SjayWanders

Time for some real talk:
The new “lifestyle disease” haunting too many women is PCOS—polycystic ovarian syndrome.

I got my first period in Grade 8.
Back then, it was all about stained uniforms and long, unpredictable cycles. PCOS wasn’t even something we talked about. I had every test under the sun, but no real answers.

Fast forward a few years, I found myself in a Canadian hospital with a prolonged period—and walked out with birth control pills.

That’s where my spiral began.

The Silent Spiral

I was fairly skinny back then.
Young. Curious. And excited about birth control—it felt like a rite of passage. What I didn’t realize was how much it would mess with my body.

I gained over 10kg.
My hormones were all over the place.
I went months without a period.
Then came the acne.
Then came the shame.

There was no ChatGPT to guide me.
No online sisterhood.
Just late nights, crash diets, and self-loathing.

I stopped looking in the mirror.
I stopped recognizing myself.

There were days I didn’t recognize myself. But even when I turned away, she was still walking.

I Hit a Basement I Didn’t Know Existed

As an international student, I was afraid to go back to the hospital again.
I didn’t have the words to explain what I was feeling.
But the weight gain wasn’t just physical. It sat on my chest. It pressed on my confidence. It crushed my joy.

The Trip That Changed Everything

Years later, I visited India.
The body shaming hit hard—comments that felt like cuts. But one day, I looked at my mom and said, “I need to see a gynecologist.”

I needed answers. I needed truth.
That’s when I saw it: tiny cysts on the ultrasound screen.

PCOS. Finally, a name for the chaos.

But naming it didn’t heal it.
Healing came later. Slowly. Through trial and error. Through messy mornings and quiet wins.

The Mirror Moment

The real shift?

I looked in the mirror and saw someone petrified. Someone I didn’t even know.
And I decided—that girl needed me.

That was the day I stopped running from myself and started showing up. Not with perfection. Not with the “right plan.” But with willingness.

Want to Join Me?

I’m not healed. I’m healing.
And if you’re on your own hormonal, bloated, confused, rage-crying, tender-hearted journey — I’m with you.

Let me know if you want to join me.
I’ll be here, sharing what works, what doesn’t, and the truths I wish someone had handed me years ago.

You don’t owe the world a flat stomach.
You owe yourself grace.

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