Today I am still in shock, caught in a strange silence inside myself. My teacher revealed to me that I am a starseed. The word itself had always sounded distant, almost ridiculous, something I only half-remembered from a random YouTube ad that said, “If you look younger than your age, maybe you are a platinum starseed…” or something along those lines. I never paid attention.

But now, it begins to make sense.

I have always looked far younger than I am. Annoyingly so. Every time I bought alcohol I had to show my ID, sometimes even my passport, and entering bars meant endless questioning at the door. Eventually I just gave up going to bars altogether. It wasn’t really my nature anyway, so maybe it was a blessing.

At work, looking too young became another curse. I was constantly shouted at, bossed around, treated like a kid—sometimes even by people half my age. The irony is that I am almost old enough to be their parent. And yet, they scolded me as if I were the child.

After years of this, I finally reached a breaking point. I let go of everything, I surrendered. Awakening came, and then the healing—the process of calling back all the lost fragments of myself. My teacher’s words still echo in me: “You are a Lemurian Starseed. Your subconscious keeps repeating: this world is not for me. That is why blending into human society has always been so hard.”

The truth is, I have always feared humans. I avoid people and spend my days with birds instead. Wild creatures give me peace. With people, I help when I can—but then I disappear. The more I interact, the more I get hurt. And when I look around, I feel there are so few real humans. Many appear more like animals, monsters, or demons wearing human faces.

That explains why my life has been so unbearably difficult. Honestly, if I had been just a “normal” human, I probably would not have survived. And yet, whenever I reached the edge of despair, something inside me fought back. A hidden force, like a reminder that even negative energy can be transformed into fuel. Energy is energy. If positive energy can create, then negative energy can rebound as power too.

I used to wonder if the harsh winters of the northern countries could somehow be turned into energy, all that snow transformed into light. Maybe my life works the same way—turning pain into energy to keep moving forward.

Now that the tests of this life feel “completed,” I find myself strangely empty. I don’t want to do anything. I don’t know what to do. I eat a little, meditate a little, and walk outside a little. Somehow, even in this emptiness, people who come near me feel peace. Their sadness softens. Maybe my state of stillness can spread to others.

There is also one mystery I can’t ignore. When I was a child, my cousin found a crystal-clear stone, long as a hand, like frozen water. He gave it to me, and I have kept it for nearly forty years. Perhaps… it is not just a stone. Perhaps it is a tool of healing from Lemuria itself.

I will share more of my story, piece by piece. It has never been easy. But maybe it will help someone else who feels like they do not belong here.