Chronic illness has taken a lot from me.
There are days when the pain is all-consuming — when every thought is tangled with it. And on the rare pain-free days, I’m afraid to move, eat, or feel too deeply; terrified of breaking the mysterious balance that keeps the pain at bay.
For years, I disassociated from my body just to survive it. Doctors would ask, “Are you in pain today?” I’d shrug and say, “The usual.” Pain had become my baseline — my usual.
But something changed when I stopped fighting my chronic illness and started accepting it. When I stopped treating my body like the enemy and started treating it like a friend.
And surprisingly, it began to give as much as it had taken.
Learning to Listen Instead of Fight
Living with chronic pain has taught me how to listen — to my body, my limits, and the quiet wisdom inside constraint.
I used to chase fitness goals that made my symptoms worse. Running fueled inflammation. Eating ‘healthy’ did not fit with my stomach refusal to empty. Keeping a rigid workout schedule only added to the demands of an already over-demanded upon frame, spiking cortisol and leaving me simultaneously drained and anxiety ridden.
Now, when I focus on fitness, I move intuitively, letting my body lead. My physical therapist helped me learn to tune in. At first, it felt like trying to understand a faint message sent through a tin-can phone — but over time, the communication became clear.
Today, it’s like reading braille: my body says “here,” and I move.
That same connection has extended to my horses, to my patients, even to music. When I help a horse or a patient find release — when tension finally melts — it feels like magic. I’ve learned that being a listener is a greater gift than anything I could have forced into existence.
The Financial Side of Chronic Illness
Chronic illness has also reshaped how I think about money and scarcity.
I’m blessed with steady work, benefits, and a retirement plan. Yet medical bills, infertility treatments, and adoption costs have left us living paycheck to paycheck.
Once, that reality would have left me bitter and resentful. But now I see the gift within constraint. When pumpkin spice lattes are always within reach, they lose their taste. Appreciation is born from scarcity, not abundance.
This is true with health, too. When we’re forced to slow down, we notice life’s subtleties — the small pleasures that with ease become too quiet to hear.
When Letting Go Becomes the Path Forward
After my fourth surgery, I could no longer manage our eight-acre property. I mourned that loss deeply. Selling the farm seemed like the logical path — but my heart did not want to cooperate.
For months, I fought reality. Until I heard a quiet voice saying: “Let go of your of fear of the unknown. Trust this path forward will take you where you need to be.”
Because I had practiced release with my body, I could now practice it with my life.
The Blessing of Constraint
Our culture glorifies ease and calls it freedom. But what if true freedom only exists alongside constraint?
Like the concept of dialectical behavior therapy (DBT) teaches, two things can be true at once: freedom and constraint, discipline and flexibility, strength and surrender.
In dressage, a horse can’t find fluidity until the rider offers release. The cycle is tension → release → tension → release. It’s the same rhythm our bodies — and our lives — crave.
So the next time something feels taken from you, remember that cycle. Ask yourself:
“What is being given to me instead?”