After years of being powered by ambition and hard work, high-flyer Eve Novikova crashed and burned – losing everything that had defined her life so far. But it was the start of a new chapter of reinvention, good health – and enlightenment.
My high-flying career hid a dangerous truth: I was exhausted, overweight and falling apart. For years, I lived in the rhythm of relentless doing; building and running a successful global events logistics company, managing complex international projects, raising two children and maintaining a full social calendar. Like many high achievers, I wore ambition and resilience as badges of honour. Sleepless nights, constant exhaustion and emotional strain felt like the inevitable price of success.
I had worked in the events industry since I was 22. Constant travel, high intensity and pressure had been my normal for as long as I could remember. When I was 28, I got married and added family life to an already insanely demanding schedule.
When my daughter Nikita was born fifteen years ago, I only took a five-month break. Four years later, I was pregnant with our second child and in the final stages of securing the largest project I had ever worked on. I travelled constantly during critical negotiations and, on the day the agreement was signed, I had to leave almost immediately to catch my flight because it was the last day I could legally get on the plane. I still vividly remember sitting on a maternity ball at home trying to finish the final event manual before leaving for the hospital for labour, pausing through contractions and typing between them.
Four weeks after giving birth to my son via a second C-section, I moved my entire family abroad to Baku so I could oversee and deliver a project on-site. I only now realise how extreme that situation truly was. Most people need proper time to just recover physically from major surgery, let alone cope with the hormonal and emotional demands of caring for a newborn. I was in my early thirties, exhausted, barely sleeping or eating and trying to navigate life in a completely new country with a four-year-old child and a five-week-old baby at home. I mostly saw my family asleep. I would leave for work before they woke up and return home after they had gone to bed. The project was a huge success but the pace was unsustainable and emotionally draining. I now realise just how much I had normalised pressure for myself over many years.
Covid changed everything. Within weeks, every international project worth hundreds of thousands of pounds was cancelled. For the first time in my adult life, I was in one place with almost nothing to do and it became the darkest chapter of my life. Just before lockdown, my husband and I had The Talk that had been overdue for quite some time. We both admitted that we had grown apart and were unhappy. Our children were our greatest priority, but our situation was beginning to affect them too. Initially, we attempted to work through our problems, but we decided to separate, living together while privately navigating a separation we had not yet shared with our children or wider family.
It felt as though everything that had once grounded me was disappearing at the same time: my business was collapsing, my marriage was ending and we had to put our family home up for sale. I felt deeply isolated. With lockdown restrictions in place, I could not escape into work or travel, or properly see family and loved ones to share what I was going through emotionally.
The years of a high-pressure job had taken their toll on my health, I had gained weight and developed chronic insomnia. Then the travel stopped, the projects disappeared and so did the adrenaline. Physically, mentally and emotionally, I collapsed. I remember waking up in our spare room with the sun on my face, hearing my children’s voices in the kitchen, yet feeling completely unable to lift my head from the pillow. I had always been naturally cheerful and positive, but in that moment I felt empty and stripped of the will that had once driven me all my life. That was the moment I realised I needed help.
Once the house was sold, I found a small cottage in the beautiful town of Bovey Tracey on the edge of Dartmoor National Park. Having agreed on fully shared custody I was suddenly spending two weeks every month entirely alone for the first time in years. During the other two weeks, I was a single mother trying to support my children through the confusion and emotional pain of divorce. The life I had so carefully constructed unravelled almost overnight, along with my sense of identity.
The events industry is an environment of perpetual urgency: multiple moving parts, constant change, high stakes and endless variables beyond your control. I had convinced myself I thrived on the pace and excitement, in reality I had been running almost entirely on adrenaline within a lifestyle that revolved around lunches, dinners, networking events and receptions. There were early starts, high-pressure days, client entertainment, wine and very late nights.
Outwardly, I tried to remain composed, but inwardly, I was burned out, anxious and struggling in ways I could not yet articulate. Lockdown finally gave me the time to confront what had happened to me and, instinctively, I knew I needed something deeper than conventional solutions, and I began immersing myself in Eastern philosophy. That was when I came across videos by an Indian guru called Sadhguru. Something about his approach resonated deeply with me because it felt logical and practical rather than abstract. Through the Isha Foundation, he had created tools for wellbeing and self-transformation that had helped millions around the world.
