For over a month, I’ve been avoiding writing this—my summary of the first year in New York—waiting for the perfect moment to share it. I’ve begun it at least four times. I open the document, face that year head-on, but each time I close it again, as if doing so

Less than twenty years ago—though it feels much longer—being Hungarian would spark a glow around the table. People would lean in instead of falling silent, with Budapest embodying beauty, brilliance, and long golden evenings by the Danube. Someone would always smile and mention the Parliament illuminated at night, the charm

A Substack friend tagged me in a note asking me to share my self-care and wellness routine, and I started to type it in a note, but then I thought, no, that just won’t be enough… As a clinical health psychologist and lifestyle medicine practitioner, I’ve always valued a healthy

This one is for my Hungarian friends and readers who face the most important elections of our history. I want to encourage them to make their voices heard. I could say so many things—painfully too many—but as I have worked as a clinical health psychologist for 16 years, exactly as

I’m nowhere near where you stand, I could never reach that land. Cold between two stars I roam, with no clear path, no steady home, and still I go, though it takes its toll, each step a trade from my fading soul.

My March in New York mainly focused on science. Early in the month, I delivered a talk at the Endometriosis Foundation of America Medical Conference in Times Square, discussing why pain frequently continues even after a “successful” endometriosis surgery, and exploring potential solutions from both the patient’s and the physician’s

The futures of science in the era of AI I’m writing this as I prepare for my panel discussion in a few hours at the recent Neumann Series conference, organized by Tamás Novák at Columbia University’s historic Pupin Hall in New York. We gathered around a Neumann’s compelling question that: Can we survive

To Hungary, from New York Today is Hungary’s National Day — March 15 — commemorating the 1848 uprising when young writers, poets, and students took to the streets, sparking a revolution for freedom, dignity, language, bravery, and the belief that a nation has the right to determine its own future.

Become dangerously overeducated. Gather questions and keep asking beyond the first answer. Learn history to identify patterns rather than panic. Understand neuroscience to realize how quickly your brain defaults to shortcuts. Explore psychology to become aware of your own blind spots. Familiarize yourself with statistics so graphs don’t mesmerize you.

I stayed up until 5 AM writing the first part of this article, the words still pulsing as I finally closed the laptop, convinced the night had taken enough from us — and then Eliott started shaking. Initially, only a flicker in his breath and a tightening in his body—his eyes too

The mornings began before I fully understood what they were doing to me. I couldn’t remember why I agreed to this experiment; I kept reminding myself, ‘remember your why, remember your why.’ But it wasn’t like in an American movie where you recite that into the mirror. We didn’t have

So today I got a message on Substack that went something like this:I Hey, I’m trying to piece together from your Notes what’s actually going on with you. What’s happening in your life? What’s the deal? Are you single or in a relationship? Are you being funny or are you

I recently saw a note on Substack that, at first glance, I was insanely drawn to, almost magnetized by it, because unfortunately I still deeply resonate with those love-bombing, overwhelmingly intense, all-consuming emotions that sweep you off your feet and make everything feel electric and fated and larger than life

The most expensive dust I own Are the ashes of my dreams and hopes. They are smoke and dust on a lonely road, The remains of who I once was. The wind goes wild, a wicked game, It blinds my eyes with fear and shame. My vision blurs, the sky

I want something where we can’t bear a single day without each other, where being apart physically hurts. Where you’d give anything just for my touch, where when we are together the rest of the world fades away. Where desire pulls you toward me instinctively, and where closeness feels magnetic,

Today, I want to discuss how strongly I feel suspicious of those who fear being alone. Because when you’re alone, the world finally lowers its volume around you, the rush ends, and in that quiet, you can finally hear your own voice. You’re forced to sit with your thoughts. I

Eliott is three years old today, and as we celebrate, it makes me wonder: in those three years, he has lived more life than many humans manage in decades. He lived in three countries across two continents, and with paws on foreign asphalt and noses to unfamiliar winds, he also

Previously, I wrote an article about my vision that keeps me awake at night—creating a better, more human healthcare system where both patients and doctors feel valued and important.  I posted a note with a quote from it, and I received this comment:  Comments like this still sadden me for a moment,

The other day, I found myself in an interesting conversation when someone asked whether I was ashamed to be Hungarian. I believe they were referring to the political situation, specifically that there hasn’t been true democracy in my country for a long time — only in name. Our prime minister

Before we ever learn to speak, before we learn how to name home, safety, future, or love, and before language comes to organize experience into sentences and explanations, there is already something inside us that knows how to speak. It’s like my writing — somatic — it communicates through the body