I was born and raised in Corsica where I studied until I obtained my baccalaureate. At the end of secondary school, I entered the preparatory class for major business schools in Lyon. It was the moment of great questioning. I didn't like studying and I couldn't imagine directing my life in this purely commercial direction. The contact with people was the positive point but something was missing. I wanted to bring more to people; I had this feeling forever, and while looking it went back to my childhood.

 

Childhood ​

 

From a very young age, I remember inventing poultices to treat my little sister, looking for remedies in nature while playing doctor. A meeting in Provence particularly marked my life. At the checkout of a small village convenience store I complained to my mother about having a stomach ache. The lady in front of us turned around and told me to massage my stomach going around my navel. I was around ten years old, maybe even younger. Her words caught my attention. As soon as I got home I tried to do what she said, and in a few minutes my stomach no longer hurt. I found it incredible and intriguing at the same time. I think at that moment a seed germinated in my head without me really knowing it. The years passed, when I was in college I was interested in the classical medical field. I was trying to understand drugs, how they work, the names of the molecules. I knew by heart the dosage of several molecules and their action. At that time I unfortunately took a lot of medication due to my painful cycles among other things.

In high school, disappointed with the medical world, in particular because of the failures to relieve my cycle pain, my chronic stomach ache, my back pain, my wrist pain... I no longer thought about classical medicine and enrolled in the general economic and social section. With good results in high school, the preparatory class opened up to me and I headed into the commercial field without thinking too much.

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Higher education ​ 

 

So here I am in Lyon in the first year of preparatory class. The quarter has barely started, and I'm already thinking about changing paths, or even fields... The following year, not daring to take the plunge, I branched off into another commercial path which pleased me just as little. At the same time, I discovered the existence of osteopathy and became passionate about this approach that was completely new to me and which made much more sense in my head than traditional medicine. The second year in the business completed, with the conviction that it was the last, I embarked on osteopathy studies the following year, against the advice of my parents and without their support. The year is going well, I like it but don't feel completely at home. Something is wrong but I don't know how to describe this feeling, nor do I try to understand it. I like learning anatomy, biology, manipulations... but there is a blockage.

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The hard blow ​

 

At the end of the first year in osteopathy school, my results were very good in all subjects, except for one where the teacher took a dislike to me from the start. A grudge against the Corsicans or personal I will never know. In any case, she shows me little consideration and puts me at risk during each practical exam. The last test does not pass. The other examiner tells her in front of me that she is exaggerating and asks me very complicated 3rd or 4th year things, to which I answer, but nothing helps. I leave the exam confident, having answered each question correctly, certain of having validated. The results fell in July, a 9 which marked a repeat, which I categorically refused, revolting against this injustice. All my other scores are around 18, nothing justifies it. I decided to stop and enroll in biology school, my parents not swallowing their “We told you so. » I feel devastated, the blow is hard to take. I thought I had found my way.

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The grain of madness ​ 

 

Registered in biology school out of spite for the start of the 2010 school year, the summer passes, I no longer think about studies; I have enough to take care of next year, that’s enough for me. However, the month of September arrives, I return to Lyon, the start of the school year is in a week but my stomach is knotted at the idea of ​​joining a path that does not interest me. Alone in my student room, Google is my only window on the world, I try my luck and enter: “alternative medicine manipulations” in the search engine. The word “etiopathy” then appears. This word is simply unknown to me. I click on the link and read the presentation of this specialty. As the words go by, my heart races, everything makes sense, The meaning I wanted to give to my life, what I wanted to accomplish by helping people in a natural, lasting, non-harmful way, by seeking the cause of pathologies and treating them. Not just the masked or anesthetized symptom, but the cause found and removed. Where to train? There are only 4 schools in France and one is in Lyon, where I am! Neither one nor two, I download the file, print it and post it the same day.

