Helga Dalla Holistic Wellness Mentor

21/09/2026

𝙃𝙤𝙬 𝙙𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙞𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙗𝙤𝙙𝙮 𝙞𝙨 𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙪𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙡?

Most of us were taught to look in one place for the answer.
𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙘𝙖𝙡𝙚𝙨.
𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙩𝙚𝙨𝙩.
𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙣𝙪𝙢𝙗𝙚𝙧 𝙜𝙤𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙙𝙤𝙬𝙣.

Those things matter. But in my experience they're usually the last to move, not the first.

When a body starts coming out of stress mode, the early signs are much quieter. Easy to miss if you're not looking for them. Easy to dismiss if you are.

You wake once in the night instead of three times.

You notice you're hungry at a normal time, instead of starving or not at all.

Something annoying happens and you're over it by lunch, instead of carrying it to bed.

You sit down in the afternoon and don't feel guilty about it.

None of that shows up on a chart. 𝘼𝙡𝙡 𝙤𝙛 𝙞𝙩 𝙞𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙣𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙤𝙪𝙨 𝙨𝙮𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙢 𝙩𝙚𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙞𝙩'𝙨 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡 𝙨𝙖𝙛𝙚 𝙚𝙣𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝 𝙩𝙤 𝙙𝙤 𝙞𝙩𝙨 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙡 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙠: 𝙧𝙚𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧, 𝙙𝙞𝙜𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣, 𝙝𝙤𝙧𝙢𝙤𝙣𝙚𝙨, 𝙨𝙡𝙚𝙚𝙥.

𝙊𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙣𝙚𝙭𝙩 𝙩𝙬𝙤 𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙠𝙨 𝙄 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙖𝙡𝙠 𝙖𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙚𝙫𝙞𝙙𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚.. Not the dramatic before-and-after kind. The small, real kind that tells you you're heading the right way long before anything else does.

𝙒𝙝𝙖𝙩'𝙨 𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙨𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩'𝙨 𝙗𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙖 𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙚 𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙞𝙚𝙧 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙡𝙮? 𝙀𝙫𝙚𝙣 𝙞𝙛 𝙞𝙩 𝙨𝙚𝙚𝙢𝙨 𝙩𝙤𝙤 𝙨𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙩𝙤 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩.

20/09/2026

𝗟𝗮𝘀𝘁 𝘄𝗲𝗲𝗸 𝗜 𝗴𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗳𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝗱𝗿𝗶𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝗶𝗻𝗳𝗹𝗮𝗺𝗺𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻. This week I gave you 𝗳𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝘀𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲𝘀.

Here's the thread between them, and 𝗶𝘁'𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗵𝗼𝗹𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝗵𝗼𝘄 𝗜 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸.

Everything I've described for a fortnight is the same thing wearing different clothes.

𝗔 𝗯𝗼𝗱𝘆 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗵𝗮𝘀 𝗻𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗯𝗲𝗲𝗻 𝗴𝗶𝘃𝗲𝗻 𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗺𝗶𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝘁𝗼 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗱𝗼𝘄𝗻.

𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝘂𝗻𝗳𝗶𝗻𝗶𝘀𝗵𝗲𝗱 𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘀.
𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗹𝗲𝗲𝗽 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗱𝗼𝗲𝘀𝗻'𝘁 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿.
𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗵𝗮𝗽𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗱𝗮𝘆.
𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘀𝗮𝘆 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗶𝘁.
𝗔𝗹𝗹 𝗼𝗳 𝗶𝘁 𝗶𝘀 𝗮 𝗻𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗼𝘂𝘀 𝘀𝘆𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗺 𝗵𝗼𝗹𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗮 𝗽𝗼𝘀𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗶𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝗻𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗯𝘂𝗶𝗹𝘁 𝘁𝗼 𝗵𝗼𝗹𝗱 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘆𝗲𝗮𝗿𝘀.

And this is why the order matters more than the effort.

𝗜𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗯𝗼𝗱𝘆 𝗶𝘀 𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗶𝗻 𝘀𝘂𝗿𝘃𝗶𝘃𝗮𝗹 𝗺𝗼𝗱𝗲 it will 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗻𝗱 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗿𝗰𝗲𝘀 𝗼𝗻 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿.

