Ok y’all, it's time to get super real with you. I’ve let you in on some pieces of this but I’ve been guarding the whole story. So here it is, in all its painful and shameful detail.

9 months ago, Casmir and I found a wholesale home that needed a lot of work. We had been daydreaming about flipping homes for so long, and everything seemed to fall into place with this one. So we jumped on it. And we jumped in head first. I’m talking not just a graceful swan dive – a straight up upside-down cannonball. We took on thousands of things we didn’t know how to do and tried to do them. With people we couldn’t trust and just a horrible storm of things going wrong. And in the pursuit of working two jobs, then quitting my job to start a business, selling our home without knowing where we were headed next, I lost it. All of it. First slowly, then all at once. I lost it. My health. My sanity. My hope. My fear took over and my anxiety was guiding.

Things reached their peak about 6 weeks ago. I was truly just debilitated by my anxiety. It was paralyzing. I couldn’t get through a day without crumbling under exhaustion or my whole system over-running from anxiety. My brain fog was on another level. Let’s just say I aced biochemistry and microbiology and advanced medical nutrition therapy and (I passed) organic chemistry. I whizzed through school pretty easily and this online real estate class, which is a joke in comparison to the detailed system of how your body breaks down carbohydrates, had been kicking my ass. Because I couldn’t focus. Ever. Even in conversations it was a strain just to keep my mind present enough to stay in the flow of responses. I had no energy to make it through the day, let alone work out and move my body the way I never have struggled to. I was slowly gaining bloat and pudge over the months of stress, but then it all came on real fast and hard. I had (or lets be honest, still have now) curves I’ve never seen on my body and my normally large but strong thighs just turned to massive mush. My periods had been increasingly getting bad since getting off the pill last May, but they were becoming unmanageable. I’d spend 2 or 3 whole days curled up on the couch with my heating pad (if I was lucky and not over the toilet trying not to throw up). And maybe the worst part, everything just felt hard. So hard. Just driving to Lowe’s to pick up an order for a contractor was hard. Stepping out into the Texas heat was hard. Having any semblance of a healthy conversation about our next steps in our business was hard. Being loving toward my sweet, supportive husband was hard. And bless his soul he loved me so well through all of this but finally threw up his arms saying “I’m sick of this and not knowing!”

So I went to the doctor thinking I had PCOS or some sex-hormone based syndrome. She runs a general blood panel and lo and behold my TSH is high. I have hypothyroidism. Hypothyroidism, where your metabolism slows or stops working and you can experience fatigue, weight gain, increased sensitivity to stimuli, anxiety, depression, weakness, heavier than normal periods, brain fog, impaired memory. I’m looking at this lab report on my computer screen having no idea how to feel. Relief because I have an answer? Fear I’ll be on medication for the rest of my life? Shame because my body isn’t working? The swarm of mixed emotions hit me so so hard.

Quite a few more tests later, it’s all summed up with this: I have hypothyroidism. My antibodies aren’t high enough for a Hashimoto’s Thyroiditis diagnosis (the autoimmune version), but because I already have an autoimmune disease and my antibodies are still present, we’re working off the fact that my own immune system has been attacking my thyroid cells. And without intervention, I’m quickly on the way there. Likely because my adrenals are absolutely shot from 9 months of chronic stress and major life changes. Fortunately my uterine and vaginal ultrasound was clear of any cysts (praise God!) so likely my insanely painful periods and menstrual symptoms are a consequence of the start of my hormone system being under attack. And I tested positive for an MTHR gene mutation, which simply means my body doesn’t methylate at full capacity and therefore doesn’t detox as efficiently. So toxins of any and all kinds (from beauty products, from plastics, from air, or even just my own hormones and stress responses) just stay in my system longer and need a little more help getting out.

And in the midst of all this, I’ve been so ashamed. Ashamed that I’m sick. That I’m suffering through things I thought I could fix. Ashamed I’ve gained 25 pounds I never thought my hips would carry. That my clothes don’t fit and my face is puffy and I sure don’t look like a girl you should trust to encourage you in health. Ashamed that I preach self care and self worth and I’ve been so deeply drowning in a severe lack of both. That I inspire y’all to listen to your bodies and learn to love their messages and I’ve been drowning mine out because I can’t stand to hear what it’s telling me. And mostly just ashamed that I had given up hope. I truly started to believe that I had lost myself and I was never getting her back.

And in all my doubt, I questioned the purpose of all this. And if I even have anything to share that’s worthy of being heard.

But I’ve been reminded of one thing that will never change for me or for you: I am worthy and my story is worthy. Even our ugliness and deep dark valleys are worthy. And this platform and this space and this content has a purpose. It was all started with one simple intention: to share. And not just to share my knowledge but to share my journey. My success in healing naturally, my struggles in autoimmunity, my fears in self sabotage, my battle in disordered eating. And most importantly to share my freedom story. To show y’all, through my own experiences, that healing is possible and hope is real. So so real.

So after lotsss of research and an embarrassingly large amount of crying, I put on my big girl panties and I crafted an attack plan. My “Battle for Healing” as I’m calling it. I’ll share that with y’all, in all its detailed glory, in another blog post. But I mostly wanted to sit down and type this all out for y’all to explain why I’ve been absent and why you’ll be hearing all about anti-inflammatory diets and crazy gut-healing supplements. But also to tell y’all (and let’s be real, tell myself) that this is worthy. The messy parts of our journeys are worthy. Because they’re where we grow. They’re how we change. And I’ll be honest in admitting I spent a lot of time wondering why the Lord was making me suffer through this and why the hell I have to have an autoimmune disease, but I’m clinging to James 1:2-4.

Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.

He hasn’t promised smooth sailing, but He has promised purpose in our trials. And this trial of mine is serving a purpose in me, but by sharing it, I’m choosing to also give it purpose for you. Whatever that purpose may be. 

So thanks for reading this far. You’re a champ just for getting down to this paragraph. But also, thanks for walking this journey with me. Thanks for investing in me and believing in me and trusting in me. Life is a battle ‘til the end and you better believe we can fight it with the hope of victory. This battle is one I’m fighting for that purpose. More to come. xx, molls