Spoiler Alert: Life Didn’t Go As Planned (No Hogwarts Letter, Just a Fragile Sticker)

Muah, pats, and hugs! 🫶🏽 LUV to all and everyone 🥰

Another day, another sip of the latest tea from my little world. Let me spam you with something you definitely didn’t ask for (and who needs permission anyway?).

So, let’s recap what you already know about me (because isn’t it fun to have me nonchalantly pop up in your head between your to-do list and that morning coffee?). I’m a life coach, pole dancer, and architect — but in real life, the order was actually the opposite.

If you’re curious about what coaching means to me and how I found my way into it, I’ve shared more here:

Why Even Coach and Not a Single Word About My Monstera?

So, how did this whole architect thing happen to me?

I won’t lie — it wasn’t my ‘dream-dream’ as a kid. Somehow, though, I had this idea that architects were these boho creatives, lounging in parks, sipping cocktails with those tiny umbrellas. I was convinced I needed to join their club (I mean, where’s my owl, Hogwarts?). Spoiler alert: reality had other plans. 🙄 I realized I needed some serious drawing chops, which, surprise, I didn’t have, and classes were out of reach. So, it was back to reality — finding a different way to figure out life.

I landed at a technical university (cue the algebra, trigonometry, and physics snooze fest ) and got myself a degree in railways. My mom thought I’d follow in her footsteps and maybe find a hubby before 21 — spoiler alert: she bet on the wrong horse (out of three girls, I’m the only one who’s not married — and I’m the big sis). Amidst all that math and engineering mess, I met someone who nudged me towards architecture. So, I pulled double duty, juggling two fields for two years, fueled by sheer determination (and coffee), and finally snagged both degrees — architecture and railways (why stop at one?).

I’ve been at this architectural world since 19, and while it’s been a wild ride, here’s the real talk: my inner child has been side-eyeing me for years. I kept hopping jobs in Moscow, chasing some undefined ‘this isn’t quite it’ vibe, until Japanese spirits shipped me off to Tokyo — with a fragile sticker slapped on my back. There, I was soothed, healed, and introduced to a whole new rooftop life (not for today, though), but maaan, it took some time.

But let me circle back a bit. Growing up, my parents were workhorses — like, they put in the grind but weren’t exactly thrilled about it. And me? I swore I’d never get bored at work — kid promises are solid like that. But here’s the thing — I didn’t realize (or maybe I just ignored it) that my inner child, my gut feelings, all my ‘nope, this isn’t it’ moments, were screaming at me for years. There was more my inner child wanted, and I just wasn’t paying attention.

Tokyo didn’t magically fix everything (shocker), and I spent two years desperately trying to reconnect with myself, asking over and over, ‘What do I really want?’ All the usual suspects — money, travel, love — just didn’t hit the spot. Then one day, biking home, the realization smacked me like an unexpected rain shower (it’s a typhoon season in Tokyo rn)— I just wanted to know myself better. Sounds simple, but wow, it landed hard. I was a crying, smiling mess in the middle of the street. It wasn’t about external stuff like cash or vacations; it was about me.

That was two years ago, and let me tell you, it’s been one heck of a trip. Finding time is the real struggle (Japanese architects work… ummm, is a lot, and the paycheck? Meh 🙄). I’m focused on cutting down the work hours and putting more time into my own jar. And no, I’m not waiting around for the perfect freelance gig to fall into my lap — I’m studying, hustling, and riding the waves of self-discovery. It’s tiring, but I’ve never felt more alive. 🔥

So here I am — architect to keep the bills paid, pole dance coach to share my passion, and intuitive life coach helping people figure themselves out at their own pace. It’s a delicate balancing act, but it’s mine. And let’s not forget my little side gig of trying to keep my Monstera #11 alive.

So now you know a bit — hopefully, this was a fun, digestible slice of my world (if not, oops… but am I really sorry?). There’s more to spill, but hey, that’s enough for today. And who knows? Maybe my Monstera will get some love today… but let’s not get too ambitious.

Pats,
Anya 🫰🏽

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Muah! 😘