This Is What a Healing Journey Looks Like

Today marks 11 years since I had my thyroid removed, and this is what a healing journey looks like.

I was 6.5 months postpartum. Scared. Confused. Diagnosed just three months earlier, the whole experience unfolded so quickly I barely had time to process it—let alone prepare. I had to stop breastfeeding overnight. I was handed a future I didn’t ask for: daily hormone therapy, for life. To this day, I still have trouble swallowing that pill at times…

At the time, I remembered how much I loved being pregnant. I was in awe of my body—how it changed and supporting the little life growing inside of me. After my son was born, and before I was diagnosed, I gave myself two years to “get back” to my pre-pregnancy weight. And then… cancer.

Treatment and hormone therapy completely turned my world upside down. It would take nearly four years to stabilize my medication. Four years of trying to mother, heal, and find a sense of balance while my systems were wildly dysregulated. The thyroid, although not quite a master gland, plays a key role in ones health. It governs energy, metabolism, mood, weight, sleep… everything. And mine was gone.

Also, at the time, I had sold my business (my first yoga studio) which meant I was financially dependent on my husband. I worked when I could, but I was exhausted, emotional, overwhelmed—and trying so hard to stay afloat and keep showing up.

It’s been a journey. One I’m still processing, even 11 years out.

And now, as I move through perimenopause, I’m facing another shift. My medication has been adjusted again. My weight resembles where I was when I was pregnant. I have a belly—a “pooch”—that I’m learning to support instead of resent.

But through it all—through it all—my practice has been my companion.

Not perfectly. But consistently.

On the mat. Off the mat. Breath by breath. Day by day.

Yes, the asana is important. Because it reminds me of action. Of showing up—not for performance, but for presence. Of choosing to be with myself, as I am. That action feeds how I show up in the rest of my life: in the mundane, the chaos, the sacred, and the ordinary.

This is why I teach.

Not because I’ve mastered anything, but because I’ve practiced through everything.

I teach to share. To pass on the teachings of those who came before me, and to offer my own lived wisdom: that even when everything falls apart, we can keep showing up. We can breathe. We can be with what is. And we can heal.

This is what a healing journey really looks like. Not linear. Not glamorous. But real. And sacred.

So today, 11 years later, I bow to the woman I was. I honor the one I am. And I share this story for the women—like you—who are walking through their own.

You are not alone. And it’s never too late to begin again.