What I felt deep in my body was something else entirely
When most people think about a serious health diagnosis, they expect fear. What I felt deep in my body was something else entirely: a desire for joy. I wanted a life I could never regret.
When I was diagnosed with Familial Hypercholesterolemia, I was searching for answers, a glimmer of hope. More than that, I was looking for meaning. I didn’t want to just survive or only rely on lab results. I wanted fullness, connection, presence, and joy because I knew that whatever this condition was, it wasn’t going to define who I am or how I show up in the world. If you want to learn more about FH you can read my recent blog post ” The Invisible Diagnosis that Changed Everything“.
For me, healing didn’t start with fear of what might happen. It started with a deep longing for more laughter, more movement, and more mornings that felt like peace. Choosing joy didn’t mean ignoring FH. I found joy in walking, in cycling, in feeling the sun on my skin and fresh air. I prepared meals that felt like self‑care, I slowed down, I protected my energy, and I built a rhythm in life that felt intentional.
When the Reality Hit
What I didn’t expect was the emotional toll I was going to experience. About two years in, the weight of everything is when I started to really understand what this meant for my future. I had tried several medications, and none of them brought my cholesterol numbers into what doctors call a “safe zone”. That’s when things started to feel real for me. Don’t get me wrong I knew this was serious, but this was the first time it felt like now I truly see what this is.
I still monitor my health, I still take my condition seriously, and I still face challenges. But joy has become the lens I chose to live through. FH is part of my story, but it’s not the only story I’m telling. The first article I ever read about FH talked in the first few paragraphs about heart attack and early death. It woke me up in a way I never expected. So what did I do differently? There are so many things I could share, but I’ll focus on the ones that had the biggest impact on how I truly live today.
Food is Medicine
There are moments in life when everything shifts, like a switch flipping on. For me, I didn’t want to wait for things to happen anymore, I wanted to cause them to happen. I wanted to create joy, not just hope for it. My inner wisdom wouldn’t let me sit back and wait for life to unfold. Honestly, I did a full 180 overnight.
I started with food. Cooking had never been something I enjoyed, but I made a commitment to learn. I signed up for a meal subscription service, which came with pre-portioned ingredients and simple instructions. It made the process easy, and for the first time, cooking felt accessible, even enjoyable. Now, I have my dream kitchen and still try new recipes each week.
Doctors often say diet doesn’t significantly impact FH. But that never resonated with me. How I feel in my body matters. Choosing to eat whole, nourishing foods, giving up alcohol, and preparing meals with intention became one of the most empowering ways I could care for myself. Food became medicine, cooking became self-care, and that was just the beginning.
Living Life Like It Matters
One of the biggest shifts I’ve made is not waiting for the perfect time, the perfect conditions, or the perfect plan. I say yes sooner, I book the trip, I take the walk, I buy the flowers, I take the class and try a new hobby. Because the truth is, we spend so much of life thinking we have more time.
This has taught me to live like life matters. Not in a dramatic or reckless way but in a present, intentional, heart-wide-open kind of way. I move slower, but with more meaning. I notice things: the quiet of the morning, how food smells when it’s cooking, the way my body feels when it’s moving.
I’ve stopped putting off joy for a future version of me. I let it in now, in small, daily moments. I say no to things that drain me and yes to what fills me up. That’s how I define healing now. Not fixing or controlling everything but paying attention to what actually makes life feel rich and real.
FH changed my life, yes. But it also revealed the parts of me that were ready to live more deeply.
Don’t be Afraid to Jump
There are moments in life when you’re presented with a choice that feels equal parts terrifying and exhilarating and saying yes becomes a declaration to truly live.
About a month after my diagnosis, my dad called me and said, “Do you want to go skydiving for my birthday?” He had always talked about it, but something about the timing made it feel different. I didn’t hesitate. “Let’s do it.”
It might sound crazy, but after everything I had just been through, the idea of jumping out of a plane didn’t scare me. If anything, it felt symbolic, a physical expression of what I had already been doing emotionally: letting go of fear, surrendering to the unknown, and choosing to live fully.
The experience itself was unforgettable. As the plane climbed higher, the reality of what we were doing started to set in. I screamed a few swear words out of pure excitement, and we both laughed. I remember looking back at my dad as I got closer to the edge, his face was pale, a mix of excitement and terror. Seeing his daughter about to jump out of a plane probably wasn’t what he imagined either. My legs dangled out of the plane, and the wind was rushing so fiercely that it felt like the world had gone completely quiet inside my head. And then we jumped.
The free fall was intense, fast, and overwhelming. I focused only on what I had been taught: keep your arms crossed, keep your neck straight. But the moment the parachute opened, everything changed.
It was peaceful, quiet, almost surreal. Floating above Snohomish farmland, the place I grew up, seeing the world from that view, it felt like coming home to myself. I had faced something that once would’ve seemed impossible, and I felt alive, grounded, and light all at once.
That day became more than just an adventure. It became a reminder that we can do hard things. That fear doesn’t have to stop us. That sometimes, jumping into the unknown is exactly what brings us back to life.
