Chapter 2: Breaking Cycles with My Voice
(The Hormonal Crisis)
Since my first menstrual cycle at eleven years old, I was taught what many girls hear: Pain is normal. Just deal with it.
Month after month, I did. Backaches flattened me. Uterine cramps interrupted entire days.
Heavy bleeding. Crushing fatigue. Emotional spirals.
I wore my suffering like a badge of honor, as if endurance was my only option. This was reflected both physically and relationally.
For years, I clung to identities that felt like “me” because they had been built over time:
The quiet Christian young lady who didn’t get angry, because she was “too grateful for that.”
The fun, adaptable, and confident girlfriend who kept the peace.
The loyal vegan who “should” feel better than her meat-eating relatives.
But at twenty-eight, I hit a breaking point.
I realized enduring pain wasn’t strength. Staying loyal to old versions of myself wasn’t growth.
If I wanted a different future, I would have to choose it. Demand it. Welcome it. Speak it into existence.
So I started listening to messages “from the future.”
First, I heard my intuition whispering that menstrual pain wasn’t just physical; it was emotional, too.
Second, I listened to the energy therapist in England. He helped me say things out loud that I had long been too afraid to admit:
Unhealed grief from childhood. Lingering heartache from adolescence. Silent doubts in my romantic relationship.
Every word I spoke carved a small exit door out of my old life.
Every truth I named loosened the grip of a story I no longer wanted to live.
Meanwhile, I looked at my nutrition with fresh eyes.
The vegan diet that had once felt like freedom had quietly become a trap of its own. Too many carbs, not enough proteins, healthy fats, vitamins, or minerals.
As much as I had been committed to veganism for the previous 5 years, I was more committed to evolving — to growing beyond the rigid identity I had once clung to.
Bit by bit, choice by choice, I built a new cycle.
Less sugar. More nourishing balance.
Less silence. More honesty.
Less loyalty to outdated identities. More loyalty to my unfolding health.
Naturally, the thought that I could have done this work sooner burned a bit. (Then again, it could have been the perfect timing.)
Slowly, my body responded.
Pain lessened. Emotions smoothed. Bleeding eased.
The monthly battle transformed into a quiet dialogue between me and the body I was learning to love, not fight.
I learned something vital:
Healing isn’t passive.
It demands choice.
It asks you to let old selves fall away…
and use your voice to walk toward the life you really want.
You don’t need to stay loyal to cycles (or identities) that hurt you.
You have permission to speak your truth, break the pattern, and design a new pattern.
