Posted in Health & Wellness

Until I’m Skinny Enough to Deserve Treatment

I’ve lived most of my adult life in the uncomfortable intersection of womanhood and size. Every doctor’s appointment, every lab test, every routine checkup carries with it a quiet but unmistakable message: “Until I’m skinny enough, my health concerns aren’t serious.” And if I’m being honest, that message has shaped not just how I feel about my body, but how I feel about seeking care at all.

Walking into a medical office as a plus-size woman is like stepping onto a stage where I’ve already been judged. Before a single symptom is addressed, I know that assumptions will be made, advice will be given, and my experiences will be filtered through the lens of my size. And after years of this, the anxiety it breeds has become almost unbearable.

Every Visit Starts the Same Way

It doesn’t matter what issue brings me into the office. A lingering ache in my knees? Fatigue that never lifts? Digestive issues? Even these can’t escape the gravitational pull of weight bias. I’ve been told, more times than I can count, that if I just lost weight, all my problems would disappear. Sometimes this comes gently, sometimes as a directive. Either way, the effect is the same: my symptoms are diminished, my experiences dismissed, my body blamed before my voice is heard.

And it’s exhausting. The mental preparation for each visit, the internal debate about whether it’s “worth it” to face judgment again, has caused me to avoid care altogether at times. The fear of walking into that room, of being met with assumptions and subtle condescension, is overwhelming.

The Mental Health Toll

Living under this constant scrutiny has affected more than my physical health. It has chipped away at my mental well-being. I feel an underlying anxiety every time I think about needing medical care. It’s a strange mix of fear, frustration, and self-doubt. I question whether my concerns are valid enough to raise, whether my body is “worthy” of attention, and whether seeking help will simply lead to judgment.

This anxiety doesn’t stay at the clinic door. It follows me home. It colors the way I think about my body, my health, and even my daily choices. When the system that’s supposed to protect you starts to feel like a threat, it’s impossible not to feel vulnerable, powerless, and alone.

Health Shouldn’t Be Conditional

The cruel irony is that weight does not define wellness. Conditions like thyroid disorders, diabetes, polycystic ovary syndrome, cardiovascular issues, and even chronic fatigue affect women of all sizes. Yet, for plus-size women, the default explanation is always the same: your weight is the problem.

This approach isn’t just dismissive—it’s dangerous. When doctors focus on size rather than symptoms, testing is delayed, treatment is postponed, and serious health issues can go unnoticed. Preventive screenings, which could save lives, are sometimes avoided or inadequately administered because equipment or assumptions fail to accommodate larger bodies. Health should not be a reward for shrinking. It should be a right, available to all, right now.

The Emotional Labor of Advocacy

Over the years, I’ve had to become my own advocate in a system that often feels designed to overlook me. I’ve learned to ask questions, insist on tests, and push for proper evaluation. I’ve had to insist that my symptoms are legitimate and that my health matters. But the emotional labor required for this is immense. Every visit takes energy, courage, and mental fortitude—energy I wish I could spend on healing instead of defending my existence.

I know I’m not alone in this. Thousands of plus-size women navigate the same bias daily, negotiating a healthcare system that seems to care more about the size of our bodies than the complexity of our symptoms. This isn’t about vanity. It’s about survival, dignity, and justice.

Reframing What Health Means

I’ve had to reframe my understanding of health and self-worth. Health is not a number on a scale. It is function, wellness, emotional resilience, and the ability to live a fulfilling life. My body deserves care not because it meets societal standards, but because it is mine—and because I am worthy of attention, compassion, and respect.

Even when the system fails, I’ve learned to advocate, speak out, and refuse to internalize blame. I’ve connected with supportive providers, therapists, and communities that understand size-inclusive care. I’ve discovered that acknowledging my worth is a radical act in a world that too often equates thinness with legitimacy.

Moving Toward Change

Change will not happen overnight, but it starts with awareness. Healthcare professionals must confront their biases, listen without judgment, and provide care that is evidence-based rather than assumption-driven. Clinics need equipment, resources, and protocols that accommodate all bodies.

And patients like me must continue to advocate—not just for ourselves, but for every woman who has felt invisible or dismissed. By sharing our experiences, by insisting on proper treatment, and by refusing to let our health be conditional, we can challenge the harmful systems that have persisted for far too long.

Conclusion: Health Without Conditions

For decades, I’ve faced the implicit message: “Until you’re skinny enough, your health concerns don’t matter.” But I refuse to believe that my size determines my right to care. Every woman deserves treatment, compassion, and attention—without judgment, without delay, and without preconditions.

