Week 1 — Surgery, Shock & Sleep

Week 1 was all about surrender. I’d spent years chasing “strong,” thinking if I worked out harder, lifted heavier, or pushed through the pain I could somehow fix what was breaking inside me. Spoiler alert: it wasn’t my abs, it was my uterus. Those fibroids had been running the show for way to long.

Coming home after surgery felt surreal. I was flat on my back, belly tender, moving in slow motion. Getting out of bed was an event, walking to the bathroom was cardio, and sleeping was my new full-time job. The first few days were a blur of meds, naps, and figuring out how to stand up without inventing new curse words.

And yet, under the soreness, there was relief,  like my body finally exhaled after years of holding tension. My back didn’t ache the same way, my hips felt lighter, and for the first time in forever, I could breathe deep without pressure in my gut.

“I wasn’t lazy or unmotivated — I was carrying pain that didn’t belong to me anymore.”

I cried more that week than I expected. Some tears were from pain, some from gratitude, and some from finally realizing just how long I’d been surviving instead of living. The meds knocked me out, but the awareness kept waking me up in new ways.

💭 What I’m Learning

• Healing is messy but honest — and that honesty feels like freedom.
• I don’t have to “bounce back”; I can rebuild differently.