It will 𝗻𝗼𝘁 let go of what it thinks it needs.
It will 𝗻𝗼𝘁 respond to a fast the way the book said it would.
It will 𝗻𝗼𝘁 get the benefit of the supplement you're taking, because the conditions for using it properly aren't there.

So a woman does everything right, gets very little, and concludes that she is the problem.

𝗦𝗵𝗲 𝗶𝘀𝗻'𝘁. 𝗦𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗿𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝗮𝘁 𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗽 𝗳𝗼𝘂𝗿.

𝗖𝗮𝗹𝗺 first. Not because it's gentle or nice or self-care, but because it's the step that makes every other step work.
👇🏼
𝗧𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗶𝘃𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿.
👇🏼
𝗧𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝗹𝗼𝘄𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗹𝗼𝗮𝗱.
👇🏼
𝗔𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗻… 𝗼𝗻𝗹𝘆 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗻, 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗺𝗲𝘁𝗮𝗯𝗼𝗹𝗶𝗰 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸 The fasting, the rhythm, the strategy everybody wants to start with.

𝗧𝗵𝗮𝘁'𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗿𝗲 𝗮𝗿𝗴𝘂𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁. 𝗜𝘁'𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗼𝗻 𝗺𝘆 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸 𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗸𝘀 𝘀𝗹𝗼𝘄𝗲𝗿 𝗮𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗯𝗲𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝗻 𝗺𝗼𝘀𝘁 𝗽𝗲𝗼𝗽𝗹𝗲'𝘀, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗶𝘁'𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗼𝗻 𝗶𝘁 𝗵𝗼𝗹𝗱𝘀.

I'm away this week so I'll be slow to answer. 𝗕𝘂𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗶𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗜'𝗱 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘁𝗼 𝘀𝗶𝘁 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵.

19/09/2026

𝗔 𝗾𝘂𝗶𝗲𝘁 𝗼𝗻𝗲, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗜'𝗺 𝗮𝘄𝗮𝘆 𝗳𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝗺𝘆 𝗱𝗲𝘀𝗸 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗻𝗲𝘅𝘁 𝘄𝗲𝗲𝗸… so this is exactly what it looks like. A thought, left here, no homework attached.

This week I gave your four sentences:

𝙄'𝙢 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙚.
𝙄'𝙡𝙡 𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙞𝙨 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙞𝙨𝙝𝙚𝙙.
𝙊𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙥𝙚𝙤𝙥𝙡𝙚 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙞𝙩 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙨𝙚.
𝙄𝙩 𝙢𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙗𝙚 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙄'𝙢 𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜.

And what struck me writing them out is that 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗺 𝗶𝘀 𝗮 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗽𝗹𝗮𝗶𝗻𝘁.

𝗘𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆 𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗴𝗹𝗲 𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗺 𝗶𝘀 𝗮 𝘄𝗼𝗺𝗮𝗻 𝗺𝗮𝗻𝗮𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗴.

That's what all of this actually is. Not weakness, not denial, not a mindset problem.
𝗔 𝘄𝗼𝗺𝗮𝗻 𝘄𝗵𝗼 𝗴𝗼𝘁 𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆, 𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆 𝗴𝗼𝗼𝗱 𝗮𝘁 𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗿𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗹𝗲𝘁𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗶𝘁 𝘀𝗵𝗼𝘄, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝘄𝗼𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗱 𝘄𝗵𝘆 𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗯𝗼𝗱𝘆 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝘀𝗼 𝘁𝗶𝗿𝗲𝗱.

𝗬𝗼𝘂 𝘄𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗻𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗺𝗮𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗶𝘁 𝘂𝗽.

You were just 𝗲𝘅𝘁𝗿𝗲𝗺𝗲𝗹𝘆 𝗴𝗼𝗼𝗱 𝗮𝘁 𝗵𝗶𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗶𝘁, 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗮 𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲, from everybody including yourself.

Nothing to do with that today.

18/09/2026

𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐤 I told you the sentence I said for two years was “𝐈'𝐦 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐞.” I didn’t tell you what it was covering.

We’d go out for dinner, and the food would come, and I’d slide my plate across the table to my husband so he could cut it up for me. 𝐍𝐞𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐮𝐬 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐭. 𝐖𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐚 𝐬𝐲𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐦.