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A few days later I was called for an interview. Everything is going wonderfully, the director is looking above all for caregivers rather than diplomas. No competition here, kindness and a big family to accomplish this task, not the easiest: caring. The next day he calls me to tell me that I am admitted; Back to school takes place in a week, I accept. I have known about etiopathy for about 3 days, I had absolutely never heard of it before (even though it was created in the 60s), the studies last 6 years and last but not least, the cost of one year is €6,000. However, everything seems simple and fluid to me, I go for it. ​ Here I am, off for 6 long years of intense study, with a single slogan in mind: “It’s either make or break”. I swear to myself not to accept any repetition, even if it occurs in the final year. This decision is all the more radical as I will finance my studies alone, by working, because I decide not to inform my parents of this change of path...

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Back to school ​

 

Here we are all in 1st year, introducing ourselves to the entire class and faculty. The most asked question is obviously “How did you learn about the etiopathy and what made you decide to undertake these studies?” ". For the other students, several answers come up. There are those who have been treated by an etiopath, forever or for something in particular that no one else was treating, those who have an etiopath family member or a friend, those who discovered it during student fairs. All have already been manipulated at least once and above all they knew the etiopathy before registering. Obviously my response that day was a lie made up on the spot, pretty much sticking to the story of others. At the time I was not ready to admit that I had discovered the etiopathy a week before and had embarked on such long and expensive studies without further reflection. Basically “I saw the light, I entered”. And yet that’s what I did, as if attracted by a magnet pointing in my direction, which suddenly exerted its force without any obstacle in its path.

Alone, on my way ​ Studies go by, the workload is heavy. Between revisions, internships and my student job, the weeks are busy. I talk about biology, physics, physiology, pathology with my parents and my family, subjects that I am supposed to study at the faculty of biology and that I also study in etiopathy. Lying is easier but the pressure still becomes stronger and stronger over the years, with a feeling of having no other support than myself. I don't like lying, but it's vital so that I can continue my studies. I know full well that my family would not have supported me, either morally or financially, and that the psychological impact would have been even more negative. The pros and cons were weighed, I did not regret my choice of silence and solitude.

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The anecdotes ​ 

 

The thing that made the game a little complicated while also being the biggest help I could have: I lived with my grandparents. There were times when I invited my friends to eat and they had to explain why they had chosen the biology course... There were books that I put sliced ​​towards the back of the library so as not to read the word “etiopathy” there. There were manipulations carried out on the floor or on the bed due to the lack of being able to store a training table in the accommodation, without risking arousing suspicion. There came a time when I really thought I was going to have to reveal everything. I went on an internship for one day in a practice in Bourg en Bresse, an hour's drive from home. I had warned my grandmother that I would be coming back late, because I was doing an internship at the Bourg en Bresse hospital (why there and only one day, well, she didn't really want to know). Except that late meant 8 p.m. for her instead of 7 p.m., but the internship itself ended after 8 p.m. that day. I quickly sent him a text message to tell him I was on my way but without calling him. When I arrived home, my grandmother was waiting for me. “I got worried,” she told me, “and when you didn’t answer the phone, I called the hospital.”

My heart almost stopped when I heard these words and I immediately imagined the discussion that would follow. Worried about her reaction, I asked her innocently: “Okay grandma… and what did they tell you at the hospital? ". I almost burst out laughing when she replied “that the biology interns had finished late but they didn’t have the names to know if I had left or not”. Heaven or something was with me that night. And everything remained unchanged.

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The diploma ​ 

 

The day came when I passed my last exam, almost officially signing the validation of my diploma. And the day also came to announce to my parents that the diploma I was obtaining was not the one they expected. We were at the table, I proudly announced that I had completed my 5th year, my happy father immediately replied that I could apply to work in the judicial police. Except that I had added that I was going to open my etiopathy practice, information that his brain had automatically rejected. I repeated, emphasizing the word “etiopathy”, but his brain was still blocked. It took him a moment to hear it, then he finally looked up from the table and asked me, “What are you saying?” ". I replied again that I was going to open my etiopathy practice then invited him to watch a video on the profession, one that I found particularly well done and quite clear. He looked at her but I felt like nothing connected. And in fact it took him several months to integrate the news and digest it. Certainly overcome by a feeling of betrayal, then by anger, he remained silent at first and then became aggressive and pessimistic about my choice. It was only over the years that he asked me to treat him, then took my opinion on certain medical subjects.

