To the Woman Who Feels Like She’s Losing Her Life to Endo: A Letter
Dear Beautiful Woman,
I know what it feels like to watch your life get smaller and smaller around you. To count the days lost to pain. To cancel another plan, miss another event, call off another dream. I know the ache of asking, “Is this it now?”
Endometriosis doesn’t just live in the body—it weaves itself into every part of life. Your work. Your relationships. Your plans. Your identity. And when it flares, it’s not just physical—it’s emotional, spiritual, all-consuming.
I know what it’s like to feel like your body has become a stranger. Like you’re watching other women move forward while you stay stuck in place. Like you’re disappearing.
I’ve felt the anger, the resentment, the quiet envy. I’ve sat on the bathroom floor and cried over what felt like yet another thing this illness had taken from me. I’ve wondered if I’d ever get my life back. I’ve wondered what “my life” even means now.
And I want you to know—you’re not alone in those questions. They are not a sign of weakness. They are the honest, sacred cries of someone still fighting for herself.
This letter isn’t here to dismiss your pain with false positivity. I won’t pretend that a mindset shift can undo what’s been lost. You deserve more than that. You deserve tenderness. You deserve truth.
And the truth is this: losing pieces of the life you once imagined doesn’t mean you’ve lost yourself.
You are still here.
In the waiting. In the questions. In the stretching and surrender. In the quiet moments no one sees. You are still here. And your presence in the midst of it all—that matters more than words can say.
There is a quiet strength in you that no one can measure. A grace that softens even the hardest hours. A beauty that endo cannot diminish.
This illness may have taken days and plans and energy, but it cannot take your essence. It cannot touch the sacred core of who you are.
You’re allowed to grieve, deeply and fully. You’re allowed to feel the ache of missing what used to be yours. You’re allowed to long for more. None of that means you’ve failed—it means you’re human.
You are not too much. You are not behind. You are not alone.
You are on a path of profound courage, even if it feels invisible to others. And that path, however unchosen, is still holy.
If no one has said it recently: I see your endurance. I see your heart. I honor your presence.
This is not the end of your story. Even if it’s not the chapter you hoped for.
Take this letter and read it when the silence feels deafening. When the days blur together. When it feels like life is passing you by. Let it be a hand on your back, a voice that whispers, “You’re not forgotten. You’re not failing. You are still becoming.”
You are not defined by what endo has taken. You are defined by what still lives in you:
Gentleness
Fire
Resilience
Faith
And most of all—by the fact that you are still here, still choosing to live with honesty, softness, and strength.
With all my heart, Tiffany
→ Want to start your journey with me? Get The Endometriosis Reset Guide to start now.