We deserve to walk into a clinic and know our voices will be heard, our concerns validated, and our bodies respected. Until that becomes the standard, we continue to share our stories, advocate fiercely, and demand a healthcare system that sees us—exactly as we are.

Because health should never be conditional. It should always be a right.

Photo by Shaun Meintjes on Unsplash

Posted in Midlife & Beyond

Godly Rest Is Earned, Not Entitled

We live in a world obsessed with rest.

Self-care. Slow living. Soft life. Early retirement. “I’m just tired.” We hear it everywhere. And while I absolutely believe rest is sacred, I also believe we’ve confused Godly rest with comfort without contribution.

Recently, I had a conversation with my daughter, Emilie, that put words to something I’ve been feeling for a long time.

Emilie works hard.

Spring, summer, and fall in her home are not lazy seasons. They are full. She preserves vegetables, cans fruit, bakes bread, prepares meals, freezes food, and stocks her pantry. She plans ahead. She thinks long-term. She equips her household with intention.

Why?

So that when winter comes, she can rest.

Not scramble. Not panic. Not strive.
Rest.

That is Godly rest.

God Worked Before He Rested

In the opening chapter of Genesis, we see the original pattern for life. God created the heavens and the earth in six days. He spoke light into existence. He separated land and sea. He formed plants, stars, animals, and mankind.

Six full days of work.

Then — and only then — He rested.

Scripture tells us in Genesis 2:2 that on the seventh day, God finished His work and rested from all He had done.

He did not rest instead of working.
He rested after working.

There is a divine order there.

It’s Not Just Spiritual — It’s Mathematical

When you look at the creation pattern, it’s almost like a math equation:

6 days of work
1 day of rest

That’s a 6:1 ratio. Roughly 85% work, 15% rest.

Emilie unintentionally mirrors this rhythm in her own life. She works three quarters of the year preparing her home. Then she rests in the winter, enjoying the fruit of her labor.

It’s simple math.

Work + Preparation = Rest
No Work + No Preparation = Stress

Yet so many people today want the winter rest without the spring planting.

They want the harvest without the sowing.
The provision without the preparation.
The peace without the discipline.

The Danger of Wanting Rest Without Work

Wanting rest without work doesn’t produce peace. It produces anxiety.

Because rest without preparation is fragile. It depends on luck, others’ labor, or constant scrambling.

Godly rest, on the other hand, is stable.

It’s the feeling of opening your freezer in January and knowing it’s full because you filled it in July.

It’s sitting down at the end of the week knowing you gave your best.

It’s Sabbath that feels sweet because you poured yourself out Monday through Saturday.

Real rest feels good because something was accomplished.

Godly Rest Is Rhythmic, Not Lazy

God did not design us for burnout. But He also did not design us for idleness.

Work came before the fall. Purpose was part of Eden. Tending the garden was a gift, not a punishment.

Rest is not an escape from responsibility.
It is a reward of faithfulness.

When Emilie rests in the winter, it isn’t laziness. It’s wisdom. It’s the natural outcome of diligence. She isn’t exhausted and resentful — she is satisfied.

That’s the difference.

The Easy Life Is a Mirage

Our culture sells the idea of an easy life right now. Immediate comfort. Immediate reward. Immediate rest.

But Scripture paints a different picture.

There is sowing and reaping.
There is planting and harvesting.
There is working and resting.

If we bypass the working season, we rob ourselves of the deep satisfaction that makes rest meaningful.

Godly rest isn’t about doing nothing all the time. It’s about honoring the rhythm God established from the beginning.

The Invitation

Maybe the question isn’t, “Why am I so tired?”

Maybe the better question is, “Have I honored the rhythm?”

Have I worked faithfully?
Have I prepared wisely?
Have I embraced my season?

Because when work is done with purpose, rest becomes holy.

Emilie understands something simple but profound: you can’t rest well in winter if you wasted the summer.

God showed us the formula in the very first pages of Scripture. Six days He worked. One day He rested.

It’s not just theology.
It’s design.
It’s math.
It’s wisdom.

And it still works.

Photo by Maddi Bazzocco on Unsplash

Posted in Faith in Real Life

Moving Forward When Self-Doubt Holds You Back

There are moments when I realize the greatest resistance to the life God is inviting me into isn’t the enemy, my circumstances, or a lack of opportunity—it’s me.

More specifically, it’s my self-doubt, my habit of comparison, and my tendency to procrastinate when obedience feels unclear or uncomfortable.

I second-guess everything.