It’s a memory I will never forget, not just because I got to do it with my dad, but because of what it taught me: you can be scared and still say yes. You can be unsure and still take the leap, and sometimes what’s waiting on the other side is joy, freedom, and a version of yourself you didn’t know was possible.
A Picture Tells a Thousand Words
Say Yes to Yourself
There came a moment when I realized I needed more space to breathe, to think, to tune back into what I really wanted from life. I began journaling each day, writing down thoughts, questions, and dreams I had put on hold for too long. I made a list of the things I’d always wanted to do, not because of fear or urgency, but because I was finally listening to what I needed.
At the top of that list was to start a blog. I had no idea what I was doing, but I felt a pull to share. I learned how to build a website and created my brand, Cultivating Balance. Writing became a way to process, reflect, and connect, a healing practice that helped me share my voice. For a long time, I wrote about everything but FH. Not because I was avoiding it, but because I wanted to focus on other things.
That season of my life was filled with intentional decisions. I took time away and spent a month in North Carolina with my brother’s family and my dad. We shared meaningful moments, a snowy trip to Asheville, a roadtrip to Nashville. These weren’t just getaways, they were soul shifts.
After that, I took a solo trip to Charleston with no plan just a desire to explore and feel. That’s where I met a woman who reminded me how life-changing encouragement can be. She was a flower photographer and shared how she hosts workshops. I told her I was searching for ways to focus on flowers, I didn’t know exactly what it meant but I had always loved flowers. She encouraged me to follow that feeling and go for it.
That one moment of saying yes to myself opened up a new chapter in my life, becoming a flower photographer in the most authentic natural way.
What Keeps Me Grounded
Through all the shifts of this journey, what keeps me grounded is honoring what I need. It’s not something that came overnight, I’ve built it slowly, intentionally, through reflection and deep inner work. Taking the time to understand what brings me real joy, what soothes my nervous system, and what helps me return to myself when the noise of life or the weight of a diagnosis becomes overwhelming. Most importantly, it’s been about learning how to care for my mind, not just my body.
Early on in my diagnosis, I started meditating. I’m not even sure how or why it began I just remember feeling this strong inner pull that there was one key thing I needed to do: calm my mind. With a condition like FH, the fear can creep in quickly whether it’s reading alarming statistics, navigating unclear test results, or preparing for yet another doctor’s appointment. The mental toll is real, and I knew I needed something to protect my peace.
Meditation became that anchor for me. It has been my quiet medicine, something that doesn’t erase the reality, but allows me to meet it with clarity and calm. I’ve meditated before appointments, just to ground myself before hearing hard news. I’ve used it during anxious moments when I felt my thoughts spiraling. Meditation has helped me stay present and not get caught up in the “what ifs.” It reminds me that I’m still here. That I can handle whatever comes next.
Over time, I deepened my practice and eventually became a certified meditation teacher through the Deepak Chopra program. It opened my eyes to the science and the spirituality behind the practice and helped me understand not just how to meditate, but why it matters so much. Now, when I teach or guide others in stillness, it’s not from a place of expertise but from lived experience. Meditation has taught me that healing isn’t about fixing everything, it’s about staying present with what is.
Healing isn’t just physical it’s emotional, spiritual, and deeply mental. And in a world that moves fast and often expects us to be okay all the time, finding stillness has become one of the most compassionate things I can do for myself.
Created a Vision for My Life
I don’t feel the need to race against time or check boxes off a list. What I feel is something deeper. A pull to create a life that feels aligned, intentional, and completely mine. I’m living by a vision. One “yes” at a time, I shape a life rooted in presence, joy, and healing. It’s not about doing things before it’s too late, It’s about doing what feels right now.
I say yes to experiences that make me feel alive. Skydiving with my dad, traveling, enjoying slow mornings, cooking meals that feel like self-care. I follow what lights me up, not because I’m afraid, but because I’m fully awake.
This vision isn’t built in fear. It’s built in clarity. And that makes all the difference. You don’t need a life-altering moment to start living with purpose. You can begin any day, right where you are, by saying yes to what feels true for you. The sky is the limit, I’ve literally been up there, I know how far it stretches.
If it doesn’t scare you a little, are you really living? For me, the greater fear isn’t doing something bold. It’s looking back one day and realizing I never gave myself the chance to say yes to the things that set my soul on fire.
So if you take anything from this, let it be this. Find something that brings you joy today, even in the smallest ways. Ask yourself, what’s one small thing I can say yes to just for me?
The sky is the limit and I’ve literally been up there, so I know how far it stretches.
If it doesn’t scare you a little, are you really living? To me, the greater fear isn’t doing something bold it’s looking back one day and realizing I never allowed myself to say yes to the things that set my soul on fire. Against fear, against delay, against the idea that life after a diagnosis has to look like anything other than your own.
If you take anything from this, find something that brings you joy each day little bit little. Ask yourself “what’s one small thing you’ve said yes to recently?
Xo
