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How I Manifested My Dream Birthday — and a New Love

The author found more than a relaxing vacation at a famous fitness and spa retreat in Mexico


a photo and graphic collage shows cutout images of angels staring at a heart with the word LOVE in the center, spread over two decks.
Author Melina Bellows’ newest piece of collage art represents the latest stage of her manifesting journey.
Melina Bellows

Rancho La Puerta, a top-rated destination spa in Tecate, Mexico, had long topped my bucket list. Friends raved about its locally sourced, sustainable food, nonstop yoga classes, and overall bougie but laid-back vibe, and declared it was my kind of place. Turning 60 this year, I was determined to find a way to get there. In January I reached out, hoping to lead a happiness workshop based on my books as a way to invite myself. I’d done similar swaps at two other destination spas.

Crickets.

After several follow-ups went unanswered, I sighed and moved on. It wasn’t meant to be. But the universe had a better plan — one that included a man. You could say I put the “man” in manifestation. Not only did I celebrate my milestone birthday at my dream destination, but even more incredibly, my hot new boyfriend invited me — before we’d even met in person.

How did this all come to be?

Since October, I’ve been on a quest to live my best life — leaning into joy, creativity and authenticity as a newly minted empty nester. Working with self-love coach Suzanne Eder and interviewing Deepak Chopra prompted me to adopt new habits: positive self-talk, visualization and feeling, instead of overthinking. These techniques align with research in positive psychology which shows that visualization boosts optimism and motivation, two core drivers of well-being.​

In fact, research has found that multisensory imagery can be up to five times more effective than goal-setting alone — something I experienced firsthand during a pre-keynote panic attack.​

While “manifestation” doesn’t yet have hard scientific consensus, studies suggest that when combined with action — like prioritizing self-care, staying open to possibility and following through — it can lead to real transformation.​

One twist I didn’t see coming on the path to living my best life: ending a three-year relationship. A friend warned me that plunging back into the dating pool at our age would be tough. I chose not to believe her. I downloaded Bumble. The D.C. dating options were limited, but while helping my mom and sister with medical appointments in New York, my feed offered up David: 64, tech investor, Harvard MBA, world traveler.​

We both swiped right.​

Texting turned into nightly FaceTime calls. On one, I jokingly called him my “New York boyfriend,” brazenly claiming him despite the fact that we’d never been in the same room. On another, he casually mentioned Rancho La Puerta — he’d been five times. We mused about the possibility of going together, even though it seemed like a pipe dream.​

A photo shows Mexico's Rancho La Puerta wellness resort and spa
At Mexico's Rancho La Puerta wellness resort and spa, Bellows made several meaningful connections.
Getty Images

Our first official date was April 1. He came to D.C. to celebrate his brother’s birthday. I was in the sweaty frenzy of moving out of my house. What was supposed to be dinner turned into six days. While David took conference calls from my daughter’s boxed-up bedroom, I donated furniture to Afghan relief and packed seven bedrooms of memories. Each night, he booked a restaurant, giving me a reason to wash my hair, swipe on lipstick and feel like a woman again, not just a mom in moving-day sweatpants.​

Not everyone was charmed by our fast-track connection, though.​

“Mom, he’s probably a serial killer,” my son warned from college.​

A girlfriend countered: “He wants to take you to Rancho La Puerta? Let him. Like Mel Robbins says — just let them.”​

And so two months later, we were on a plane.​​

Off to Mexico

​By the time we landed in Tecate, I was running on fumes. My back ached. I was caught between FOMO and fatigue. I wanted to hike, take yoga, soak in lectures on brain health — but all I could do was lie by the pool and stare at the mountains.​​

At dinner, I met Ben Coolik, a certified Watsu and WaterDance practitioner and Fluid Presence provider. He described his treatment — a warm-water therapy blending breathwork, stretching and the possibility of gentle submersion — as a way to reset the nervous system. Research backs this up: It is thought that by simulating the safety of the womb, these aquatic therapies help deactivate the body’s stress response and promote a parasympathetic state, allowing for deep emotional and physical release.​

Sold.​

The next morning, we met at Rancho’s 95.5-degree, ozone-infused South Pool. Ben listened as I shared that I was a creative between career chapters, helping my college-age kids launch, riding the wave of a new relationship and searching for my next act. “Being an artist,” he said, “isn’t about what you make. It’s how you live.”​

That wisdom landed. I followed him into the pool.​

A photo shows Ben Coolik, a certified Watsu and WaterDance practitioner and Fluid Presence provider, working with a client in a Rancho La Puerta swimming pool.
Ben Coolik, right, a certified Watsu and WaterDance practitioner and Fluid Presence provider, works with a client at Rancho La Puerta.
Courtesy Scott Draper