Even when God opens a door, I pause at the threshold, questioning whether I heard Him correctly, whether I’m qualified, or whether someone else could do it better. Instead of moving forward, I linger in uncertainty, convincing myself I just need a little more confirmation, a little more clarity, or—if I’m honest—a safer plan.

Self-Doubt: When I Question What God Has Already Confirmed

Self-doubt has a quiet way of disguising itself as humility or wisdom. But often, it’s simply unbelief dressed up as caution.

God speaks, and I immediately respond with questions:

  • What if I’m wrong?
  • What if I fail?
  • What if I misunderstood Him?

Yet Scripture reminds me that God is not vague or confusing with His children.

“For God is not a God of confusion but of peace.” (1 Corinthians 14:33)

When I constantly second-guess what God has already made clear, I end up trusting my insecurity more than His voice. I forget that He knows my limitations—and still chooses me.

“Being confident of this, that He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion.” (Philippians 1:6)

Comparison: Looking Sideways Instead of Forward

Comparison is another trap that pulls me out of alignment with God’s will. When I focus on what others are doing, how fast they’re moving, or how successful they appear, I lose sight of my own assignment.

Comparison distorts my perspective. It makes me feel behind when God never asked me to run someone else’s race.

“Let us not become conceited, provoking and envying each other.” (Galatians 5:26)

God’s plan for my life is personal and intentional. When I measure myself against others, I unintentionally declare that His design wasn’t enough—or that His timing needs improvement.

Procrastination: Delayed Obedience in Disguise

Procrastination often shows up when faith is required.

When God asks me to step out before I feel ready, I default to waiting. Waiting to feel more confident. Waiting to feel more prepared. Waiting until I have a clear, step-by-step plan.

But delayed obedience is still disobedience.

“If you know the good you ought to do and don’t do it, you sin.” (James 4:17)

Faith was never meant to be comfortable. It was meant to be trusting.

My Obsession with Process vs. God’s Invitation to Faith

I love a process. A formula. A clear roadmap.

But God keeps reminding me that while processes have their place, they are not meant to replace faith. He doesn’t always give me the full plan—He gives me Himself.

“Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding.” (Proverbs 3:5–6)

I want God to hand me a detailed outline, but He asks me to walk with Him instead. His Word is my guidebook. His presence is my assurance. His promises are my process.

“Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path.” (Psalm 119:105)

A lamp doesn’t illuminate miles ahead—it shows just enough for the next step. And that’s where faith lives.

Choosing Faith Over Fear

Walking in the fullness of all God has for me requires surrendering my need to control outcomes, timelines, and certainty. It means believing that obedience matters more than perfection, and movement matters more than mastery.

“For we live by faith, not by sight.” (2 Corinthians 5:7)

God isn’t waiting for me to feel fearless. He’s waiting for me to trust Him enough to move forward anyway.

When I stop second-guessing, stop comparing, and stop postponing obedience, I make room for God to do what only He can do.

And maybe the fullness I’m longing for isn’t found in having everything figured out—but in finally saying, “Yes, Lord,” and taking the next step.

Closing Prayer

Father God,
Thank You for Your patience with me—for never giving up on me even when I hesitate, second-guess, or delay obedience. You see the places where self-doubt has silenced my confidence, where comparison has distracted my focus, and where procrastination has kept me from stepping fully into what You’ve already prepared for me.

Lord, forgive me for the times I’ve trusted my fear more than Your voice, my need for control more than Your promises, and my own understanding more than Your Word. Teach me to walk by faith and not by sight. Help me release my obsession with having every step mapped out and instead anchor my life in You.

Your Word says You have plans to prosper me and not to harm me, plans to give me hope and a future. I choose to believe that today. I ask for courage to take the next step—even when it feels uncomfortable—and humility to follow You even when the path is unclear.

Let Your Word be my guidebook, Your Spirit be my counselor, and Your presence be my confidence. I surrender comparison, fear, and delay, and I choose obedience, trust, and faith.

Have Your way in me, Lord. I want all that You have for me.In Jesus’ name,
Amen.

Posted in Health & Wellness

Brain Fog, Hot Flashes & Other Fun Midlife Surprises

I’m in year three of menopause madness, and let me tell you—it’s like my body staged a hostile takeover and forgot to leave a welcome mat.

It’s not fun.
It’s not helpful.
It’s not easy.

I’m hot. I’m emotional. I’m forgetful. I’m irritated… a lot. I’m pretty sure I’m not alone—somewhere out there, another woman is fanning herself while crying over lost car keys or screaming at the dog for no reason.

