It began as very dim light....Maybe more like a gaslight

 I got my first period on my very first Friday at boarding school. I was 13, had no idea what I was in for or how to use the weird things in the toilet bag mum had politely tucked out of sight in my room. From that moment on, something never quite felt right. My cycles were painful, irregular, and completely unpredictable, but like so many of us, I was told it was “normal” — just part of being a woman and that my cycle will mature eventually. It didn't, and guess what - it never did!

My amazing mother explored every medical and non-medical option trying to find answers. We were constantly searching for something that might help, something that might explain what was going on in my body. But nothing really changed. My skin was terrible, and no matter what I tried, it didn’t improve. My body didn’t feel like my own - I had that classic apple-shaped PCOS build, and I was stuck in this cycle of over-exercising and under-eating, trying to force my body into something it clearly didn’t want to be. 

Looking back now, I can see it so clearly. My body wasn’t broken - it was screaming. Things were out of control internally. My system was inflamed, dysregulated, and under pressure, and no one was joining the dots.

At 19, a new friend mentioned something I’d never even heard of before - endometriosis. Within months, I had been diagnosed, booked for surgery, and informed via telephone by my specialist that it was highly likely I would never conceive children naturally. That moment could have defined everything, but it didn’t and if you have ever met me, you will know that NEVER is just not my kinda language. 

After my first surgery, I was put on medication and, like a good girl, I did what I was told. Even though it made me feel awful, I stuck it out, trusting the process. But a couple of years later… here we bloody were again. Another surgery recommended. After my second laparoscopic surgery, I was prescribed more medication that made me incredibly unwell. At that point, it stopped feeling like treatment and started feeling like something I was just expected to tolerate.

And that was the moment I realised something wasn’t adding up. That was my personal turning point. Not because everything changed overnight - it didn’t. I still went on to have further surgeries. But something had shifted and that’s when I started asking better questions.

I began researching, learning, and looking beyond what I had been told. I explored diet, lifestyle, movement, natural and chinese medicine - not as a quick fix, but as a way to better understand what was actually happening inside my body and how I could support it. At the time, what we understood about endometriosis was very different to what we know now. I kept going back for surgeries, having tissue removed, only for things to continue growing - often in places well outside of where anyone had been looking.

So I lived in this cycle of intervention, recovery, and recurrence, trying to manage something no one had fully explained to me. And yet, in the middle of all of that, I went on to conceive and birth three children naturally. Not because it was straightforward, but because I refused to accept that my body was a lost cause (and my husband thinks he's absolutely the reason BTW). 

A month after turning 40, I had a bilateral oophorectomy. And even now, I still get the looks. The stares. The subtle hush that comes when I say it out loud. MENOPAUSE.... but I love this stage of my life and I’m very open about it. I’ll tell anyone who asks - and plenty who don’t - that no, I’m not in perimenopause. I’m well past that. In fact, I’m the youngest person I know who has gone through menopause. Or at least… I thought I was.

Until I completed my Master’s thesis on the impacts of surgical menopause in women under 30 in New Zealand. That changed everything. Because suddenly, this wasn’t just my experience - it was a much bigger story. One that wasn’t being talked about enough, understood well enough, or supported in the way it should be. 

And I’m open about all of it. My poor husband is now incredibly well-versed in everything hormonal. I talk about the body, the symptoms, the changes - all of it, and he's seen his fair share of meltdowns, tears, tiredness, insomnia and a bit of bat-shit crazy for good measure - nothing is off-limits for me.And honestly? It shouldn’t be for you either.

Because the more we normalise these conversations, the more we take our power back.

Did it fix everything? No. My endometriosis still flares.

But now, I don’t feel powerless when it does.Because now, I understand what my body is doing. I understand what it’s asking for. I no longer see it as something that’s failing me, but something that’s constantly communicating - adapting, responding, and trying to get my attention. And that’s where Glow was born.

Glow exists because I’m done with women being told that their pain is normal, that it's just hormones, that time of the month, that stage of life and that we should just live with it, or that everything is fine when we bloody well know, deep down, that it isn’t. GLOW exists to help you understand your body properly, so you don’t have to wait until it’s screaming to start listening.

This isn’t about quick fixes or one-size-fits-all protocols. It’s about education, awareness, and learning how to work with your body instead of feeling like you’re constantly fighting against it.

Because your body isn’t broken - It’s trying to be heard!

And I can’t bloody wait to meet you.