I remember the day I bled for fifteen days.
I sat on the bathroom floor. I remember the smell of the bathroom that day.

Cold tiles. Tears in eyes. A strip of pills in my hand…
No other solution in mind.

Three different gynaes suggested six months of tablets. “This will fix it,” they said.

It did not feel like a fix.
My period came only when the pills told it to. My weight went up. My face puffed. Day-1 pain pinned me to the bed.

People talked behind my back. I stopped going out. I started hiding myself in big clothes and dim rooms. I laughed in photos but deep inside I knew the truth.

I still remember the day I freaked out because of the fear of infertility that comes with PCOS, I was crying and my husband asked me what happened? And I replied full of emotions, I want you to divorce me, I might not be able to give you a baby.

That was the worst phase of my life.
I tried everything they told me. Fruit cleanses. Veg-only days.

Detox this, detox that. Hungry body. Loud brain. No peace.

I’ve been/ I used to be an introvert. I don’t like being told what to do.

When someone said, “Do this,” I did the opposite. I was tired of rules that did not help me. I was tired of feeling like my body belonged to a small strip of tablets.

One night I looked in the mirror and said, “No more.”
I did not want a quick patch. I wanted my life back. So I started asking better questions. “What is happening under the surface? What is my body trying to say?”

I got my tests done and learned the signals. I studied the chemical makeup of human genetics, DNA and hormones. I studied ancient wisdom on PCOS & PCOD.