Like many women, I entered perimenopause unexpectedly and, honestly, somewhat shockingly.

At the time, I was practicing yoga five times a week and, for perhaps the first time since having three children, I truly loved my body. I felt strong. I felt healthy. I felt at home in myself.

Then it seemed to change overnight.

Suddenly, I was dealing with anxiety, fatigue, insomnia, night sweats, and a rapid weight gain of nearly twenty pounds in just a couple of months, despite continuing intermittent fasting, yoga, and increasing my activity level.

I felt powerless.

No matter what I did, my body seemed to be operating by a completely different set of rules.

Then, a few months later, came the back pain.

Not the occasional ache or stiffness many of us experience. This was debilitating pain that left me in tears and questioning what would happen to my life if it continued.

I could barely bend down to pick something up from the floor. Movement became something I feared rather than enjoyed. Sitting still was often the only position that offered relief.

At 48 years old, I found myself asking terrifying questions.

If I feel like this now, what will my life look like in ten years?

Will I still be able to do the work I love?

Will I lose my independence?

At times, I imagined myself in a wheelchair by 58 if things continued at this rate.

Looking Beyond the Symptoms

Of course, I initially approached what was happening as a physical problem requiring a physical solution.

I sought traditional medical care, participated in physical therapy, and received a cortisone injection. When these approaches did not bring the relief I hoped for, the next recommendations included additional interventions and the possibility of surgery in the future.

While I remain deeply grateful for the role Western medicine plays in healthcare, I sensed that my own healing would require me to look more broadly.

What followed became one of the most profound journeys of my life.

I began exploring complementary approaches, including craniosacral therapy, acupuncture, chiropractic care, red light and Biomat therapies, meditation, and functional medicine. I paid closer attention to nutrition, addressed vitamin and mineral deficiencies, and gradually began reconnecting with movement through walking.

Yet some of the greatest shifts did not occur only on the physical level.

As a psychotherapist, I turned toward the emotional and psychological dimensions of my experience. Through EMDR, Internal Family Systems (IFS), somatic awareness, and deep self-inquiry, I began exploring old wounds, protective patterns, and emotional burdens I had carried for years.

As a Reiki Master and spiritual practitioner, I also explored what this experience meant to me energetically and spiritually. I worked with self-Reiki, Kundalini practices, sound, ancestral healing, and past-life regression. I became curious about themes of emotional suppression, worthiness, sensuality, feminine expression, creativity, receiving, and security.

I began looking beyond my individual story as well, exploring the family trauma, survival patterns, cultural conditioning, and inherited beliefs that had shaped generations before me and perhaps shaped how I had learned to live within my own body.

One of the most profound turning points for me came through past-life regression. Whether understood psychologically, symbolically, spiritually, or energetically, something shifted. My relationship with myself and with my body began to change.

At the same time, I felt called to step more fully into my purpose. I began following the quiet inner nudges toward greater authenticity, service, joy, and eventually sound healing. Sound became another meaningful pathway for me into regulation, presence, and restoration.

Healing Became Something Larger

Looking back, I don't attribute what changed to any single intervention.

My experience taught me the importance of attending to many dimensions of myself — body, mind, emotions, relationships, energy, spirituality, ancestry, and purpose.

And gradually, I realized that my journey wasn't simply about eliminating pain.

At first, that was all I wanted.

I wanted my symptoms to stop. I wanted my body to cooperate again. I wanted to return to who I had been before.

What I discovered instead was an invitation into a different relationship with myself.

As I began listening to my body rather than constantly fighting it, something unexpected happened.

The body that had felt like a source of suffering began to become a source of wisdom.

I became curious about my symptoms rather than seeing them only as obstacles. I began paying attention to what my nervous system, emotions, relationships, and inner life might be asking me to notice.

And as layers of fear, suppression, old pain, and inherited patterns began to loosen, I found myself reconnecting with something that had been there beneath the noise.

My intuition became clearer.

My relationship with myself became more authentic.

I understood my patterns and relationships differently.

I felt more connected to my purpose — and to life itself.

What I had originally understood as a journey of healing gradually revealed itself to me as a journey of remembering.

Remembering who I was beneath the conditioning.

Remembering how to listen to my body.

Remembering what mattered.

And remembering that I was not separate from my body, from others, from the generations that came before and will come after me, or from the deeper intelligence of life itself.

Why This Matters to the Work I Do Today

Today, this experience profoundly informs the way I sit with other women.

I believe the body is intelligent and worthy of our attention. Rather than viewing symptoms only as obstacles to overcome, I am interested in approaching our experiences with curiosity, while always honoring the importance of appropriate medical and mental health care.

Symptom relief matters deeply.

But my own journey taught me that healing can sometimes become something more.

It can become a restoration of connection.

Connection to the body.

Connection to intuition.

Connection to purpose.

Connection to our ancestors and our descendants.

Connection to one another.

And ultimately, connection to the greater whole of which we are a part.