How I Approach Healing with Endometriosis (Body, Mind & Spirit)

For years, I thought healing meant "getting rid" of endo. No pain. No symptoms. No reminders. I chased the idea that if I just found the right doctor, surgery, or supplement, I could go back to being the version of myself that existed before the pain started.

But endometriosis doesn’t work like that.

Real healing—at least for me—has been less about erasing endo and more about transforming my relationship to my body, my energy, my choices, and my spirit. This post is about how I approach healing now: not as a destination, but as a layered, living process across my body, mind, and spirit.

Part 1: Healing the Body – Listening, Nourishing, Supporting

Before I was diagnosed, I treated my body like an enemy. When it flared, I got mad. When it asked for rest, I felt shame. I pushed through pain and called it strength. Now, I see healing the body as an act of cooperation—not domination.

Here’s what that looks like for me:

• Cycle Syncing: I no longer expect myself to perform at the same level every day of the month. I adjust my schedule based on where I am in my cycle—planning rest, soft movement, or social time accordingly.

• Anti-inflammatory Nutrition: I don’t follow a rigid food plan, but I’ve learned which foods trigger flare-ups and which bring relief. I focus on whole, unprocessed foods, lots of hydration, and minimizing sugar and dairy when possible.

• Movement with Intuition: Some days it’s a walk. Other days it’s stretching or Pilates. Movement isn’t punishment anymore—it’s nourishment. If my body wants to be still, I listen.

• Physical Therapies That Support Me: Pelvic floor therapy, acupuncture, castor oil packs, gentle yoga, magnesium baths—these are tools, not cures. But each one builds a layer of support that helps reduce pain and inflammation over time.

Healing my body hasn’t meant fixing it. It’s meant learning how to listen to it, respect it, and rebuild trust with it.

Part 2: Healing the Mind – Releasing Fear, Grief, and Pressure

Endo doesn’t just affect your body. It plays games with your mind. The fear of the next flare. The dread of being disbelieved. The pressure to be “normal.” The grief of losing time, energy, plans, or fertility.

For me, mental healing has been just as essential. Here’s what helped:

• Therapy (Specifically Trauma-Informed): Living with chronic pain is a form of trauma. I worked with a therapist who helped me process the emotional toll of medical gaslighting, relationship strain, and the grief of what endo had taken from me.

• Journaling Honestly: I began writing letters to my body. To my past selves. To the doctors who dismissed me. It wasn’t about venting—it was about reclaiming my voice.

• Letting Go of Comparison: Watching others live effortlessly can trigger grief. I’ve learned to see my path as sacred—even if it looks slower, messier, or smaller.

• Learning How to Rest Without Guilt: This was huge. Rest used to feel like weakness. Now it feels like strength. My nervous system needed rest more than it needed motivation.

Mental healing is about taking the pressure off. It’s about allowing the full range of feelings to exist—grief, rage, hope, joy—and letting them all have a seat at the table.

Part 3: Healing the Spirit – Reconnecting With What Can’t Be Touched

When you’re dealing with a condition that robs your sense of control, spiritual connection becomes an anchor.

For me, healing spiritually has looked like:

• Rebuilding a Relationship with God: Not the God I was taught to fear. The God who sees, hears, and comforts me in my rawest places. Endo didn’t make me less spiritual—it drew me closer to the divine.

• Finding Purpose in Pain: Not in a performative way. But in a gentle, redemptive way. I don’t believe I “had” to go through endo. But I do believe I get to choose what I build from it.

• Practices That Reconnect Me: Time in nature. Stillness. Music that moves me. Prayer. Breathwork. I return to my spirit when I do things that feel like home inside my body.

• Sharing My Story: When I use my voice to help another woman feel less alone, it reminds me that none of this is wasted.

Spiritual healing is the layer that reminds me: I am more than what’s happening to my body. I am whole even when I feel broken.

Three Things You Can Try Right Now

1. Body Scan Meditation
   Spend five minutes lying down and noticing each part of your body without judgment. Ask, “What do you need from me today?” This builds trust between your mind and body over time.

2. Create a Gentle Weekly Ritual
   One moment a week that’s just for you. A slow bath. A walk with no phone. A cup of tea in silence. Healing thrives in consistency, not intensity.

3. Speak This Over Yourself
   Look in the mirror and say: “I am not my diagnosis. I am not a burden. I am becoming something beautiful—even here.” It may feel awkward at first. But repetition births belief.

A New Definition of Healing

Healing doesn’t mean fixing. It doesn’t mean going back. It doesn’t mean living symptom-free forever.

Healing, to me, means reclaiming your voice. Listening inward instead of chasing outward. Making space for grief and joy. Holding compassion for who you’ve been, and hope for who you’re becoming.

It means living in alignment with what your body is asking for, not what the world expects of you.

You don’t have to do this perfectly. You don’t have to have all the answers. You don’t have to look like a wellness influencer to be healing.

You’re already doing it—every time you listen, soften, and show up anyway.

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You’re not alone. You’re not too much. And you’re not behind.

You are healing. —Tiffany

PS: If you haven’t gotten The Endometriosis Reset Guide yet, check it out here to start your journey.