I’ve survived—or at least fought back—against the top five menopause symptoms. Sometimes my weapon of choice is chocolate. Sometimes it’s prayer. Sometimes it’s sheer stubbornness. And yes, sometimes I combine all three and call it a victory. Here’s how I’ve been slaying the beast… or at least beating her back when I need a chocolate bribe.

1. Hot Flashes: Spontaneous Combustion Happens

Hot flashes hit without warning. One second I’m sitting calmly, the next I feel like I’ve been microwaved alive. If spontaneous combustion were real, menopause would be the poster child.

I’ve wrestled with family members over the thermostat, cursed summer in every language I know, and considered moving to Antarctica.

Here’s my arsenal:

  • Cold water—I drink it like it’s an Olympic sport.
  • Light clothing—tanks, tees, and occasionally the tiniest whisper of dignity.
  • Fans—my ceiling fan runs 24/7 in high gear, and I’m not apologizing.
  • Cool showers—especially before bed. They save my sanity and my sheets.
  • Cornstarch powder—sounds bizarre, works miracles. Moisture doesn’t stand a chance.

“A gentle answer turns away wrath.” — Proverbs 15:1
Especially when someone dares touch the thermostat.

2. Emotional Rollercoaster: Cry, Rage, Laugh (All Before Breakfast)

Menopause hits like a silent scream that won’t quit. I cry, rage, and laugh—all before breakfast. Everything irritates me. Nothing feels right. The smallest frustrations feel like full-blown betrayals. Midlife crisis? More like menopause crisis.

Here’s how I survive the emotional chaos:

  • Take it to God. Ugly tears, loud prayers, honest hearts—it works.
  • Keep perspective. Bad moment ≠ bad life.
  • Laugh. Blogs, memes, articles written by other menopausal women remind me I’m not alone… just hormonally enhanced.
  • Talk to family. I lean on my sisters—they get it, and their patience is saintly.

“Cast all your anxiety on Him because He cares for you.” — 1 Peter 5:7
“Weeping may last through the night, but joy comes in the morning.” — Psalm 30:5

3. Brain Fog: Hide-and-Seek With Your Own Thoughts

My brain plays hide-and-seek and never tells me when it’s done. I used to feel sharp, clear, unstoppable. Now, words vanish mid-sentence. Thoughts hide in corners. I forget things I know I know. I once spent ten minutes looking for my glasses… while they were on my head.

Here’s what keeps me functional:

  • Stay calm. Panicking only thickens the fog.
  • Journal. Capture fleeting thoughts before menopause claims them forever.
  • Use a calendar. If it’s important, ink it in. No exceptions.

“God is not the author of confusion, but of peace.” — 1 Corinthians 14:33
“If any of you lacks wisdom, ask God.” — James 1:5

4. Weight Gain: My Body Went Rogue

I’ve always had a waist, plus-size or not. Then menopause hit. Now my hourglass has morphed into a more… grape-like shape. Nobody seems to make clothes for it. And jeans? Don’t get me started.

How I cope:

  • Grace first. Often served with chocolate or pasta, because boundaries exist but chocolate is essential.
  • Hydrate. Water, water, water—even when it’s freezing outside.
  • Vegetables. I’m trying for one with every meal. So far, I’ve succeeded… sometimes.
  • Movement. 2026 is my “get up and move” year. Walk, stretch, repeat. Hopefully, sweat and chocolate can coexist.

“Man looks at outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.” — 1 Samuel 16:7
“My body is a temple of the Holy Spirit.” — 1 Corinthians 6:19

(A well-loved, well-used temple.)

5. Aches and Pains: Menopause or Impending Doom?

Every twinge brings panic: menopause or urgent care? My knees, hips, and back like to remind me they’re aging gracefully—or maybe just testing my patience.

Here’s what I’ve learned:

  • Ignore Dr. Google. Doom and gloom are one search away.
  • Find a doctor who listens. They’re rare, but worth the hunt.
  • Rest and movement. Yes, both. Balance is key.

“He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.” — Psalm 147:3

A Few Final Weapons

Some medications help women survive menopause. If you trust your doctor, follow their guidance. I take a more holistic path, leaning on family, humor, and chocolate when necessary.

My family’s patience and love deserve medals. I hope to repay them someday, but for now, they help me survive this beast.

Most importantly, give yourself grace. Communicate. Ask for help. Celebrate small victories. Grieve the season ending, and make room for the next.

“There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens.” — Ecclesiastes 3:1

Menopause is wild. It’s weird. It’s exhausting. It’s annoying.

But light exists at the end of the hot-flash tunnel. And someday—gasp!—growing old gracefully might actually feel good. Chocolate optional, but highly recommended.

Photo by Skyler Ewing on Unsplash