My Story
A little over a decade ago, I considered myself to be a somewhat radical health-nut. I had gone from being a couch potato who had grown up in a family of chronic dieters into a rigorous Irongirl triathlete and was ridiculously passionate about saving my kids from GMOs and sugar. I had created a thriving business that centered around empowering women through creativity, and next on my agenda was going back to school to become a health coach.
But then, bing bang boom... everything changed. Severe muscle cramping and weakness and deep fatigue led to a plethora of tests, including brain scans, electromyographies, muscle biopsies, and what felt like enough blood draws to fill a swimming pool. With no concrete diagnosis other than a vague and mysterious degeneration of my muscle tissue, specialists warned me that my condition would worsen over time, that I would likely end up in a wheelchair, and that I might even go blind. “You’ll just have to learn to live with this,” they would say nonchalantly just before suggesting that I try an antidepressant.
I had almost given up hope when I found an integrative practitioner who offered to help me discover how to fully inhabit my life, even if the worst-case scenario were to happen. When she eventually diagnosed me with Lyme Disease, the tumultuous years-long journey toward healing began. But it wasn’t just about ridding myself of the nasty little boogers invading my cells. It was as much if not more about making peace with my body and learning how to love it again in its current form, deeply listening to what nourished me, letting go of residual grief, and embracing moxie I didn’t know I had. It was as much if not more about learning how to take back my own authority over my body after I had desperately given my power away to a broken medical system. And it was as much if not more about greeting my life with grace and gratitude, moment by moment— savoring each nourishing bite of food, each sunrise, each deep belly breath, each sip of clean water, each stroke of paint and written word, each tender hug given to me by one of my children.
I have come to accept that my own journey is ongoing and constantly evolving, as it is for all of us, and that health is not simply the absence of disease-- it's a dance between the always-changing ingredients of our lives... the work we do and how we show up in the world, the manner in which we nourish our spirits and our connection to nature, the sense of belonging we receive in relationships and community, the dreams we carry with us, the ways we express ourselves through creativity, the paths we take toward joy and vulnerability, and how we feed our bodies both on and off the plate.
