I didn’t just rebuild my body. I rebuilt myself.

There was a time I felt completely broken.

An abusive relationship that taught me to make myself small to stay safe. A cancer diagnosis when my babies were one and two, a bilateral mastectomy, and the terrifying thought that I might not be there to raise them. Divorce. Single motherhood. Years of holding everything together on the outside while quietly disappearing on the inside. Self-harm. Even homelessness.

I didn't recognise the woman in the mirror. And for a long time, I didn't think she was even worth recognising. But somewhere deep down I knew that wasn't the way I wanted it to be. I felt I was meant for more.

So I started slowly, messily, with no idea what I was doing. I found movement and it became my medicine. I started paying attention to what I was putting into my body, nourishing myself instead of punishing myself, and that changed everything too. I found strength training and it became my proof that I was capable of more than I thought.

I found mindset work, nervous system regulation, meditation, hypnotherapy, and forgiveness. All the tools that nobody had ever handed me before.

Piece by piece, I put myself back together.