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Tea meditation hashimoto's autoimmune disorder relapse

It was more than just fatigue

I started to slowly gain weight. I haven’t been able to lose it.
My hair started falling out. I didn’t know why.
My thoughts started to feel jumbled. It became harder to concentrate.
I started to feel chronically fatigued. Some days were difficult to walk.

I started feeling down. I told myself I’ve been through a lot lately. This is normal.  This is completely normal.

I convinced myself I was just stressed. I needed more sleep.  

I didn’t just need more sleep. I am sick again. I am having a Hashimoto's autoimmune disorder relapse.

Hashimoto's autoimmune disorder Relapse Meditation Tea Chair

Coming to terms with my Relapse

It’s the part about living with a chronic illness that nobody wants to talk about. It doesn’t fit the neatly scripted formula.

Get sick. Heal yourself with food. Beat the odds. Live happily ever after. That is how the script is supposed to read.

Life doesn’t always fit into neatly colored boxes. Some days I wish it did.

It’s the messy part of a holistic wellness journey. That despite food, lifestyle changes and self-care, outside environmental triggers can ignite a relapse.

My trigger was stress. I now know this.

Becoming my own Health Coaching Client

My Hashimoto’s disease has returned, but this time is different.

This time I am grateful.

I am grateful for the experience to deepen my understanding of my own body. To reconnect with what it needs.   To know my own limits. To be OK with my limits.

Getting sick again has forced me to reexamine and uproot every aspect of my life. I have become my own client.  

Getting sick again has forced me to reeducate myself and expand my learning on the link between our digestive system, our immune system and our brain chemistry.   It’s all connected.

Getting sick again has turned on a passion to use my own body as my testing lab. It is helping me heal.

Getting sick again has forced me to be a better health coach. It’s ignited an even deeper love for my work and strengthened my belief in the powerful role dietary and lifestyle changes hold in managing disease.  

Releasing Fear to Find Healing

It has forced me to truly connect with my clients on a deeper level. I understand now more than ever the fear around the unknown.  

There is a lot of fear.  I am working to release it.

Instead I am choosing to focus on the positive.

I focus on the fact that some days I feel completely healthy. That I can still practice and teach yoga with as much joy as when I stepped onto the mat for the first time.

I am focusing on that I have access to some of the best doctors and that I have been graced with a determination and drive to educate myself and figure out what is happening in my own body so I can continue to help others do the same.  

These things are helping me heal. I am grateful. Read about how I thrive with this disorder here.


Managing my Autoimmune Thyroid Disorder

I am sick. I live with a chronic illness. I seldom talk about it.  Most people don’t know. You wouldn’t know by looking at me. You wouldn’t know by talking to me.

I strive to live life in the present moment. In this present moment I am healthy.

My illness is always there. The fear of falling into a downward spiral is always there. Managing my symptoms is a daily task.


I have an autoimmune thyroid disorder. This disease once overtook my life. I lived this disease. At times I was so fatigued I couldn’t walk. I couldn’t run a mile. At times I couldn’t get out of bed. Anxiety consumed me. My life was clouded by depression. I numbed my emotions with food. I was overweight. I was unhappy.

I didn’t know there was any other way to live. I didn’t know what it felt like to feel alive.  I didn’t know what it felt like to truly live.  

Facing my disease head-on

My body gave out and it forced me to wake up. It forced me to take a hard look at my life.  It forced me to look at what I was putting into my body. It forced me to evaluate if the stress in my life was worth it.  It forced me to ask the question: was I happy with the life and career I had constructed for myself?  It forced me to stop living in the confines I had put on myself.These lessons. This journey. The hardships. I wouldn’t trade them for anything.  

What I’ve learned is that life doesn’t just happen. We may not have control over everything, but what we can control is how we choose to live in this moment. How we live right now.

We can peel back and dive deep into the layers of our lives.  We can look at if the food we are putting into our bodies is truly serving us.  We can ask ourselves the tough questions and start to make changes or we can ignore it all and continue to live half awake.  

Learning to surrender and thrive

When we begin to take care of our bodies. When we begin to dive deep and stop pretending. The essence of who we truly are begins to come alive. The beauty of life begins to appear.

