The Lost Face of My Soul

Some wounds don't heal — they simply fall silent.

From the age of thirteen to forty-six, Yaşar İşler carried a life he rarely spoke of: apprenticeship far from home, military service, the slow building of a trade and a name in İzmir, and the quiet, private battle every person eventually has with themselves. The Lost Face of My Soul is his reckoning with that silence.

This is not a story told in dramatic turns. It is a confrontation — with childhood wounds that never fully close, with the people who appeared at the right moment and changed everything, with grief, patience, and the long work of learning to carry a past without letting it define the future. Written with unguarded honesty, it moves between hardship and tenderness, between the years of simply enduring and the moment the author chose, for the first time, to face himself.

For anyone who has ever postponed their own healing, who has smiled while carrying something heavier underneath, this memoir is a reminder: acceptance brings a peace that resistance never can. Not every wound heals. But every person can learn to walk with theirs — and, eventually, to breathe easily again.