People often ask me how I became a scuba instructor, and it’s never a short answer. The short one? Because I always knew I would. But the real story is longer — and much deeper.

It all started with a family trip to Egypt, when we decided to get certified together — my whole family, my childhood best friend, and her family. Funny enough, that same friend and I would later do our Divemaster course together in Mexico — decades later, after years of not even being in touch. Life has a wild way of looping back.

At one point during my teenage years, when the conversation about my future came up, I boldly told my parents: I’m going to become a dive instructor and move to Italy — not entirely unrelated to the fact that I was head over heels in love with an Italian boy at the time. They were understanding, but encouraged me to get a university degree first — then I could do whatever I wanted. So I did. Life took me into the world of marketing and product management for 15 years..longer than I thought, while diving became something I could only do on holidays, but I never let it go.

I’ve always known I wanted to teach. I love the ocean, yes, but I’m also passionate about people — about connection, about sharing, about healing. Being a scuba instructor is a combination of everything I love: traveling, human connection, and sharing knowledge. It is more than a sport — it’s therapy. It’s meditation.

A few years ago, someone wise made me realize how many of my personal traumas were connected to breath — or rather, the lack of it. It made sense why I felt so safe underwater. While it’s not a natural breathing environment, it always felt instinctively right for me. Maybe I started healing myself long before I even knew I needed healing.

So I took a leap. I had already moved to Spain and was working remotely. At the start of COVID, I did my Divemaster training in Mexico, followed by my Instructor course in the Dominican Republic. I began traveling across Latin America — working, diving, living: Colombia, Guatemala, Belize (yes, I dove the Blue Hole), Peru (oil rig dive!), and of course Galápagos. I spent almost two years on the road.

All the while, I kept going deeper. I was drawn to caves — long before I ever dove one. Back in Hungary, I even started dry caving just to get a feel for it. Naturally, that led me to sidemount and, eventually, cave and technical diving. Eventually I made my way to Greece to study technical diving with one of the best in the field, and then on to Dahab — the technical diving capital of the world. Not just for myself, but bringing my first dive clients there, too.

Of course, there were challenges. Working in high-volume dive shops sometimes burned me out. Living abroad came with culture shock, loneliness, and missing home. I fell in love — in ways that were beautiful and sometimes impossible. I made mistakes. I learned. Often from peers, not “official” mentors. But I also found incredible humans who gave generously of their time and kindness, and formed friendships that will last a lifetime.

These days I specialize in technical diving and sidemount. Caves are still close to my heart. And rocks. Always the rocks. That’s why I feel so at home here in Gozo.

As for the future?
I’d love to go deeper — both literally and metaphorically. I want to spend more time exploring the limits of diving, while organizing new trips (Southeast Asia is calling!), and finding ways to integrate scuba into therapeutic models. I dream of creating something of my own — a project that combines healing, diving, and ocean conservation.

That’s also why I’m starting this blog. I want to write not only about diving — though you’ll find plenty of that — but about everything that makes this journey meaningful. Travel, community, books, the food I discover, my other passions like horseback riding and motorbiking, and thoughts that drift more into the spiritual side of things. Sometimes it’s diving. Sometimes it’s just life — raw, curious, and wide open.

This blog is for the curious, the kind, and those who feel most alive near the water and the rocks. Welcome — and see you above or below the surface.

So, tell me — what brought you to the water? I’d love to hear your story.