When you expect answers but leave with more questions.

May 8th, 2025. The day that changed the entire trajectory of my life.

“Well, after reviewing your tests, it does appear that you have PCOS,” my doctor said matter-of-factly.

I thought this would be the moment I finally felt understood. Instead, I walked out of the office holding a diagnosis that felt more like a question mark than an answer.

Before the Diagnosis

I had always struggled with my menstrual cycle — irregular periods, intense cramping, wild mood swings. Deep down, I suspected some kind of hormonal imbalance, but every time I brought it up to a doctor, I was told my symptoms were “normal” and simply part of being a woman.

Over the years, my symptoms worsened. They started impacting my daily life, my relationships, my ability to keep a job, and my enjoyment of the things I loved. My mental health spiraled, but since doctors kept saying I was fine, I began to wonder if maybe I was just weak or overly sensitive.

Then came the symptoms I couldn’t ignore: coarse hair growing on my chin, thicker and darker hair on my body, cystic acne I’d never had as a teen, and hair thinning on my head. I knew this wasn’t “just part of being a woman.” I decided to find a new doctor who would take me seriously and run the tests I needed.

The Appointment That Changed Everything

When I finally sat down with my new doctor, I laid out every symptom, hoping for understanding. Instead, she zeroed in on my mood swings and abdominal pain, suggesting a psychiatrist for my “mood issues” and blaming the pain on my IUD.

When I asked about PCOS — more than once — she brushed it off, saying she didn’t think it was possible because I wasn’t overweight. Eventually, perhaps to appease me, she agreed to order labs and look for evidence of PCOS while checking my IUD placement.

The Diagnosis

A month later, I walked into her office terrified I’d be dismissed again. As I waited, I told myself my hands were shaking from the cold, but the truth was I was scared of hearing “everything looks normal” yet again.

She walked in and got straight to the point: my testosterone levels were extremely high, my ovaries were polycystic, and yes — I had PCOS. For a moment, I felt a wave of relief. Finally, proof. Finally, validation.

But the feeling didn’t last. The conversation that followed was rushed. She seemed irritated when I asked questions. Her “treatment plan” was simple: remove my IUD, start birth control, and when I wanted to get pregnant, start metformin.

That was it. A life-long medication with its own side effects, followed by another medication with more side effects. No discussion of root causes. No support for symptom management. No guidance on lifestyle or mental health.

Searching for Answers

I went home and started researching — and quickly fell down the TikTok rabbit hole. On one hand, it was comforting to learn I wasn’t alone and that there were other options. On the other, the sheer amount of information was overwhelming.

Much of it was contradictory. Every expert seemed to have a different “must-do” list, and I didn’t know what would actually help. The more I learned, the more I realized how misunderstood and under-researched PCOS truly is.

There’s no one-size-fits-all treatment. It presents differently in every woman, making it hard to pin down a universal care plan. I couldn’t afford a specialist or a holistic doctor, and my insurance didn’t cover a dietitian. I felt completely alone trying to piece it all together.

The Emotional Crash

That month was one of the lowest points in my life. I was exhausted, overwhelmed, and quietly grieving the possibility that I might struggle to have children — a fear I hadn’t wanted to face.

I felt misunderstood by everyone around me. I worried that if I spoke openly, people would think I was overreacting. My diagnosis didn’t feel like a milestone; it felt like another burden in a system that doesn’t take women’s pain seriously.

The Turning Point

And yet, somewhere deep down, a small part of me refused to give up. On the days I had the energy, I kept reading — not just about PCOS, but about mindset, wellness, and hope. Slowly, those words began to lift some of the heaviness.

One day, I realized I had a choice: stay in the cycle of frustration, or take ownership of my healing. That was the day I decided that if no one else was going to help me navigate this, I would become my own expert.

I began creating a plan, focusing on the fact that PCOS affects the whole body — and that as women, we often give so much to others that we forget to care for ourselves.

The Birth of The Healing Her Project

That choice became the seed for The Healing Her Project — a space where women can come together and not feel alone in navigating PCOS and life itself.

Here, I’ll share my journey, my trial-and-error, and everything I learn along the way. As I work toward becoming a licensed therapist and dive deeper into hormones and women’s wellness, I want to bring you with me — so we can heal together.

Part of my long-term vision is to become a certified health coach so I can provide even more informed, practical, and compassionate guidance for women navigating hormonal health challenges. While I’m not there yet, every step I’m taking now — every bit of research, every resource I discover — is building toward that future. And when the time comes, I’ll be ready to offer that support in a deeper way.

We deserve better than what conventional medicine has offered us. We deserve to be seen and heard as whole people. My hope is that this space can offer that to you.

You are not alone. We hear you, we see you, and we support you.

A diagnosis is just the beginning of your story — not the end of it.

The Diagnosis That Didn’t Feel Like a Relief : My PCOS Story