I couldn’t open a can of dog food. My own dog. Standing at the bench with the tin and the opener and my hands would not do it.

At night my hands throbbed, and if I reached up to pull the blankets over, the pain woke me. 𝐀 𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐭 𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐲 𝐚𝐬 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝. A sheet.

𝐈 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐮𝐩 𝐦𝐲 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐧. 😢 Nobody told me to. I was frightened I’d drop one, because my wrists were that weak and I didn’t trust them.

And I couldn’t walk the dog, because my feet hurt too much.

𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞. And on any single day of it, if you’d asked how I was, I’d have said 𝐈'𝐦 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐞. Not to be brave. It didn’t occur to me to say anything else.

Here’s what I understand now.

I thought “𝐈'𝐦 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐞” was 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐬. 🤪

It was an instruction. Every time I said it and carried on as though it were true, I confirmed to my own body that the situation was handled.

𝐈𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐝. And a body that believes the emergency is being managed does not stand down.

I’m telling you all of this now because I told nobody then.

If you’re sliding your plate across a table and saying nothing about it, don’t put it in the comments.

𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐝, 𝐭𝐨 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐢𝐭.

That isn’t a treatment.

𝗜𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗯𝗲𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗼𝗳 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸𝗲𝗱 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗺𝗲.💃

18/09/2026

𝐈𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐢𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞'𝐬 𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 — 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐩𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫.

I'm Helga Dalla. Before I worked in health I was a photographer, and what I kept seeing through the lens was that people weren't broken. They were overwhelmed.

Years later I found myself in exactly that place.

𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐈 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐝, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐡𝐲 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐬𝐲𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐦.

The body doesn't respond to pressure. 𝐈𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐟𝐞𝐭𝐲.

Free training: There's a reason your body hasn't been responding: link in the YouTube caption.

If you're doing everything right and your body still isn't respondi...

18/09/2026

Whenever I talk about the nervous system, a 𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐧𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐰𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐠𝐨 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐞𝐭. I’ve worked out why, and 𝐈 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐠𝐨.

It sounds like being dismissed again.

Because you have heard a version of it before, probably from somebody with qualifications.

𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬.
𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐱𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐲.
𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬.
𝐇𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐠𝐚.
𝐌𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠..

I was told it too, in 2016, with a straight face, while my joints were visibly swollen. So if something in you tightened when I said “𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐬𝐲𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐦”, I understand it completely and I’m not offended by it.

But I want to be precise, because 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞 and the difference 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐥𝐲

“𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝” means: this isn’t real, and you are producing it.

What I’m describing is a physical state, and 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞.

𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐥 𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐩𝐮𝐭, 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐯𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲, 𝐝𝐢𝐠𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐟𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞, 𝐢𝐦𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 — a body in long-term survival mode looks different on paper to a body that isn’t.

𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐚 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐩𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐲.

The nervous system isn’t a mood. It runs through your gut, your heart, your jaw, your shoulders, your immune response and every organ you have.

𝐒𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞'𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞.

They told you the problem was in your head.

𝐈'𝐦 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲… 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐚𝐭.

You were never making it up.

𝗬𝗼𝘂 𝘄𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝘀𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗿𝗼𝗻𝗴 𝗱𝗲𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁.

rheumatoidarthritis

17/09/2026

Here's what I've heard from women over the last few years, almost word for word, over and over.

“𝙄'𝙢 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙚.”
“𝙄'𝙡𝙡 𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 𝙨𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙚 𝙙𝙤𝙬𝙣.”
“𝙄 𝙙𝙤𝙣'𝙩 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙚 𝙨𝙞𝙘𝙠.”
“𝙊𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙥𝙚𝙤𝙥𝙡𝙚 𝙢𝙖𝙣𝙖𝙜𝙚.”
“𝙄𝙛 𝙄 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙥 𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙄'𝙡𝙡 𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝙖𝙜𝙖𝙞𝙣.”
“𝙄𝙩'𝙨 𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙞𝙚𝙧 𝙞𝙛 𝙄 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙙𝙤 𝙞𝙩 𝙢𝙮𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛.”
“𝙄'𝙢 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙗𝙖𝙗𝙡𝙮 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙜𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙤𝙡𝙙.”

