I have endometriosis and over the last ten years, I’ve tried a few different types of birth control to manage my symptoms.

Endometriosis is incurable and painful. My journey with it has been long (and winding), but I’ve learned a lot.

For starters, my body doesn’t love birth control. I know you’re probably thinking you’re married, just have a baby and problem solved. It’s true that pregnancy does help ease the symptoms of endo, but I’m just not there yet. So, my search for the perfect symptom management drug/tool continues.

About 8 months ago I had another surgery (an excision of endometriosis). It went well and my doctor implanted the Mirena IUD. I was kind of excited. I had read good things about it and wasn’t too worried that I would suffer many of the side effects.

Honestly, I should have known better. As I said earlier my body doesn’t love birth control (*I had a 3-month cycle once, all while on birth control (a story for another time)). It has a history of not responding very well to it, but I thought this would be different.

after a couple of months…

About two months in, I started to gain weight. Granted, it was the holiday season and then COVID hit, but I gained more than I expected to.

*If you’ve been here before you may have read my post on The F*uck it Diet, it’s helped me accept myself quite a bit.

On top of that, my skin did a complete 360 (in the worst way). I developed hormonal cystic acne on my chin and jaw line. I do know a thing or two about skin care, so believe me when I say I have tried a FEW different remedies for this. Unfortunately, hormonal acne is just difficult to get rid of.

a few days after removal

Cut to last Thursday, I had the Mirena removed and started on Sprintec. It’s only been a few days, but I already feel better. I’ve truly already seen an improvement in my skin. While i still have a few bumps, the overall texture of my skin has started to improve. I can’t say the same for my moods, but i’m sure that has something to do with my hormones trying to readjust.

Have you ever or do you currently have the Mirena IUD? How has your body responded to it?

Share your experiences with me in the comments.

with love & gratitude,

Steph

Clearing out physical and mental space can be pretty liberating. Over the past few weeks (during my hiatus), I’ve been cleaning house… literally. My closet has been cleaned out, clothes and shoes have been sold and donated, rooms have been saged; it’s been an experience.

All of this happened prior to the holidays. I was feeling super positive and inspired, ready to manifest damn near anything my heart desired.

then, I hit a wall

A figurative wall. I had surgery (an excision of endometriosis – shout out to my fellow endo-sufferers) and I was home eating crap for about two weeks. Now, you might be thinking “two weeks off of work sounds wonderful, there’s so much time to get things done.” On the contrary, I was pretty out of commission for most of the time. I quickly discovered that sitting around all day watching Netflix for days on end does not do it for me. As a matter of fact, I don’t think I’ve ever felt so complacent.

It sucked. I felt so great only days before having surgery; my space felt clean, my mind felt clear. I felt like the world was at my fingertips and I was just about to make shit happen.

what was going on?!

Let’s be real, I had had surgery, my hormones were whacked out. It felt like no matter how “positive” my attitude was, my reality wasn’t changing. Don’t get me wrong, I’m all about mind over matter. I love thinking positively and attracting good things. I genuinely think that stuff works. However, in order for that to work, you really have to believe it. Fake it till you make it is not real, my friends. You can fake anything you want (to everyone else), but when your mind isn’t right, nothing else will be either. No matter how great it looks on the outside.

accepted that BS and moved on…

Is exactly what I did. And guess what? it worked! I just let myself feel it. The overwhelming feelings of self-doubt, lack of inspiration, confusion and sadness. I let them all happen. Pretty much bathed myself in that ish. What I began to realize was that letting myself feel those things was actually helping me to feel better. I knew there was really nothing in my reality that warranted those feelings, so I reminded myself of that. It’s ok to have seasons of sadness or confusion. They are most often met by seasons of clarity and inspiration (at least for me they are).

just stop with the fake smile

As Ariana Grande would put it, “f**k a fake smile” (if you don’t know what I’m talking about, next time you’re feeling meh or blah, listen to that song). I’m not saying being a jerk to the people around you, but don’t appear to be feeling something that you aren’t feeling. People can sense your BS and it doesn’t feel good inside either.

All of this made me realize that trying to force myself to “think positively” wasn’t necessarily going to make positive things happen. In order for positive things to happen, we have to believe they will. You have to wholeheartedly believe that positive things can and will happen for you. If you genuinely believe that, you’ll move through the world that way. As opposed to just telling yourself that until you believe it. You get me?

