Chloé Avelle

I am not a character.
Not a projection screen.
Not someone who dresses up in titles or loses herself in roles.

I am Chloé Avelle.
A name that promises nothing—
but perhaps opens something in you
that has long been closed.

I am not the woman you dream of.
I am the one who shows you what you dream of when no one is looking.

What moves me is not a game.
It is a calling.
A quiet, constant calling for depth,
for truthfulness, for a place
where we stop doing – and start being.

It took me many years to find my own space.
One where I don't have to explain or please.
One where I don't have to appear strong, but can be strong—
with dignity, with clarity, with a gaze that doesn't look away.

In my work, I don't touch with my hands.
I touch with my presence. With my gaze. With words
that don't have to be shouted to be heard.

I don't create processes.
I create spaces.
Space for the unspeakable.
Space for what you may never have wanted to show –
and yet must show
if you want to recognize yourself.

I am not here to fulfill wishes.
I am here to shift boundaries.
Not with power, but with awareness.

Those who enter my space bring their own stories with them.
Some come to be guided.
Others to let themselves go.
Still others because they no longer know who they are—
but feel that they could find out here.

I don't work for everyone.
I don't affect everyone.
And I don't offer myself to everyone.

But for those who listen with their eyes closed,
who sense behind the surface
that there is something there—a whisper, a shadow, a light—
I am there for them.

Not as an answer.
But as a space where questions can finally breathe.

I don't believe in service.
I believe in presence.

What happens in my rooms arises in the moment—
not from lists, not from desires, not from procedures.

I don't work physically—and yet much is touched.
I don't give you what you want—
but what you need, if you dare to feel yourself.

I maintain boundaries.
I am not touchable.
Not out of distance –
but out of respect for the depth you bring with you.

My spaces are not made for having something.
They are made for being something.
And sometimes, in the quietest second, something begins right there
that cannot be undone:
truthfulness.

Not every space is for everyone.
And I am not made for everyone either.

I don't work with expectations.
I work with people.
With souls who can't say exactly what they are looking for –
but feel that there must be more than surface and role.

People come to me who
– long for clarity, not control
– who seek depth but don't know how to ask for it
– who want to let go without getting lost
– who are ready to show themselves – raw, quiet, honest
– who want to be guided without being led

I meet people who don't fit into boxes.
And I create spaces that don't need labels.

Perhaps you carry within you a longing you have never expressed.
Perhaps you have learned to function—
but forgotten what it feels like to simply be.

If you are ready to slow down—
not out of weakness, but out of strength—
then you will not need me.
But you will recognize me.

"Nothing is as strong as genuine tenderness.
And nothing is as tender as true strength."
— Saint-Exupéry