From Grief to Growth: Insights from my Journey to Becoming a Psychologist in Amsterdam

Welcome

This blog is a space for reflections, ideas, and conversations about mental health, growth, and navigating life’s challenges.

I may not consider myself a natural writer, but I do believe in sharing real experiences, the kind that remind us we are not alone. And it feels right to begin with my own story.

My Life Didn’t Go as Expected

I grew up in a small town in the north of Transylvania and spent my 20s in Cluj-Napoca. For as long as I can remember, I wanted something more, a life that felt aligned with who I was and what I valued: freedom and personal autonomy, equality, open-mindedness, tolerance for diversity, honesty, social responsibility, efficient systems built on trust.

I always knew I wanted to live abroad.

What I didn’t expect was how difficult the journey would be.

Loss, Grief, and Hitting the Bottom

Ten years ago, I lost my mother to cancer.

That period was not “transformational” in a positive sense. It was the hardest time of my life. I felt depressed, overwhelmed by guilt, anger, and rumination. At times, I didn’t see a way forward. Grief took me to a very dark place.

Around the same time, my relationship ended. I had to find a place to live, take care of myself, and somehow continue functioning while everything felt like it fell apart.

And yet, looking back, it was also the beginning of something important: learning that even in the most difficult moments, we can slowly find our way forward.

Searching for direction

I started dreaming about opening a small restaurant inspired by my mother’s cooking. It was my way of keeping her close, of giving meaning to the loss.

At the same time, I was seriously considering moving abroad.

I started researching, looking at options, and understanding what it would realistically take to leave Romania. The Netherlands stood out, it made sense on paper: professionally, socially, culturally.

In parallel with my private practice, I started working in HR, thinking it would give me better chances to access the international job market.

Then I visited Amsterdam.

It was a grey week in February, and I loved it. That’s when the idea became a decision.

Taking the Leap

After many applications and rejections, I decided to go anyway.

My first opportunity in the Netherlands was a recruiter role in an agricultural company, in a small town. It was far from what I imagined for myself, but I took it.

That experience was intense.

I recruited Romanian workers, translated documents, supported them in adapting, mediated conflicts, and advocated for their rights. I was also living in the same accommodation with them and even experienced harassment.

It was not easy. But it taught me how much I could handle, how quickly I could adapt, and how resourceful I could be in difficult environments.

It was a short but defining chapter.

Burnout and What Actually Happened

A few months later, I moved to Amsterdam and started working as a recruiter in the maritime industry.

For a while, I was motivated, engaged, and doing well.

What changed was not the pressure to perform, it was the environment.

When my manager left the team, I started feeling disconnected, unmotivated, and eventually stuck. My energy dropped, my results dropped, and I couldn’t recognize myself in the way I was functioning.

After leaving, I spent weeks sleeping long hours, trying to recover.

That’s when I realized I went through burnout, without noticing it while it was happening.

Coming Back to What Matters

Throughout all these years, one thing remained constant: I continued working with clients. Even when my career shifted, even when life felt uncertain, psychotherapy stayed present in my life.

Over time, something became clearer and harder to ignore. I could no longer see myself in recruitment or in traditional HR roles. What I did notice, though, was how I felt after sitting with someone in a meaningful session: grounded, energized, and deeply fulfilled. Knowing that I was contributing, even in a small way, to someone’s wellbeing felt profoundly meaningful.

That feeling stayed with me. It grew into a quiet but persistent desire, not just to continue this work, but to make space for more of it. I realized I wanted my days to be centered around these conversations, this presence, this kind of impact.

At the same time, I was fortunate to have the support of my partner, whose encouragement helped me trust this pull and take it seriously.

Today, I work as a psychologist in Amsterdam, supporting individuals, couples, and expats, many of whom are navigating transitions, uncertainty, anxiety, or the feeling of being “in between” worlds.

What I know Now

If there is one thing I’ve learned, it’s this: we are much stronger than we think.

But strength is not about pushing through everything alone. It’s about allowing yourself to breathe, to reflect, to ask for support, and to keep moving, even in small steps.

I know what it feels like to go through grief, guilt, anger, fear, hope, and starting over.

And I also know what it feels like to slowly rebuild, to find direction again, and to create something meaningful from that place.

A Final Thought

For some time, I thought I would open a restaurant in my mother’s memory.

That dream changed shape.

But in a way, the intention remained the same: to create a space where people feel seen, supported, and at home, even if just for a while. 

If you are going through a difficult period, feeling stuck, or simply trying to make sense of where you are in life, you don’t have to do it alone.