Four years ago, I was rushed to hospital with excruciating period pain. I was lightheaded, disoriented, and on the verge of passing out. Hours later, I walked out with a fibroid diagnosis and a mind racing with worry. All I could think was: What were fibroids, and why did I have them?
What are fibroids?
Fibroids are non-cancerous tumours that develop in or around the womb (uterus). Made up of muscle and fibrous tissue, they vary greatly in size. Fibroids affect an estimated 70–80% of women between the ages of 30 and 50 in the UK. In fact, two in three women in the UK will develop at least one fibroid in their lifetime. Often lurking silently, many women don’t realise they have fibroids until symptoms such as heavy bleeding, pain, or fertility issues demand attention.
In 2021, after nearly passing out from period pain, I went to A&E where scans revealed one large fibroid and several smaller ones. Despite the severity of my symptoms, I was told that fibroids were “normal” and that I would have to learn to live with the pain. The only solution offered was stronger pain medication and the advice to return to A&E if it got worse. There was no urgency and no discussion of long-term options—just the expectation that enduring pain would become my new normal.
While the exact cause of fibroids remains unknown, my doctor explained that they are closely linked to hormonal fluctuations, often triggered by significant lifestyle changes, pregnancy, stress, or medication. Research also suggests that genetics, an unbalanced diet, chronic stress, and vitamin D deficiency may influence their growth and development.
Month after month, both before and after my diagnosis, I endured period pain that felt anything but normal. As time went on, my mental health quietly deteriorated.
At the time, I have to admit, I was a workaholic, constantly prioritising productivity over my well-being, surrounded by environments that valued output more than me as a human being. Looking around, I realised I wasn’t alone—many of my female colleagues were silently suffering too, afraid to take time off in workplaces where exhaustion was normalised and self-care felt like a luxury.
Physically, the changes were impossible to ignore. I gained weight, experienced excessive bloating, and struggled with digestion. As the fibroids grew, I felt heavy in my body and increasingly self-conscious. Once known for my confidence and extroversion, the combined impact of fibroids and the isolating effects of COVID slowly transformed me into a more introverted version of myself.
The fibroids didn’t just alter my body—they eroded my self-esteem. The unpredictable moods, rising anxiety, sudden insecurity, and overwhelming self-consciousness began to make sense. I no longer recognised myself; I felt like a shell of the person I once was.
The Transition
By 2022, I knew I had to make a change. I took a brief career break, scaled back my work, and took a part-time job while nurturing my long-held business idea.
Alongside these life adjustments, I changed my diet, and started going to yoga and pilates classes, embracing the holistic healing practices I grew up around. Energy healing and alternative treatments became a quiet but powerful undercurrent in my journey. I vividly remember a Reiki practitioner in 2020 telling me, “You’re out of alignment and you need to use your voice.” At that moment, I didn’t recognized the truth in her words, but now I do.
The day of the Myomectomy
Ultimately, the fibroid diagnosis led me to transform my perspective on life and myself. Because of them, I prioritised my healing and living a ‘soft life’. It was the catalyst that shifted my focus from relentless survival to reminding me that sometimes, the bravest act is to slow down, listen to your body, and nurture your spirit.
I was scheduled for surgery on Valentine’s Day 2025, the weekend of my late grandmother’s birthday. It felt like a sign from a woman who had showered me with so much love in my childhood that this was the right time to let them go.
After a long wait and carrying fibroids that had grown as large as a 22‐week pregnancy, I knew that surgery was the best option for me. I remember praying my way through the entire experience—overwhelmed by fear yet determined to move forward. By the fourth day, I was walking out of the hospital.
The light after the storm
My journey with fibroids became a turning point that forced me to re-evaluate what truly mattered. Today, as I continue to heal and embrace a softer, more intentional way of living, I stand as a testament to the transformative power of resilience and self-love. If you’re facing your own health challenges or battling the weight of societal pressures, remember: you’re not alone. Let your story be a beacon for others, and never let life dim the light that burns within you.