That last one does more quiet damage than any of the others, and it almost always gets said with a laugh.

I'm not going to tell you today that changing the sentence changes your health. It doesn't, not on its own, and anyone who tells you otherwise is selling something.

But the sentence tells you what state you've been living in. And the state is what decides whether anything else you do actually lands.

𝗦𝗼, 𝘄𝗵𝗶𝗰𝗵 𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗶𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿𝘀? 𝗣𝘂𝘁 𝗶𝘁 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘀 𝗲𝘅𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗹𝘆 𝗮𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘀𝗮𝘆 𝗶𝘁. 𝗙𝗶𝗿𝘀𝘁 𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲 𝗼𝗻𝗹𝘆, 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗲𝗹𝘀𝗲 𝗿𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗶𝗿𝗲𝗱.

𝙄'𝙡𝙡 𝙜𝙤 𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙨𝙩, so I'm not asking anything I wouldn't do. Mine was “𝙄'𝙢 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙚.” Twenty times a day. For years.

14/09/2026

𝗦𝗼𝗺𝗲𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗜'𝘃𝗲 𝗻𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗹𝗮𝗶𝗱 𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗶𝗻 𝗼𝗿𝗱𝗲𝗿.

Between the rheumatoid arthritis diagnosis in 2015 and the point where things finally started to shift, there were about two years where I did everything I could think of and got steadily worse.

I've told you before that what changed was understanding my body was in survival mode. What I haven't told you is how it stayed there.

It stayed there because of four sentences. I said them constantly, out loud and to myself, and I thought they were simply how a capable woman talks.

“𝙄'𝙢 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙚.”

I said it to my husband, to my doctor, and to myself before I'd finished waking up. Here's the problem. Your nervous system doesn't run on facts, it runs on signals. Every time I said I'm fine and then carried on as though I were, I confirmed the situation was handled. So it stayed on.

“𝙄'𝙡𝙡 𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙞𝙨 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙞𝙨𝙝𝙚𝙙.”

There was always a next thing. Rest turned into a reward I never qualified for, and a body that is never given permission to stop is a body that never gets around to repair.

“𝙊𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙥𝙚𝙤𝙥𝙡𝙚 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙞𝙩 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙨𝙚.”

Completely true. Also completely irrelevant to your immune system. This is the sentence women use to talk themselves out of care, and I used it for years.

“𝙄𝙩 𝙢𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙗𝙚 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙄'𝙢 𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜.”

Two years of elimination. I became genuinely expert at food and never once looked at the load I was carrying. Food was the only variable I felt I had any control over, so food is where all of my effort went.

Here's what I understand now, and it took a long time.

Your body doesn't respond to what you decide. It responds to what you tell it, over and over, without noticing you're doing it.

I wasn't unwell because of four sentences. But those four sentences are how I kept my body in the exact state that made everything else I tried not work.

𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗺 𝗮𝗴𝗮𝗶𝗻. 𝗦𝗲𝗲 𝗶𝗳 𝗮𝗻𝘆 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗺 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿𝘀.

14/09/2026

A quiet one this Monday morning.

𝙁𝙞𝙫𝙚 𝙙𝙧𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙞𝙣𝙛𝙡𝙖𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣, 𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙖 𝙙𝙖𝙮:

the stress that never finished,
the sleep that doesn't repair,
the shape of your day,
movement at either extreme, and
the thing you haven't said out loud.

Not one of them is food. And I notice that landed as relief for some of you and as something heavier for others, because a food problem is at least a problem you can shop your way out of, and these ones ask more.

So before you make a plan about any of it, one Monday thought.

Every single one of those five is something you've been carrying quietly, for a long time, without much acknowledgement, while continuing to function at a level most people around you have never once questioned.

𝙏𝙝𝙖𝙩'𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙖 𝙙𝙞𝙖𝙜𝙣𝙤𝙨𝙞𝙨. That's a description of a woman doing something extremely difficult, well, for years.

𝙉𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝙛𝙞𝙭 𝙩𝙤𝙙𝙖𝙮. 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙙𝙧𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙨 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙗𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙤𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙧𝙤𝙬.