Last week I had a complete hysterectomy. Uterus, ovaries, fallopian tubes, all of it, gone. Two hours in surgery. Two nights in hospital. Ten thousand dollars.

Now my tummy hurts.

It's a strange thing, sitting in a body that's suddenly missing pieces it carried for decades. A system that ran its course, or in my case, raged its course, and finally got shut down for good.

The PMDD Rollercoaster

If you know, you know. My cycle was 21 days. Seven of those, every single time, I was drowning: temperature regulation gone, rage boiling under the surface constantly, anxiety attacks, migraines, bloating, intrusive suicidal thoughts. Check, check, check. Cognitive function some days felt like solving advanced calculus just to send a text. Driving wasn't always safe.

Here's the part that gets people: I knew how to manage it. I had the strategies. I teach women how to ride these waves for a living, how to let the thought pass without believing it, how to breathe through the storm. I was never a danger to myself. But the noise was constant. Every single day was CBT strategies, deep breathing, a weighted blanket, managing, tolerating. I could do it. I just didn't want to anymore.

This Was an Easy Decision. Convincing My Doctors Wasn't.

I knew a hysterectomy wasn't a quick fix, and I made the decision anyway. That part was easy. What wasn't easy was getting a conservative medical team to take me seriously. Two years, two years, to get my endocrinologist and OB-GYN on board. And the privilege of even having that option came with a $10,000 price tag. Life-changing healthcare costing as much as a small car. Ridiculous.

But I wasn't flailing. I wasn't desperate. I had this handled. I was regulating my symptoms, I was coping, I just didn't want to keep pouring that much energy into surviving. I wanted that energy back, for my boys, for my life, for me.

A week post-op now, stitched up, sore, moving slow, letting my body catch up. I don't know yet what this changes long term. I do know I finally got off the ride. That's a good place to start.

There's No One-Size-Fits-All Answer

This choice isn't easy and it's not the answer for everyone. What I know is that I tried everything first, every tool, every treatment, every option on the table, before I landed on the one that actually worked for me. Some women land on medical menopause instead, and what that actually involves is worth understanding properly before anyone signs up for it, mine included.

This isn't about doing what's "right." It's about making your life easier, finally feeling like yourself again for more than one week a month. Whatever road you're on, you're not walking it alone. If you want to talk through your own options with someone who's actually lived this end of the spectrum, book a 1:1 session.

If you've got questions for me, drop them in the comments, or DM me on Instagram.