Some of my friends had practised meditation for years and often told me it was exactly what I needed. I was curious, but I also dismissed them as hippies with too much free time. I was so overstimulated and restless that I could barely sit still for a few minutes, let alone make it through one guided meditation practice. But suddenly I did have time and I discovered a simple guided practice called Miracle of Mind, offered freely online. I began meditating daily, as well as doing a daily yogic practice called Shambhavi Mahamudra Kriya. Through meditation and conscious breathing, my nervous system slowly began returning to balance. Sleep started happening naturally again. My eating habits and lifestyle changed. But more importantly, I began to rediscover a sense of peace and inner stability I hadn’t realised was possible. I reconnected with myself; not the adrenaline-fuelled version, but a calmer and more grounded person.
Gradually, I noticed my anxiety softening. Although my external circumstances were still difficult they no longer had the same emotional grip on me. The practice also made me aware of unconscious habits. I started recognising the difference between eating to nourish myself and reaching for caffeine or sugar out of stress or exhaustion. As I became more conscious, my choices changed naturally. Wine no longer appealed to me. My dependence on caffeine - once five to seven espressos a day - simply disappeared. I stopped drinking coffee entirely and even black tea began making me feel light-headed. Heavy foods, meat and rich fats gradually became unappealing. Sweets and cakes no longer interested me. I started cooking lighter meals and eating smaller portions. I noticed profound changes in my physical wellbeing, emotional balance and energy levels. It felt as though someone had quietly opened the curtains in a darkened room and let sunlight stream in. I discovered there was almost no better feeling than waking up early with a light body and clear mind, ready for meditation and the day ahead. The impact was dramatic. I lost 20kg and, more importantly, felt stronger and more energised than ever before.
My relationships changed too. I often feel that if I had discovered these practices and gained this level of awareness before our separation, I may have found a way to save my marriage. The biggest transformation, however, has been internal. Rather than feeling overwhelmed or reactive, I began questioning where my career was truly leading and what deeper purpose it served. Although I had always genuinely loved my work, and by that stage it was finally providing a very good financial return again, I started asking myself what kind of legacy I wanted to create through it.
Over the years, I had developed an incredible set of skills and experiences and I increasingly questioned whether I was applying those skills in the places where they could make the greatest positive impact. That was ultimately what led me to make the difficult decision to sell my shares and leave behind the safety net of the company I had loved and dedicated 17 years of my life to since graduating from university.
It marked the beginning of an entirely new chapter; one where I had to adapt quickly, build new connections, identify opportunities independently, and find people who believed in and supported my vision. And this new flexibility gave me something equally valuable: more time with my children, more ability to take care of my own wellbeing, and the opportunity to volunteer for causes that genuinely mattered to me. I began creating and contributing to projects and events focused on issues I feel deeply passionate about, including soil desertification, human wellbeing, and the environmental crises affecting the Aral Sea in Central Asia and increasingly the Caspian Sea. For the first time in many years, I felt that my professional skills, personal values, and sense of purpose were beginning to align.
The reaction from people around me was very mixed, mainly because I had changed so much as a person. Initially, there was confusion within my family. Some thought I was “no longer fun” or impossible to invite out socially anymore. But what people did not understand was that I had not become less joyful. Quite the opposite. Even now, in my mid-forties, I can dance all night, fully present and full of energy, without needing a single drop of alcohol. Over time, everyone adjusted and what once seemed unusual simply became normal.
I am currently building a new business across several industries while managing international projects around the world. Alongside work and family life, I continue dedicating time to writing, meditation, yoga and personal growth. The pace of my life is still intense, but the difference now is that I approach it with far greater awareness and balance than I ever did before. Even at the end of a full day, I still have the energy to spend quality time with my children or go for a run. Instead of constantly feeling depleted, I feel energised.
One of the greatest gifts to return to my life has been deep, restful sleep. For years, I lay awake with a racing mind, exhausted but unable to switch off. To now place my head on the pillow and drift into uninterrupted sleep until morning still feels miraculous.
The past five years have taught me one profound lesson: when life presents you with a challenge, meet it with gratitude. What feels like a breakdown may, in truth, be the greatest opportunity to evolve. I never imagined I would say this, but I am deeply grateful for everything that unfolded during those years. What once felt like devastation became transformation. It reshaped me into a version of myself I could hardly have imagined - stronger, clearer, more alive and more aligned than ever before.
