Claire’s story

My journey into women’s bodywork and nutrition began with my own experience of illness.

Seven years ago, I discovered I had severe stage 4 endometriosis, alongside PCOS, adenomyosis, IBS, CPTSD, PMDD, and ovarian cysts. It was a lot to hold—and as you can probably imagine, a deeply overwhelming time.

I was living with low self-esteem, anxiety, and a cloud of shame that seemed to cover the real me. I had very little faith in life and carried a deep sense of despair about the future. My body often demanded that I retreat to bed, flooded by a barrage of symptoms that cycled relentlessly.

I explored everything—medical and surgical treatments, naturopathy, acupuncture, psychology. And while each brought some relief, the symptoms persisted.

Things only began to truly shift when I explored the connection between mind, body, and spirit. Healing came slowly, not through a single breakthrough, but through small, consistent shifts in how I related to myself.
As I learned to listen to my body and respond with care, I began to rebuild trust—and gradually, my body stopped needing to speak so loudly.

With the support of generous mentors, friends, and family, I began to heal.
As I processed layers of unfelt emotion, unhelpful beliefs began to soften, and old patterns of tension and trauma released from my body.

I started to intentionally connect with my body on a regular basis. To regulate my nervous system. To gently release pressure and reconnect to joy through creativity, movement, intentional breathing, meditation, and time in nature.

Around this time, I also reintroduced animal foods into my diet after being vegan for several years.
To my amazement, many symptoms began to disappear.

I’m describing this in a somewhat linear way, but the lived experience was anything but. Every breakthrough was preceded by a breakdown.
There were moments that felt like the rug had been pulled out from beneath me—again and again.

But I came to see this as part of the heroine’s journey.
From brokenness and death, new life can emerge. Resurrection, if you will.
The process of becoming requires both descent and rise—a time of letting parts of ourselves become compost so that something more true can grow.
When we are held and supported by community, this descent can become deeply regenerative. Life-giving, even.

~

In 2023, my husband and I conceived our daughter shortly after our honeymoon—with a kind of ease that still blows me away. Given everything I’d faced, it was something I didn’t expect, and do not take for granted.

The pregnancy itself was a teacher, testing me personally and relationally. It showed me what needed to be released in order to walk through the passage into parenthood.

I experienced an earth-shattering active labour, followed by a surprisingly gentle and beautiful water birth in hospital—with the support of a private midwife, my husband, and a dear friend.
I emerged from the experience forever changed—body tender, mind blown, heart shimmering with love.

The first six weeks postpartum were a paradox, as they often are—full of oxytocin-laced newborn bliss, while also intensely challenging on every level. Sleep deprivation, hormonal upheaval, a painful tear, prolapse, and breastfeeding challenges all arrived at once. I was beautifully cared for at home by my family—and still, I had to dig deep to keep myself afloat.

Around the six-week mark, as I returned to simple rhythms of homemaking, I began to feel more like myself again. Weeks turned into months, and as a family, we started to find our new rhythm together.

I knew I had undergone a profound transformation, but the words hadn’t yet arrived. It needed time to percolate.
What I did know was this: I wasn’t the same woman anymore. And I felt closer to God than I ever had.

This story is still being written—and it brings me comfort to know I’m not the only one holding the pen.
Surrendering to God’s plan for my life has brought me immense peace.

~

This journey has reshaped me from the inside out. I no longer see healing as something to chase or fix, but as a process of deep listening, letting go, and remembering what was always true underneath it all.

I now walk alongside women, offering some of the tools that helped me reconnect with the wellspring of life within. Not to fix or rescue, but to support the remembering.

If you’re navigating your own descent or transformation, I want you to know you’re not alone. The path can feel messy, uncertain, or holy all at once, but it’s a path worth walking. I would be honoured to walk a little of it with you.

With warmth,
Claire