Ezgi’s Healing Journey

This is where The True Story continues, where a daughter’s years of devotion, loss, and awakening give birth to a new life, a new calling: my own healing.

  • Ezgi Günyel

    FOUNDER

I didn’t plan any of this.

I never said, “I want to own my own company,” nor was I ever into skincare or beauty.

I own two red lipsticks, and I always forget to apply them.
Life had other plans for me.

It pushed me into a corner so I could wake up.

Now that I know the truth that changed my life, I can’t stay silent anymore.

.

The Quiet Child

I was a shy child, quiet, dreamy, always drawing.

While others talked, I sketched.

I loved music; it was my safe place.

In fact, Ezgi means melody.

“Ezgi doesn’t speak,” my teacher once told my dad.

He was called to school unexpectedly.

“Is there a problem at home?” the teacher asked.

“No,” my father replied, “she’s very talkative at home.”

The truth is, I’ve always been full of emotions — intense highs and lows.

Colours, art, and music were my medicine.

Some people take a drug to get high.

I listen.

The songs of the whirling dervish can put me into a trance within seconds.

They awaken something ancient in my soul — memories from lifetimes ago.

I didn’t have stories to tell back then, only emotions preparing me for a life I would never forget.

  • My family and my mom on the right.

The First Battle

In the year 2000, my mother lost her voice.

“Cancer,” they said.

And the fight began.

She was my everything.

I know she volunteered for this role before we were even born.

Somewhere in the sky, before we landed on Earth, I told her:

“Mom, I have a dream. This lifetime, I want to help humans remember the healer within.”

She smiled and said,

“Then you must first learn how to heal. I will go first — I will be a nurse, a midwife. You will watch me care for others, bring life into the world, and through that, you will learn to heal me and yourself one day.”

My father said, “I’ll be the teacher. She’ll need someone to ask questions.”

My sister added, “I’ll teach her about nature — about animals, plants, and the healing power of the Earth.”

And so, our family became my greatest classroom.

I was nineteen when hospital corridors became my school.

My love for my mother turned me into a nurse.

My father, who trained nurses, became my guide.

And my mother, the nurse and midwife, became both my first patient and my greatest teacher.

Everything I know about healing, I know because of how she raised us —

with presence, patience, and love as medicine.

We refused to give up.

The cancer spread to her brain; she lost speech and movement.

But I learned to communicate with her soul. One blink meant yes. One tear meant pain.

Through that silence, I learned empathy — real empathy.

I could sense what another human felt without words.

We cared for her with devotion.

Her skin never broke, her body never gave up.

We cooked every meal with love, turning food into medicine.

For 19 years, she lay in the centre of our home — not hidden away —

surrounded by love, music, and movement.

My father became her arms and legs.

Every day was a ceremony. Every sigh of relief was a gift from heaven.

We made the impossible possible, yet she was still fading.

Medicine had already given up on her.

“Take her home,” they said. “There’s nothing we can do.”

But we didn’t stop.

Love was stronger than hopelessness.

The Collapse

By 2014, I was exhausted — traveling back and forth between London and Turkey, always on duty, always a soldier.

One night, staring at the ceiling, a quiet thought whispered:

What if I got ill?

I was too afraid to take my own life, but part of me longed for everything to stop — the endless caretaking, the fear, the exhaustion.

A month later, it did.

I woke up with no sensation on the left side of my face and body.

Then came the spinning, the vomiting, the loss of balance.

Half of me had gone silent.

“MS,” they said — Multiple Sclerosis.

My body was attacking my brain, just as my thoughts had been attacking me for years.

I was admitted to the hospital, alone in a white room, too weak to stand.

Steroids dripped into my veins. Fear and confusion mixed with an unexpected feeling — peace.

For the first time in my life, I couldn’t care for anyone.

Not my mother, not my family — no one.

Instead, people were caring for me.

And even though I was sick, I felt something I hadn’t felt in years: relief.

No one needed me.

I was finally free — free to rest, free to feel, free to dream.

And in that stillness, something whispered to me:

“Earth Healing Boutique.”

The words came like a memory from another time.

I didn’t know what they meant, but they felt alive.

Lying in that hospital bed, I took out my phone and created a Pinterest board called Earth Healing Boutique.

Was I remembering my future, or were the steroids playing tricks on me?

Maybe both.

But in that fragile, quiet moment, something extraordinary happened —

hope landed in my body.

Amid pain and weakness, I felt a spark of joy.

It was unbelievable — the beginning of my healing.

The Awakening

Back in London, I began working as a web designer.

My music played in my ears; my passion poured into every pixel.

I designed websites for others but forgot to design a life for myself.

Fatigue became my shadow. My body weakened.

I was injecting myself every day with MS medication that was supposed to “help,”

but all it did was suppress my immune system — the very force that was meant to protect me.

It didn’t make sense.

These injections weren’t healing MS; they were only quieting the symptoms.

But who could guarantee that suppressing my immune system wouldn’t open the door to another illness one day?

The more I injected, the weaker I became.

Hashimoto. Depression. More pills. More labels.

Nothing helped.

Until one day, I heard the term “Pain Body.”

Eckhart Tolle’s words pierced through the noise.

“Yes,” I thought, “that’s what I have.”

A pain body — alive in my stomach, full of unexpressed sadness and control.

Then came my teacher, Dr. Joe Dispenza.

He spoke science. My mind finally listened.

Could I heal myself through meditation alone?

My logical self didn’t believe it, so I made it a challenge.

I stopped all medication. I waited for the next attack.

Three months later, it came.

My legs went numb again. Fear returned — but this time, I was ready.

I sat in silence. I meditated with everything in me.

Not a gentle meditation — a fire, a vow.

On the first day, I felt my toes again.

Within a week, I could walk.

I cried, not because I was healed,

but because I finally remembered:

If I can do this… what can I not do?

The Return

That was the moment Earth to You was born — not as a business,

but as a return to nature, to balance, to truth.

I realized that the body is a temple and healing is remembering.

True beauty isn’t found in a bottle; it’s what radiates when body, mind, and soul are in harmony.

But every day, people look into the mirror and whisper, “I am not enough,”

through rituals that separate them from their own power.

Creams, serums, injections — all trying to fix what was never broken.

Earth to You was born to change that.

To bring people back to homeostasis — the sacred balance of the body.

To remind them that beauty and healing are one and the same.

Not everyone needs to reach rock bottom to awaken.

Why not awaken through beauty — through gentle, natural touch, through connection to the Earth?

Our products are not about beauty.

They are a return — a revolution of trust.

An invitation to let your body lead the way back to itself.

Because the same power that shaped the body is the power that heals it.

Let your beauty be your remembering.

Let Earth to You be your return to the power that was always yours.

,with all my love
Ezgi (Melody)