NDE: Near-Death Experience
The First Time I Spoke About It
Not long ago, I found myself unexpectedly sharing something I had never spoken aloud before. I was catching up with a friend when, almost without planning it, our conversation drifted into the topic of death and not long after, we were both speaking openly about our near-death experiences.
To my surprise, it was the first time I had ever described what I saw or felt during those moments. Even more surprising was how deeply understood I felt while doing so. As it turns out, he had gone through something similar. Maybe that’s why the conversation felt so natural, so safe, like we were speaking in a language that I didn’t know we could speak not even with others.
I hadn’t realized until then how carefully I had kept those memories tucked away. Somehow, this one had been labeled: Do not share or people will think you’re crazy. I mean, it’s one thing to say you’re a medium. Add two near-death experiences on top of that, and… well, even I’ve questioned my own sanity at times.
But he said to me, “You know there’s a whole field of study about this, right?”
That stayed with me. So, in this article, I share my experience and some of the things I learn from it and studying the topic.
What I Learned About NDEs
After that conversation, I began reading more about near-death experiences (NDEs). I was struck by how many stories mirrored parts of mine and how many ways there are to experience this. Some of the most common patterns include:
Out-of-body sensations: feeling detached from the physical body, often watching it from above.
A tunnel or pull into darkness: not necessarily frightening, but often magnetic and strange.
The presence of light: sometimes perceived as divine, other times simply peaceful.
A life review: a panoramic reliving of key memories or emotions.
A profound sense of peace: a state beyond comprehension, beyond fear.
My First NDE
For me, it wasn’t a voice from the light calling me in. In that hospital bed, I was afraid but only because of the pain. When the pain faded, the fear went with it. What replaced it was peace, surrender, and a sense that I wasn’t holding onto anything anymore.
That first NDE sent me into a long inner journey, one that eventually led to what some might call a Dark Night of the Soul. I met people and circumstances that seemed orchestrated to push me deeper into myself. And in that descent, I met parts of me I had long disowned.
It wasn’t graceful. It wasn’t poetic. But slowly, piece by piece, something more grounded and real began to emerge. Even in the darkest, most violent moments of that chapter, something in me knew: There is a part of my soul that cannot be touched. A core of peace that cannot be stolen or corrupted.
Every time I touched that feeling, it was like a light, an old friend, returning to remind me of the message I received in that hospital bed. Oddly, being close to death felt far less intense than the pain I experienced staying alive through that period.
My Second NDE
My second near-death experience came at the end of that storm, when my body had taken more than it could bear. This one came fast. No warning, no pain. Just a blackout. My body collapsed, and I detached completely from form.
The tunnel I experienced wasn’t scary. It was dark, and I remember thinking: Maybe this is what it feels like to be in space, with no gravity. There was no heavenly voice or angelic figure waiting for me but there was a light. This light in this space vibrated a deep knowing that felt magnetic. A portal. familiar, grounding sensation. I wasn’t alone, but there were no figures there either. All my life I had heard people speak of death with fear, but in that moment, I realized the fears I had absorbed belonged more to this world than to what comes after.
I was ready to go, no retrospective into life, no looking back, I was serene and happy being taken by this pull. It felt more like gravity, pulling me, not toward death, but into a deeper kind of existence. I was ready. I didn’t look back. I wasn’t afraid. What I felt then was unlike anything I’ve known: I became molecules. I dissolved into a kind of density and quiet that I have no words for. But once again, there was no fear.
The next thing I remember, I was sucked back into my body like a vacuum cleaner pulling me into form.
What followed wasn’t confusion or grief. It was clarity. Since then, I’ve felt a deeper determination to live, not out of fear of dying, but because I no longer carry the weight of that fear.
Both of my near-death experiences changed me, but not in the way I expected. Life has taken surprising and joyful turns, and looking back now, it makes perfect sense. It simply wasn’t my time. And I’m grateful I’ve had the opportunity to keep living.
I don’t romanticize what happened. Nor do I wish for it again. But I carry it with me now. Not as a trauma, but as a compass.
And if you’re reading this wondering what’s real, or whether your own experience counts, I want you to know: You’re not crazy. You’re not alone. And maybe, just maybe, your remembering is the beginning of something too.
With love,
Sofia