If you’re ready to see the beauty of life that awaits you, it starts with surrender. It starts with asking for help. It starts with prioritizing your health.  

What would your life look like if you lived even a little more authentically?  It’s worth asking.  It could be the beginning of something beautiful.


meditation pillow hardwood floors

I’ve wanted to write this blog post for weeks.  It’s been on my to-do list for weeks.  There has been an aching of anxiety deep in the pit of my stomach for weeks.  

I deeply wanted to write from a place of honesty, authenticity and clarity. I searched. I couldn’t find that place within myself.

I would have moments of inspiration. The lessons of my journey over the last couple of months that I wanted to share to inspire others to take a leap of faith and then to trust their gut to let go if in the end it wasn’t right— but as quickly as those moments would come, they would vanish.

I would push off writing for another day.  I would do it another day.  Another day.  

The truth? I’m still sorting through the sharp, raw and jagged fragmented pieces of my experience moving to San Diego and then returning home three months later.  Yes, I have returned to Boston.

meditation portrait
I’m still sorting through the experiences that ignited and exposed a deeply lonely place within myself I was sure I healed.  A lonely place that I still strive to fill with outward career success that only feeds more deeply into the cycle of loneliness.  

The experiences that sent my health into a tailspin and brought me to a place I never thought I would revisit.   

The experiences where I temporarily lost who I was and that left me feeling completely uprooted with no earth beneath me.  

These experiences are still swirling around in me. They are raw. They are real.  

Four months ago I quit my job in Boston and three months ago I left my family, friends and community behind to move to San Diego to embark on a new job opportunity. A new chapter.  

I was craving an adventure. I wanted to shake things up. I was inspired by the constructed image of living carefree at the beach and thought every difficult life decision I’ve been wrestling with and terrified to make—leaving the comforts of a typical 9-5 to pour myself into my passion for health coaching and truly commit to building my business— would magically melt away by warm temperatures and beautiful sunsets.  

My difficult decisions didn’t disappear when I moved to San Diego. In fact, when I removed the comforts of my life that allowed me to stay content by playing it safe, the fear around those decisions magnified.

I moved to San Diego and I lost myself.  I stopped cooking. I stopped practicing yoga. I stopped running. I stopped sleeping. I stopped feeding my soul. I stopped feeling alive.  

Instead I worked. I worked all night. I worked weekends. I worked until I ran myself into the ground and my body once again told me enough.

I thought if I just worked and crossed everything off my to-do list, the lump in my throat and pit in my stomach screaming at me to stop, screaming at me to wake up, telling me that this wasn’t right would just disappear.  It didn’t work.

My days in San Diego were filled with fear and anxiety.  I would wake up in panic.  I dreaded my to-do list, but feared failing.  I feared quitting. I feared being 3,000 miles away from family, friends and my support system without a job. I feared what people would think.  I feared what I would do next.  Mostly, I feared not being perfect.

Thankfully the screaming inside me to wake up became louder than the fear that controlled my everyday life and I walked away.  I quit.

There is a laundry list of reasons why my job in San Diego wasn’t a good fit and how it quickly became a toxic environment, but to focus on the external and ignore my own internal reaction is to sell myself short.

It is simply a distraction from the real work. It is a distraction from my own truth.  

The real work is learning how to stay centered and grounded amidst turmoil.   To truly know that my own worth is greater than any one experience, one job, one title.

The real work is learning how to say no to opportunities that do not serve my higher purpose.

The real work is to tune in and to trust the answer. The real work is to trust.

I knew my job wasn’t a good fit before I even left for San Diego, but I brushed it off for the thrill and excitement of something new. I ignored my own internal compass, which knew right from wrong.  Instead I told myself,  “I just need to settle in.”  “New jobs are always stressful.”  

I’m now back in Boston sifting through these fragmented experiences.  Healing will take time. Getting healthy again will take time and feeling the earth underneath me again will take time. I’m ready to be patient.  

What I do know is that I’m incredibly grateful for the experience, for the renewed sense of purpose it brought about and that I’m ready to begin again.