Our Heroic Journey
By Layla Caroni, Guest Contributor
At the start of 2021, I was on my knees, looking at myself in the mirror in my Tribeca apartment in New York City.
I looked into my eyes. I had heard of tapping, so I took my finger and tapped between my eyebrows. “This is it.” I said to myself as I stared at my reflection. “Five years from now, things will be different.” Nothing happened…
I was 27. I had been struggling with an eating disorder since I was 17, stuck in a loop I couldn’t escape. Except, from the outside, it didn’t look that way. I had completed an Ivy League education with top grades, had a great job, friends, romantic interests—everything looked perfect.
But truly, I was unhappy. I felt alone in the world and hated myself. Professionally, I was bored, stuck, and lacked purpose. Financially, I was trying to keep up with my New York lifestyle. Romantically, my relationships were dysfunctional, unhealthy, and marked by an inability to express emotions and access vulnerability. Overall, I was lost, unable to process my emotions, hiding from it all through food obsession, over-exercising, shopping, partying, drinking, socializing, and dysfunctional relationships.
Driven by these feelings and the struggle to find a support system that truly understood, I embarked on what I now see as the most significant journey of my life: my Hero’s journey.
I call it a Hero’s journey because it felt damn heroic to me. When I look back, I am in awe of what I was able to do—the oceans I navigated, sometimes alone, sometimes with
companions, sometimes with mentors and teachers. But through it all, I was always right there, by my side.
I don’t see my eating disorder as “a disorder,” something that happened “to me.” Rather, I see it as an alarm I had ignored for too long, signaling that in this body, in this soul, there was no self-worth, no true self-acceptance (even though I tried so hard to appear confident), no self-love.
It was one of many symptoms calling my attention to a path I had to embark on. My call to evolution. My call to purpose. My call to find myself.
And like any hero, when we hear the call, we just can’t ignore it. If we do, it gets stronger, louder.
When I finally took the call, it was terrifying. I was scared of losing myself in the process, of not finding my way back. But staying where I was? That was not an option.
There is nothing more painful than slow suffocation. Even if growth and healing are terrifying, nothing is worse than remaining in the pain I was in.
So I took the call. And along this journey, I met new friends, people on the same path as mine. I realized I was not alone. I met people who inspired me, who helped me, directly or indirectly, to embrace my authenticity and see the beauty in it. In myself.
The Hero’s journey is not about becoming a Hero. No, it is about unbecoming all the ways in which you have forced your Hero self into small cages, stripping it of its power.
My journey was a shedding of the layers of not-self to uncover who I really am.
And don’t get me wrong—I still feel fear. But now, I listen to her rather than push her down.
Because when I listen, she points me exactly where I need to go.
I still feel heartbreak. I still feel frustration. But now, I embrace them, because they show me where I am resisting life, where I need to let go. Even if letting go means leaving love behind. Because we do not evolve solely through joy and pleasure—not always, at least. We evolve through sadness, through pain. It is in the darkness that we find the highest light of all: the Self. Pure. Unbound. Free.
My life path has taken me deep. I’ve had so many phoenix moments in the last four to five years. Since I chose to take the call. To rise. To walk through the fire.
I used to be so afraid of pain, so afraid of getting lost in it. But by fearing it, I stayed stuck on the outskirts.
Then, that day in front of the mirror, I decided to jump in. And I realized—the problem is not finding the way back.
The Hero never finds their way back.
Because the way back is not the way out.
The only way out is through. And it is unknown.
And while it may burn as you walk through the flames, why not choose to hold your own hand? To look at everything with objectivity, with curiosity. To allow the flames to destroy everything that does not belong to you. And as you watch it crumble, trust that the real you, the true, authentic, whole you, will rise from the ashes.
Because you will find your way out. And you will rise.
And no, you will not have to “manage” your eating disorder forever.
Because when you eradicate the root, you realize—it was never just about the eating disorder.
The call to the journey was about bringing you back to yourself. To your true, authentic, embodied self.
Unbound by shame, pain, and programming.
Wild. Free. Integrated. Whole.
And when you rise from the destruction, you will hear the song that has followed you all along. And you will have the choice to bring that song home—to inspire others, to show them that it is possible.
If I could speak to that version of myself in the mirror, on that cold day in New York, I would say: Yes. Just the decision to embark on the path shows that you know. You may not know that you know, but you do. Your soul knows. She is carrying you. Trust her.
Just the thought of embarking on the journey means the whisper of your essence has spoken—and you are listening.
Don’t doubt yourself for a second.
If you are afraid, good. It means you are breaking free from your chains.
If life falls apart, if people fall away, good. It means you are shedding what does not belong to you.
If you feel like you cannot go on, if you are tired—just look within. You have everything you need in order to face this moment. You would not be here if you didn’t.
And if you feel alone, know that you are always guided. And that even in solitude, you have yourself. You will always have yourself.
And when you feel like giving up, remember: You are not doing this just for you. You are doing it for all of us. You are doing it for them, too.
And when you find safety, when you awaken the Hero within, I hope you will share your voice, your path—the elixir of life that set you free.
Layla Caroni is a yoga and meditation teacher, mentor and facilitator dedicated to hold healing space for those struggling with body image, eating disorders, and self-acceptance. Having navigated her own 10-year journey of recovery, Layla integrates nervous system regulation, mindfulness, and movement to support deep healing. She specializes in guiding individuals back to safety within their own bodies, reconnecting them with trust, balance, and inner peace.