The Beauty of Peaks, Valleys, and Inner Growth

How a life-changing hike to the Balkan Alps led to unexpected healing.

It’s taken me several months to put this trip into words - not because it’s been out of mind, but because its impact has been so profound. That’s the beautiful thing about once-in-a-lifetime experiences - they change you in ways that take time to fully unravel.

Let me take you back to June 2024, when I found myself on a two-week hiking trip through the Balkan Alps with seven other women. Two of them I already knew, five of them I didn’t, and by the end, every single one of them felt like family.

Picture this: a group of mostly single, childless women in their late 30s to late 40s trekking through some badass mountains. What does that look like? A symphony of deep, heartfelt conversations about life, love and careers, mixed with a whole lot of belly laughs. Add some breathtaking scenery, and you’ve got the perfect recipe for the exact community I’d been craving for years.

A moment for the Balkan Babes

Let’s start with the headline fact: we hiked 170km across three countries (Albania, Kosovo, Montenegro). Can you believe it?!

Our days were a mix of highs and lows - literally, as we climbed up and down 3,000m mountains daily, trekking across rolling hills, trails and shepherd paths (a special shoutout to anxiety hill, which tested more than just our legs). We endured heatwaves and battled norovirus on the sides of mountains, yet still managed to find joy in the simplest things- stumbling upon natural swimming holes and waterfalls, watching the fireflies at night, and guessing whether our nightly accommodations would be a cozy cabin with eight bunk beds or a surprise luxury retreat. Every bit of it was perfect, even the odd cold shower and endless parade of meat, cheese, and tomato sandwiches.

It was the best of hikes; it was the worst of hikes.

I thought I was signing up for a lesson in resilience—proof that I could handle life’s challenges. But what I actually learned was far more profound, something I’ll carry with me forever.

One day, during our daily hour of silent hiking (which, by the way, I highly recommend), something extraordinary happened. Near the end of the hour, I felt her: a happy, carefree version of my younger self - little me - skipping alongside me on the trail.

She splashed through a small stream, the sun warming her tiny shoulders, wearing the same blue dress I’d loved as a child. I knew she wasn’t real, but the joy of seeing her was undeniable. My shoulders felt lighter, my heart fuller. It was as if years of therapy, coaching, and inner child healing work had culminated in this one magical moment.

For the first time in a long time, my nervous system felt safe, connected and at peace. I had come home to myself; a piece of me truly healed. Standing in the middle of Albania, tears streaming down my face, I was overcome with pride (not delulu from the blazing heat, I promise!). This wasn’t just a moment of joy; it was a milestone in a profound journey of healing trauma that had been unfolding for me for years. 

Here’s the thing about perfectionism though—it’s sneaky.

When I signed up for the hike, it wasn’t just me—it was my inner child, too—eagerly seeing it as a chance to "fix" something in myself, to uncover new lessons, and dive deeper into my healing journey. That little perfectionist voice whispered, If I just work a little harder, heal a little deeper, climb a little higher, I’ll finally have the life that I want.

Oof.

To be honest, I didn’t expect that the real transformation would come from surrendering. I was too focused on the future. Letting go of the need to control the outcome, trusting the process, and simply allowing life to unfold. Since releasing my grip on "getting it right", joy, creativity, and meaningful experiences have flowed naturally - both on the trail and in my everyday life.

I could give you a neat list of things this hike taught me:

• We’re capable of so much more than we think.

• We can do hard things, even when it feels impossible.

• Community makes every challenge a little lighter.

• And, for the love of all things holy, invest in a great backpack.

But the biggest lesson wasn’t about climbing the mountains. It was about recognizing how far I’d already come.

Because here’s the truth: Progress isn’t always about summiting the next peak. Sometimes, it’s about appreciating the journey - the grit of the climb, the quiet of the descent, and the beauty of the moments in-between. Life isn’t just made of peaks; it’s shaped by the valleys too. And when you learn to love those in-between moments, that’s where the magic happens.

One day, the mountain that is in front of you will be so far behind you, it will barely be visible in the distance. But the person you become learning to get over it? That will stay with you forever. That is the point of the mountain.

- Brianna Wiest

So, where am I now, months later? I’m still connected with my hiking crew—we celebrate each other as we navigate life post-adventure and are already discussing the next hike location (eek!).

Somewhere in Albania

Since then, I’ve also developed a conscious practice of checking in with myself, tuning into my nervous system, and listening to the needs of ‘little me.’ Turns out, she loves to play, which is how I’ve found myself in the UK, living and exploring here for the past few months. (Spoiler: the mountains don’t quite compare to the Balkans.)

But this chapter isn’t about chasing mountains—it’s about following my heart. It’s about discovering a place where I feel deeply connected and savoring the freedom to live life on my own terms. Sometimes, I even wonder if I’ve lived past lifetimes here... but that’s a story for another time.

What have the peaks and valleys of your journey taught you? I’d love to hear your insights in the comments.