I didn’t heal loudly
Why my recovery happened in silence, behind closed doors, and far from the performance of public vulnerability.
It’s been an interesting start to the new year…
All of my husband’s and my dreams seem to be coming to fruition. The seeds we’ve sown over the years seem to be taking root, and that, in itself, has thrown us into a state of shock — constantly asking ourselves, “Is this real life?” while anticipating something bad to happen.
Everything is happening quickly, at a pace that my body and mind haven’t experienced in years. Not only are we moving to Montana — the only place that has ever felt like home to us — but we are building our dream house together. Our home in Austin sold over Christmas, in a perceived “dead” selling market, and we hit the pavement running as soon as we came back from spending our holidays in Canada, packing up our house, interviewing movers, finding a rental home in Montana, and getting organized to break ground on our property in the spring.
All of this is unfolding as I have been moving out of the liminal space that I’ve been journeying through for the past few years. From a body that felt broken, to a mind that felt shattered, and a heart that was full of grief… to this quick pace. It’s felt like a lot for me to transition into, and yet I'm somehow flowing through it… maybe not as gracefully as I’d prefer… but I’m here, and I’m welcoming this new chapter with open arms and a hesitant yet hopeful heart.
As this year began, I started having visions of Kambo again. I hadn’t sat with Kambo in 7 months, and before that, I had paused my personal work with Kambo at the end of 2023. I followed the vision and asked a close friend and fellow practitioner to serve me this past weekend, and the ceremony turned out to be beautiful. I didn’t force it, nor did I seek it out to fix me in any way. I simply felt called and chose to listen.
As a seasoned Kambo practitioner and advocate for entheogens, it took immense courage to pause my work with these ceremonial medicines because more often than not, this type of facilitatorship becomes an identity...
But I knew I had to pause.
My health was deteriorating (triggered by a traumatic event — Leia’s story), and my personal use of plant and amphibian medicines was exacerbating my overwhelmed system.
What I really needed was rest, nourishment, and the opportunity to fully surrender to my healing without force.
I needed to pause and be present with all that I was experiencing, without trying to fix anything.
I also needed time and space to gather data through allopathic means so I could better understand what was happening within my body. Because truthfully, things became so bad that I could barely walk up and down the stairs without gripping the railing — the pain shooting through my body was overwhelming.
Due to my age and how I looked physically, I was gaslit over and over again. My primary care doctor never took me seriously, and it was difficult to find a doctor who would listen and actually hear me instead of judging me based on how I looked and my forced physical endurance. I had to advocate for myself and did so relentlessly until I got the testing I needed. From countless blood tests to ultrasounds and specialist appointments, we uncovered the following...
My hormones were completely depleted to post-menopausal levels, my adrenals were tanked, my endometriosis was at an all-time high and unbearably painful, I had extreme levels of SIBO, and my kidneys were failing.
And when it comes to my mental health, I was diagnosed with C-PTSD and PTSD, both of which were severely impacting my cognitive function. This wasn’t just brain fog — this was acute memory loss that had me forgetting where I was for brief moments (which was incredibly frightening), and forgetting the names of basic items like a spatula. I never made this information public because I was genuinely scared.
You don’t need to heal publicly.
You need to heal honestly.