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Office ​ 

 

2016, my office opens its doors and I receive my first official patients. I am the first and only etiopath in Corsica, it is a huge honor for me. The reasoning is good, we have solid background, the results are not long in coming and little by little word of mouth is taking effect. I see patients coming from all over Corsica, from Cape Town to Porto-Vecchio, Corte, Calvi, Ile Rousse and even Ajaccio. To get better, people don't count the kilometers. I also realize how badly everyone is doing, living with ailments that are rarely treated or even relieved. The first years passed quietly, however my sense of accomplishment was undermined by certain treatment failures. The etiopathy works, but something is missing.

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The pain ​

 

2020, I gave birth to my second son and in the months that followed my left arm became almost helpless. Severe pain along my arm, with nervous sensations ranging from spider webs to running water, tingling, numbness... I do a battery of tests but everything is "normal" on the images. However, I feel that no, nothing is going well and I suffer day and night from a dead arm that I must leave to rest to limit the pain. The end of maternity leave arrives and the return to work. In the office it's even worse, I really can't use my arm anymore, but I can't stop working either. I then start using only my right arm and simply place my dead hand on the patient while the other works. Without me realizing it, my left hand becomes a hand for listening to the body, and little by little the sensory receptors amplify and begin to pick up things that I had never felt until then. Intrigued by these discoveries, I let myself be guided by my sensations; pain ultimately became an ultra-precise sensor.

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Sensitive analysis ​ 

 

Day by day the touch becomes more refined and above all I manage to decode each nerve flow, each wave of blood propelled through the vessels. Patients are surprised when I tell them before they tell me that the blockage is no longer there and that everything is recirculating. “I was going to tell you, but do you feel it? » they respond, stunned. And indeed, I now feel everything as if I were myself inside the vessels, the nerves, the joints, the fascia... My hand has become a sort of multi-systemic scanner without radioactivity. My practice is undergoing a change, the caterpillar is becoming a butterfly. This new tool is a real experiment, I adapt it and use it for multiple cases including to resolve, 2 years later, the problem of my dead and painful arm. Ultimately, this is how long it took to perfectly develop this new approach. Discover it, tame it, refine it, reproduce it. The range of pathologies that I can treat almost doubles and the results are even faster and more lasting. This is what I end up calling the “rise to power”.

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The questioning ​ 

 

Intrigued by this unexpected development, I questioned colleagues to find out if their practice had also changed or if they knew therapists working in the same way as me. Negative responses, they have no idea what I'm talking about and to their knowledge no etiopath works like that. I then begin to explain to them and put them on the path to processing and manipulating my “creation”. This helps them each time to better care for their own patients. Same with a trainee that I train and coach with my practice, thus accelerating her rise to power. I ended up agreeing to give a single course to the 6th year of the faculty of etiopathy in Lyon. The students are delighted, I see in their eyes that what I bring to them is the missing piece of the puzzle, the extra thing that will make their practice take off or not, that they will treat more pathologies. I then understand that this “gift” that I hold, this revolutionary practice in my eyes, is a real opportunity. If all caregivers felt this way, how many people on this earth would be freed from their illnesses? Enormously.

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Training ​ 

 

I decided to become a trainer and over several months I put in place a teaching protocol, which reproduced my therapeutic path over these 2 years, in an accelerated version. Every time my own body suffers or becomes ill, I go around to therapists hoping for a solution and find that I don't have one. I always end up treating myself alone. This point reassures me even more in the idea that it is necessary to transmit, that my knowledge is not lost. Other people must develop this faculty of perception and care and why not transmit them in turn. I am convinced that I have not invented anything but that I have rediscovered ancient, forgotten or perhaps even hidden knowledge. Training is now obvious but also a mission.

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