Can A Surf Retreat Help You Find Yourself?

Surfing was never something I imagined my life would revolve around. I didn’t grow up near the sea, and I certainly never pictured myself chasing waves across the world. But life has a way of nudging us toward what we need — even when we don’t know it yet.

Five years ago, I was heartbreakingly lost. Not just because a relationship had ended, but because somewhere within it, I’d lost myself.

I’d left London for love, believing I was moving toward something secure and lasting. When it ended, I came back to the city that had always felt like home — to my friends, my favourite coffee spot, the streets I could walk blindfolded. But even surrounded by everything familiar, I felt hollow.

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt genuine joy or peace. I remember thinking, “is this who I am now? A woman who feels disconnected from herself?”

I thought I was depressed. I tried everything to feel better — new routines, new projects, even medication — but nothing worked. The antidepressants didn’t help because what I was experiencing wasn’t a chemical imbalance. It was a disconnection. Somewhere deep down, I knew the only person who could bring me back was me.

At the time, I was freelancing, which meant I could work from anywhere. London, though safe, suddenly felt too loud for the quiet ache I was carrying. I started swimming lengths every morning at the local pool — lap after lap, as if I could cleanse the heaviness one stroke at a time.

Then, one day, I decided to leave. Not to escape, but to listen — to give myself the space to sit with everything I’d been avoiding. I knew it would hurt. I knew I’d probably cry a thousand rivers. But I also knew something inside me was ready to shift.

Drawn to water, I booked a solo trip to a beginner’s surf retreat in Portugal. That trip changed everything.

The ocean doesn’t let you hide. It mirrors your emotions right back — the frustration, the fear, the exhaustion — but also the moments of peace you thought you’d forgotten how to feel. Learning to surf cracked me open. It forced me to be present, patient, humble. It made me scream underwater a few times (something I still do now when I’m out surfing). And somehow, within that chaos and saltwater and surrender, I found myself again.

When I came home, everything revolved around the sea. Surfing became more than a sport — it became a way of being. I started travelling solo, chasing waves and collecting pieces of myself along the way.

I shared my journey online — honestly. Not the glossy, curated version, but the real stuff: the tears, the breakthroughs, the wobbly first waves. And the response floored me. Women from all over the world began to reach out saying, “I feel exactly like this too”.

That’s when I realised it wasn’t just me who needed this. So many of us are quietly searching for reconnection — to ourselves, to each other, to something that makes us feel alive again.

And that’s how Marnie Rays Surf & Wellness Retreat was born. It grew from heartbreak, but it’s now my greatest joy — a space for women to show up exactly as they are. Some come to rest, some to grow, some to find courage, and some just to breathe again. Through surfing, shared meals, laughter and quiet moments by the sea, they find what I once went searching for: themselves.

Surfing might not have been part of my plan, but it gave me back my peace, my joy, and my purpose. Now, I get to watch other women find theirs too.