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Maybe you know her. Maybe you are her.
The woman who shows up no matter what. The hustler that knows what she wants, and knows no one else will do it for her, so she gets $hit done. The woman who smiles to cover up her hidden secrets within.
What you don’t see is her bawling her eyes out; the frustration, the suppressed anger. Lying in bed awake at 2 a.m. with pain, cramps, nausea, you name it, praying your body won’t betray you when you have to be out the door by 9.
I know this because I am her. But lately, I’ve realised how many of us there are.
Since moving to Dubai, I’ve met countless mind-blowingly amazing women who look, at least on their socials, like they’re winning at life.
They’re posting, they’re building, they’re getting ahead. Yet when you meet them in person, you hear of the debilitating health issues behind the hustle.
The hidden blood tests.
The sudden fatigue that knocks them flat.
The brain fog from lord-knows-what.
The chaos of menopause or hormones.
The unexplained aches that come out of nowhere.
That feeling like you’ve been hit by a bus.
Yet there are also days you feel unstoppable, however no matter how hard you try not to ‘jinx it’, inevitably, the next day, you feel like your body is falling, giving up on you for no clear reason.
And with my luck, it’s always on the days that matter most.
I’ve lost count of the times I’ve woken up at 2 a.m. feeling horrendous, knowing I have to be on stage by 9 with full hair, full face, full smile. Or logging on to deliver a webinar while silently begging my body to just hold it together for one more hour, praying that I can form coherent sentences.
It’s been 15 years since my health first started to decline. And while I understand a lot more about what affects me, there are still mornings when I ask the universe:
Why me?
And that’s why the hardest part isn’t the exhaustion, the cramps, the nausea, the dizziness. For me the hardest part is the mix of anger, and guilt.
Anger:
“Why can’t I just be someone who didn’t care about doing somethig meaningful? I’d just lie on the couch and re-watch Bridgerton for the 3rd time.”
But I’m too stubborn, and perhaps, admittedly, too proud to relent. I want to be out there, connecting with people’s hearts, not just their heads. I want to leave a mark, and help people feel less invisible, less alone.
Guilt:
“Other people have it worse. Stop complaining. Suck it up. Be grateful. Stop making excuses. Keep going”.
Or my ultimate favorite
“It’s all in your head”.
(That’s sarcasm, by the way).
We friggin’ can’t win.
But here’s what I’ve learned over the years:
It’s okay to feel angry, and express it too.
It’s okay to feel furious that you want to give so much, do so much, and sometimes your own body says “Ha! Nice try. No today.”
Because if we don’t let ourselves feel that anger, it turns inwards. It spirals. It eats us alive.
There’s no neat solution in this post.
No three-step plan to fix it.
Just a simple truth:
It sucks, but you’re not alone.
And maybe, just maybe, the bravest thing we can do for each other is to say it out loud, and let some of that anger out.
DrK x
