raw and unfiltered.

The Weight of Harmony

In Japan, wa (social harmony) is law. People apologize constantly, even when it makes no sense. The unwritten rule is clear: don’t stand out, don’t disturb, don’t break the flow. On the surface, it looks admirable. Everyone is polite, no raised voices, no open conflict. But here’s the catch:

When harmony is only external, emptiness is what grows inside.

I’ve felt it myself. I have kept quiet just to “keep the peace.” I smiled politely while every cell in my body wanted to shout.
And it’s not just Japan.
Consider how often we bite our tongue in meetings, in relationships, or even at family dinners. Rocking the boat feels scarier than betraying ourselves.

Journal prompt
Write about a time you chose silence over truth.
What did you hold back?
And when you swallowed those words, which part of yourself did you also silence?

Releasing Control of Those Who Stay Behind

Coming to Japan also meant learning to release control over those I left behind.
Some relationships, still premature, may prove themselves with time or dissolve when effort isn’t mutual.
Bonds that once seemed solid revealed their fragility when the weight wasn’t shared.

This is where relational dynamics become clear: the feminine often gives, nurtures, holds; the masculine pushes, affirms, seeks freedom.
Without balance, one gives until she’s empty while the other runs from the very thing she offers.

And in the midst of all this, I’ve faced a paradox. I want to be present for others, yet I dare to choose myself. Choosing myself doesn’t mean abandoning my son. He lives in my heart across every ocean.
It means embodying a truth I want him to inherit: that love is strongest when it is free.

Sometimes, stepping “off route”, taking time outside of roles and expectations: isn’t abandonment, it’s expansion. It’s the pause that makes me a better mother, a fuller woman, a truer friend. Because I return to them anchored, not depleted.

This is where the power of the “I Am” becomes essential.

• I am whole even when I am far.
• I am present even in absence.
• I am love, whether or not it is reciprocated in the form I expect.

The I Am is not a mask, not a role, not dependent on who stays or who leaves.
It’s the unshakable essence that remains when control slips through your fingers.
And it’s from there (not from clinging) that authentic connection is born.

Practice: Shadow Work with Attachment Styles

Think of a relationship where you felt the urge to control.
Ask yourself:

“What am I afraid will happen if I stop holding on?”

Write the answer. Then, close your eyes and imagine opening your hand, releasing that person into the air.

Whisper:

• “I release you to find myself.”
• “My strength is in choosing me.”
• “I am.”

The Woman as Child

In Japan, femininity is often dressed up as childlikeness: round faces, high-pitched voices, delicate gestures. Anime culture may look cute and harmless.
However, it normalizes something darker. These are fantasies that reduce women to innocence and passivity.

Until June 2023, the legal age of consent in Japan was only 13 years old, unchanged since 1907. Only in 2023 it was raised to 16, finally aligning with countries like Spain or the UK. Progress, yes. But also a reflection of how deep this cultural blind spot runs.

And let’s not pretend it’s just Japan.
The West also manufactures roles: the “good girl” who never raises her voice. The “perfect mother” who erases herself or the “flawless woman” who performs perfection on cue.
Different packaging, same control.

And this is where the power of the “I Am” comes in.

• I am not your cartoon.
• I am not your stereotype.
• I am not the role you expect me to play.
• I am. And that’s enough.

As a coach and guide, I know these truths aren’t only mine.
They belong to every woman who’s ever been told she was “too much” or “not enough.” Naming these patterns isn’t just rebellion, it’s guidance. Because when one of us remembers her “I Am,” it gives others permission to reclaim theirs.

Reflection prompt:
Where in your life are you slipping into roles that don’t belong to you?
Who are you at the core without the “good girl” facade? Who are you without being the “perfect one” or the “acceptable version”?

Discipline: Between Light and Shadow

Training martial arts in Japan taught me far more than technique.
I didn’t come here to reinvent myself. I came to add new tools to my coaching practice and polish the ones I already had.

Discipline, here, is treated almost like oxygen: you breathe it, you perform it, you don’t question it. People line up neatly at stations, bow to empty temples, and follow rules as if improvisation were a mortal sin. (Remember that “Italian” restaurant where they refused to add extra mushrooms to my pizza? Yes. That level of rigidity.)

• The masculine gives me structure, focus, and drive.
• The feminine gives me flow, intuition, and softness.

When they’re in balance, sovereignty emerges.
Because here’s the truth: strength only means something when it’s a choice.

A person who chooses not to fight is very different from a person who is simply incapable of fighting. I can carry a strong, disciplined masculine energy inside me and still decide not to wield it.
That is sovereignty: not being ruled by strength, but ruling over when and how it’s used.

Practice: PNL Anchor

Recall a moment where you combined strength with compassion. Close your eyes, breathe deeply, and let that memory flood your body. Anchor it by touching your chest or pressing your fingers together. This helps so that whenever you need to act with power and softness, you can summon that state back instantly.

From the Algarve to Japan, I discovered that no matter the context, something remains untouched: essence.
My eyes that seek truth.
My voice that refuses silence.
My mission to guide those who cross my path.

And this is where the journey becomes spiritual:
the scenery changes, but the soul is always the mirror.

As a coach, I already knew these patterns. They include masks worn for perfection, relationships bent by attachment, and discipline without freedom turning into cages. I’ve spoken about them, taught them, guided others through them. Japan didn’t reveal something new to me. It simply forced me to live them in the body, not just in the mind. And embodiment changes everything.

Because it’s one thing to talk about resilience, and another to find yourself in a culture where “strength” means never leaving the office before your boss. Or where asking for mushrooms on your pizza is treated like civil disobedience.
That’s when theory becomes flesh, and teaching becomes truth.

Japan, like every human being, is both beautiful and shadowed.
It shows us the power of discipline and the danger of silence.
The elegance of form and the fragility of spirit.

✨ And you? When everything around you changes, what within you can’t be shaken?

Your inner journey doesn’t need to wait, but my one-to-one sessions do.
My agenda reopens in January next year.
Until then, you can join the waiting list to get priority access. I’ll be sharing exclusive reflections along the way.
Because sometimes the first step isn’t a session, it’s simply saying:

I choose myself.

As for me, Japan is still unfolding. Every day here is a mirror that reflects something new. It reveals a detail or a challenge. It uncovers a piece of myself I didn’t know it was waiting to be seen.

There’s an excitement in not knowing what’s next. Maybe tomorrow it’s a hidden shrine. It could be a lesson on the tatami. Or perhaps it’s a small encounter that shifts everything inside of me.
This is not a story I’ve finished living, it’s alive, expanding with each step I take.

And of course, some days the ‘big discovery’ is just a caramel latte from Lawson. Other days, it’s a fruit smoothie from 7-Eleven. Apparently, even convenience stores here know how to challenge your soul. 😉

If you’d like to follow these discoveries as they happen, you can. I share them daily on my social channels.
They are like little snapshots of the journey before they become stories.

I’m curious, almost childlike, to see what Japan will reveal to me next ❤️