As a kid, I was very active and very social.

Always moving, playing, inventing, building, and bringing people together. 'Un bambino vivace,' they would tell me, a kid full of life.

But as I grew up, something changed.

I was longing for the same lighthearted, deep connection I had as a kid. What I found instead was a world driven by performance and competition, where you have to be stronger, better, faster. Win or feel like you don’t matter.

An endless striving for more. A “more” that felt empty and meaningless.

At some point, I couldn’t bear it anymore.

I was living a life that wasn’t mine. “I don’t want to live like this. There must be another way,” I told myself.

I didn’t know where to go or what I was looking for. But I knew I couldn’t stay.

So I left.

______

What followed were years of discovery. Exploring communities, eco-villages, alternative education, social entrepreneurship, the so-called "conscious world".

There was care, awareness, softness, big ideals, strong values, but often, I felt something was missing.

Conflict was avoided. The uncomfortable parts were softened, bypassed.

I was longing for something else.

A way to bridge conflict and care.

To confront without disconnecting.

To be in my strength without hurting others or myself.

I wanted to bring power and care together.

That search led me to become an emotional coach. Supporting people to connect with their emotions. Not the polite version, but the raw, honest ones.

I felt closer than ever to my purpose.

And still, something was missing but I needed to experience it bodily to understand what that was.

_______

A few months later. Portugal. A night full of stars.

It could have been the beginning of a romantic story. But mine was not.

The person I loved was with someone else. Someone I deeply disliked.

My body tensed. Heart pounding. Thoughts went wild. Jealousy. Anger. Fear. Sadness. Shame.

All at once.

Years of inner work helped me recognize the pattern.

I was in survival mode. A full fight response.

I could barely hold myself back from acting on the violent images that were populating my mind.

But inside, I was burning.

_______

I needed connection. To feel I wasn’t alone.

I needed to feel safe, and at the same time give space to the turmoil inside me. Not through words. Through the body.

I asked a close friend to push each other. I needed to use my strength, and to feel his. Soon we were on the floor, grappling and tumbling like two cubs.

We went all in, full intensity, and yet I felt completely safe. We were taking care of each other.

It was the first time in my life I could meet myself and another person with my full power, with the rawness of my emotions, while making sure we didn’t hurt each other.

We kept going until we were exhausted. Then we just lay there, breathing heavily.

In that moment, something in me shifted.

Living my emotions through my body, with power and care, completely transformed my inner state.

I felt clear. Grounded. Centered.

I was deeply connected to myself and my power.

______

What followed that night felt almost unreal.

I found myself speaking clearly, expressing what I needed with honesty. My beloved and I shared one of the most open and deeply connecting moments of our relationship.

I even had a calm conversation with the man I struggled with.

I was rooted in reality, instead of getting pulled into dramatic stories in my head.

All of this came from that moment of physical, caring confrontation.

That night changed something in me.

I saw that power doesn’t have to break connection. That intensity and care can go hand in hand.

That’s what Playfight is.

A space where you don’t hold back your strength, and you don’t drop your care.

A space to meet yourself and another human being fully.

Body to body.

Alive. Present. Clear.