If any of this resonated with you, let me know! I love your comments and feedback.

Stay tuned for my next post about how this discovery has positively impacted my life!

with love & gratitude,

steph

We all have pain. Maybe it’s from losing someone we love, going through a break up or experiencing some other type of trauma. Either way, it’s important to deal with your pain, but beyond that it’s really HARD.

Full disclosure – this post might be kind of sad or triggering and i’m selfishly writing it because this is my outlet, a safe place to share whatever I’m going through, and I want you to feel like you can share with me, too. So here goes!

I’m not sure if I’ve shared this before but my dad died when I was 7. It was really sudden and really awful. I’m the youngest of two children (my brother is 3 years older than me) so my mom raised us on her own (she’s amazing and she worked her ass off to make us feel like life was still normal) and it wasn’t easy.

I didn’t really feel it until much later…

If you’ve ever lost someone close to you, you know that the days following are typically filled with loved ones, funeral services, etc. There’s lots of people around, LOTS of distraction. All of that distraction doesn’t really give you the time to process WTH is actually happening. The days after my fathers death feel like a blur to me. I remember spending a lot of time with my family and being really happy about it because we didn’t usually see them so much during the week. At my father’s viewing (or funeral service – whatever you call it) I skipped around, I saw him laying there in his casket, but somehow it hadn’t hit me.

The day he was buried was similar to the wake (at least for me). I hadn’t processed it and even though everyone around me was somber and in tears, I still hadn’t come to the realization that this was the last time I’d ever see my fathers physical body.

the days following were weird

After everything was over, we had a few family members stay with us for a couple of weeks. My cousins wanted us to know that we weren’t alone and they wanted to be there to help my mom. I loved having them there. The house felt full and fun because my favorite people were there everyday – what could be better?!

Then the time came for them to leave, go back to their normal lives. Which meant we had to do the same. It was time to go back to school and for my mom to go back to work – I didn’t like this part. Suddenly my father wasn’t picking me up from school anymore. My teachers looked at me differently and some of the kids made fun of me because I had a “dead dad”. It was really weird. I’m not using the word painful because at this point, I still didn’t understand. I would get home after school and I would wait for him.

and then one day I realized I would be waiting forever..

I remember this part the most because that’s when my pain finally set in. I started to realize that I wasn’t going to see him again and I vividly remember trying to process the thought of never talking to my dad again and it HURT. It wasn’t until about two or three weeks after his funeral that I cried.

It was the first time I experienced that feeling you get in your chest when you’re really sad. I suppose it was heartbreak. I didn’t want to believe it and I couldn’t understand it. All of a sudden this man I saw every single day, who taught me how to ride a bike, blow my nose, made me love Titanic (it was one of his favorites), and a million other things, was just gone. Never to be seen again.

and it still effects me deeply as an adult..

You would think that nearly twenty years later, I would have dealt with all of my pain and fear of losing people. Turns out, I haven’t. I have nights where I can’t stop crying over it. Sometimes it feels like it’s happening all over again. I have this giant fear of losing the people closest to me. In fact, as a kid, I would make myself imagine people dying so that I could somehow prepare myself for the pain. And I still do this when I’m really anxious. I go into full-on panic mode; thinking about what I would do if I lost someone else I loved that much.

which is why I think it’s so important to deal with your pain…

I’ve been through therapy and I’m all about talking through your feelings and fears. It isn’t until recently that I realized how deep my pain goes or how much anger I feel about it sometimes. Sometimes we carry our pain around and become so used to the weight of it on our backs that we forget it’s even there. We don’t realize that our perspectives, attitudes, and interactions with others are all affected by it.

I continue to grieve as an adult. Lately it feels like I’ve been grieving for the little girl in me. I think a lot about the feeling of realizing I’d never see my father again and how deeply I felt it in my chest. I used to think about grief and loss as something you went through for a little while. I always believed that eventually it would just go away, but I’m learning that it doesn’t work like that. Feelings have to be dealt with because when they are buried or ignored, they sneak up on you, often at the worst times and in destructive ways.

I hope sharing this helped someone and that if you just lost someone recently, years ago, or even if you’ve gone through a traumatic break up that felt like a death, you know that you aren’t alone. It’s been helpful for me to get it off my chest and be honest about the pain.

with love & gratitude,

steph