I was driving there afraid I'd realize I hate myself.

The 2 days leading up to this trip, I couldn't get off the fucking toilet.

The prospect of sitting in complete darkness for 3 days with nothing but my own thoughts scared the shit out of me.

Two main thoughts were:

• "What if I realize I need to leave my wife so she can be with someone who can truly appreciate her?"
  (I can't stand the thought of forcing the woman I love to be with a man with no direction in life.)
• "What if it turns out I completely lost the passion for the business I'm in?"
  (I can't stand the thought of doing something without loving it fully, and feeling like I'm making an impact.)

On top of it all, the man I rented the cabin from told me: "Whatever you think you'll work through probably won't work, so just surrender and see where the darkness takes you."

Day 1: the Purge

I unpacked, had my first meal, turned off the lights and took my first shower in the dark.

Surreal.

Not sure whether it was the combination of relaxing hot water and sensory deprivation, but I literally felt like it completely reset my nervous system. All the tension I carried started melting away.

Then I got dressed and sat down in the armchair.

He told me to surrender, so I did.

Random thoughts at first. Then about 1-2 hours in, it started.

I could literally visualize my thoughts flying out of my head.

The bad thoughts, the stories you build after misunderstandings, fights, bad comments - all of it.

They started dissolving right in front of my eyes.

No more holding on to shit that drags you down.

All the stories you create - because of constant stimulation and distractions - don't have the time to leave your head and die on their own. Instead, they accumulate, leading to pain, cynicism, burnout.

I started feeling light again.

The closing thought? "Stop taking yourself so seriously, man."

And then I went to bed.

Day 2: the Business

Shower, breakfast, coffee, and back to work.

But before I tell you what happened here - the food. Wow.

There was this older lady who came once a day to bring me home-cooked meals.

When you have an entire day in the darkness ahead of you, you become more intentional with everything. The tenderness of the meat, the crunchiness of the vegetables, the sweetness of fruit. Unreal. You start tasting notes you never had before.

As soon as I was finished, I was ready to get back to work.

My mind drifted toward my family for a moment - then pulled itself back to the business. Like it knew there was something here that needed resolving first.

And it hit me. I've been paying attention to the wrong signals, focusing on the wrong audience, which ultimately led to subpar content.

What's special about the work I do with clients? What's helping me build strong relationships with them and ultimately have such a good success rate?

It's not workout programs that adjust to their schedule or different gyms. It's not nutrition and how they finally stop gaining weight on the road or during a tough stretch at work.

It's the inner fucking work. The conversations we have. How two mission-driven men sit down together, drop their guard, trust each other, pick everything apart, understand the patterns, and put it back together to build an identity that becomes the main driver behind long-term transformation.

That's it. That's what I need to talk about in my content. The inner fucking work leading to lasting transformations - not restaurant protocols, hotel workouts, or high-protein fucking recipes.

And the audience? The most satisfying work I've ever done was always with founders. Builders, dreamers, misfits who aren't afraid to carve their own path. Guys who see health coaching as an asset in their own growth - not something they're ashamed of because they have a reputation to protect.

Things they deal with? Same shit I deal with. Same shit any high performer who builds his own thing deals with: guilt, shame, workaholism, inability to disconnect.

That's what I need to talk about. That's what this newsletter needs to be about. Client breakthroughs and my own struggles to become a better father, coach, business owner.

It got me excited to start recording videos again - it's been over a year since I recorded the last one because I was so blocked. I want to record them again because I finally have a truth worth sharing.

I'm fucking back. I can go to bed now.

Day 3: the People

I woke up to a very symbolic dream.

My 7-year-old has this thing now where he likes speaking like a baby.

It drives me crazy.

In the dream, I could see myself as a little kid - doing the exact same thing. Speaking like a fucking baby.

And then I woke up.

My first thought? "What the fuck are you doing? Let the kid be the kid, man. You used to be one too."

I couldn't wait to see him again, hug him, and show with every ounce of my being that he's perfect the way he is.

Then my wife.

I went in terrified I'd come out knowing I needed to leave. Instead I found the opposite.

From all the women I've met, she's the only one I can imagine myself being with.

I fantasized about her, imagined all the things I want to do to her after I'm back.

I even imagined growing old together, which was a very comforting feeling.

I realized I'd been so out of alignment, it prevented me from seeing her.

Now I had space. That felt new.

Then my mom.

Complicated relationship. Ever since my dad passed, our contact has been arms-length, let's say. I'm not going to explain why now. But the distance didn't sit well with me.

Every day during the retreat, Pani Grażyna - the older lady who brought me home-cooked meals - was the highlight of my day. Warm, motherly energy. Every time she came, we spent a few minutes talking through the door.

At some point it hit me: my mom is someone's Pani Grażyna too.

She was the first person I FaceTimed when I got home. I saw her - truly saw her - for the first time in years.

I like the way this day closed.

I slept like a baby on the last night.

Day 4: the Exit

I woke up at 5am. I could turn on the lights, but I wanted one last shower, breakfast, and coffee in the dark.

Then, instead of turning on the lights, I went outside first.

The sunrise hit me like a train. Overwhelming. Beautiful. Three days of darkness and then that - it felt like the world making a point.

A perfect symbol for what comes next.

Closing words

Like I said at the beginning, I was afraid I'd find out I hate myself.

Turned out, I like myself quite a bit. And I wasn't bored for a single minute.

It all came at a perfect moment.

Instead of blowing it all up, I've gained clarity, confidence, compassion.