With floats wrapped around my thighs and calves, and a pink clip sealing my nose, Ben cradled my head in his arm and gently began moving me through the water, gliding, turning, submerging. After a brief panic (“Is this my White Lotus ending?”) I learned to trust that Ben was aligning with my breath, and I dropped into my body. I noticed birdsong between plunges, a snatch of palm tree fluttering overhead, the pressure of his arm beneath my ear.​

Slowly, I surrendered.​

At one point, he spun me gently by the hair. I laughed. A vision of my mother, young and radiant, flickered in my mind — dream, memory, blessing? It didn’t matter. Love surged through me.​​

As Ben guided me to the edge of the pool, I blinked back tears. I felt calm, clear, reconnected. I had arrived.​​From that moment on, I was present — and Rancho is designed for presence. Spread across 4,000 acres, this family-owned retreat is an eco-village of casitas, studios, gardens and trails.​​Towering pink oleander trees, hollyhocks seven feet tall and unapologetically bold, stand like sentinels along the paths. Fragrant lavender spills over garden beds humming with bees and serenity. And everywhere, rosemary grows wild and wise, its piney, resinous scent grounding guests with every step.​​With limited Wi-Fi and a no-phones policy in public spaces, guests actually talk. Smile. Engage.​​“Love, love, love!” a woman called out, eyeing my red swimsuit and striped palazzo pants as we passed each other on the way to the pool. Her husband’s hat read, “Live Happy.”​

It’s that kind of place.​

Strangers become friends on hikes and in the communal dining room, where a pescatarian, ovo-lacto diet is served. Most guests we met said they had been before.​

Our casita had twin queen beds with carved headboards, a fireplace and a tiled bathroom in bright Mexican colors. David stuck to his workout schedule while I drifted from yin yoga to labyrinth meditations to lectures titled things like “Change Your Mind, Change Your Life.”​​

But we shared the 6:15 a.m. hikes.​

One morning, climbing the 3,885-foot Mt. Kuchumaa that towers over Rancho La Puerta, I had a book idea: Wild Horses: An Anthology of Losing Virginity . Not five minutes later, two wild horses appeared to graze along the trail.​

“Coincidence,” David said.​

“Synchronicity,” I said, channeling Deepak.​

​Later, I learned that the trail was a sacred site for indigenous Kumeyaay rites of passage. No wonder I channeled that coming-of-age anthology.​

​Floating into a new perspective

​Another morning, David and I revisited my desire to lead a workshop at Rancho as we huffed our way up the hill. Just ahead, I spotted Emily Boorstein, the life coach who oversees Inner Fitness, walking by herself. We fell into step. I shared my idea to present a keynote on fun as a spiritual and practical path. She loved it and shared insider advice on how to pitch the activities director.​

​David was skeptical that I had “manifested Emily,” but agreed to join me for the evening’s sound bath.​

Led by San Diego–based yoga teacher Jeny Dawson, we floated on rafts under blankets while she played crystal bowls, chimes and rain drums. Her voice pulsed through my bones, or rather my nervous system. Research shows sound healing can lower blood pressure, relax brain waves and release endogenous opioids — your body’s own painkillers. Maybe this was what Betsy Granville was trying to download to me during my session with her.​

​Even David felt calmer. By the end, our two rafts — which had been lazily bobbing in opposite corners of the pool, among a dozen blissed-out guests — had somehow, impossibly, drifted together. No one had touched them. No current had steered them. Yet there we were, shoulder to shoulder, gently bumping like boats in love.​

A photo shows story author Melina Bellows and her new love interest, David, 64, enjoying a hike at Rancho La Puerta.
Bellows and her new love interest, David, 64, enjoyed daily 6:15 a.m. hikes during their time at Rancho La Puerta.
Courtesy Melina Bellows

“They did that,” he said, eyeing the facilitators with mock suspicion.​

I smiled. I saw a wink from the universe.​

​Encouraged by David and Emily, I requested a meeting with the elusive Rancho activities director. At our 10-minute sit-down the following afternoon, she said yes almost instantly — my talk was a perfect fit.​

Later, floating in the pool, I had another vision: What if I became a life coach?​

As I stepped out of the water, my phone pinged with a text from my friend Rebecca: “How did the meeting go?”​

I sent a thumbs-up emoji.​

She replied: “You should be a life coach teaching manifestation.”​

​And just like that, I knew.​

​The next chapter had already begun.​

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