“It’s the end of the world as we know it…”
That’s the opening line of an old R.E.M. song—and in 2018, that’s exactly how my world felt, like it had started with an earthquake.
That year, I was invited to speak at a conference on weight and fertility. As I dove into the research, something inside me shifted. I became passionate, not just about the science, but about the stories behind the science: the way people, especially women in bigger bodies, are often shamed for their weight. I began to understand that overeating isn’t a failure of willpower. It’s often a coping mechanism—a response to pain, not a reflection of character.
I saw clearly that obesity is complex. Genetics, environment, trauma, hormones—these threads weave a story that can’t be untangled with diets or shame. That moment lit a fire in me. I knew then that helping people repair their relationship with food and movement was going to be part of my life’s work.
A Shift, Both Professional and Personal
At the same time, I felt a restlessness stir. I still loved educating nurses—and I always will—but I missed working directly with women. I missed hearing their stories, helping them make sense of their habits, their healing, their why.
I became especially curious about how women manage stress and trauma because I was learning how to manage my own.
For six months, I had unexplained stomach pain. I saw specialists. I considered exploratory surgery. But when I made a few key changes in my lifestyle, relationships, and emotional patterns, the pain… disappeared.
That experience changed everything. I felt the truth behind the phrase “listen to your gut.” I became living proof that our emotional world directly shapes our physical health.
Going Inward: A 75-Day Shift
I wanted to understand more. So, for 75 days, I committed to a different kind of prescription:
- I journaled daily
- I read everything I could on inner work and emotional regulation
- I drank more water, stopped drinking alcohol, and exercised twice a day, rain or shine
The journaling became my anchor. It helped me close the gap between who I was inside—my thoughts, fears, and beliefs—and how I was showing up in the world.
That process brought something back to me: calm. Clarity. Confidence.
I stopped seeking everyone’s opinion (except for my most trusted circle—my coach, my therapist, and a few close friends). I started tuning into my intuition. I stopped people-pleasing. I set boundaries, and some relationships didn’t survive that shift.
Was it sad? Absolutely. But then I remembered something that changed how I grieved:
“The only people who are upset about your boundaries are the ones who benefited from you having none.”
The Hard Work of Healing
Inner work isn’t pretty. It’s not a quick fix.
It’s messy. Lonely at times. Uncomfortable always.
But it’s also liberating. Empowering. And it changed my life.
For the first time in a long time, I felt whole.
I wasn’t dragging through my days. The 2 p.m. slump disappeared. People noticed my glow—my hair, my skin—but the most beautiful change was the one they couldn’t see: I felt at home in myself.
I Was Ready
And here’s what I believe with my whole heart:
You can do hard things, too.
(Thank you, Glennon Doyle.)
You can set boundaries without guilt.
You can stop relying on food, alcohol, or people-pleasing to numb what hurts.
You can reconnect with your body, not as a project to fix, but as a place to come home to.
I was ready.
The question is: Are you?
If your answer is “maybe” or “not yet,” that’s okay.
You don’t have to take the leap alone.
–Monica
