Marie Claire: What was the final straw that made you decide to flee your country?

Yusra Mardini: To be honest with you, there was not like one specific event. It just wasn’t safe to live in Syria. We lost our home, two years into the war, and started renting apartments, which became very expensive, and we had to move every three months. My father left to be a swim coach in Jordan where the pay would be better. The Olympic pool I was training in was also targeted all the time because it was seen as a military base. One time I had to hide under my desk in the school. It just wasn’t safe. The bombs would fall randomly. Like, you’d be walking and then a bomb would just fall and you would just stand to the side, wait for everything to quiet down, and keep on walking like nothing even happened. It became so normal, which is horrible. One day, my sister and I were just talking in our shared bedroom and we just decided, it’s time to leave. We found someone our parents could trust, my dad’s cousin, and they let us go.

MC: What is the thing that you remember most from your journey as a refugee?

YM: Probably the fact that we were looked at as criminals. Unfortunately a lot of people were scared of us; didn’t believe that the money we were holding was real—as if being a refugee means you have nothing. I was also always scared when we had to put our trust in smugglers because of all the stories about trafficking. That was terrifying, as was being separated from my sister for part of the journey. As long as I was with her, I felt safe. But in the end, we trusted, and we wanted to help, and it turned out all right. You know, there’s always good and bad in the world, no matter where you are, no matter who you are. I met so many incredible people. For example, Hungary was one of the worst points for us as refugees, but even there some people were trying to help us. When I got to Greece, I remember trying to buy something at a restaurant and they didn’t want to serve us. And there was a young girl who just came and gave me shoes, and gave a little boy a hoodie, and took us to her home to drink water. There’s always good, wherever you go.

MC: And now you’re trying to do good in the world. Tell us about your foundation.

YM: It was launched June 20, last year’s World Refugee Day, and it focuses on helping refugees worldwide through education and sports. Sports and education helped me personally get where I am today, and now I just want to give back. I feel like I have the power to offer the same opportunity to young refugees around the world.

I recently just came back from Kenya, where I saw so many incredible programs that are teaching some refugees in the camp how to become directors and producers and football and basketball players. It was just incredible to see that even in these really, really hard circumstances, they are still trying to pursue their dreams through education and sports.

So my goal is to give as many refugees around the world the possibility to pursue their dreams. We now have programs in Kenya, France, and Greece.

MC: Speaking of sports, tell us about competing in the Olympics with the Refugee team?

YM: The team came together when the International Olympic Committee and the UNHCR, the UN Refugee Agency, came together and decided that there should be a team because there were many athletes reaching out that had no team, professional athletes who, because of war and displacement, didn’t have a passport. I was one of the 10 members of this first team for the Rio Olympics. I was 18 at the time, and I’m still in touch with a lot of the athletes. In the beginning, it was hard for me. I didn’t want to be called a refugee.

Of course, I understood that I was one, but I didn’t want to be known worldwide for it. It took me a while to be okay with that. But in the end, I understood that a lot of people would be looking up to us, a lot refugees would be watching from refugee camps. We realized that our responsibility was way bigger than any of the other athletes.

When I entered the stadium for the opening ceremony, I felt: It’s not just your dream anymore. It’s about changing something. It’s about proving that, yes, you can go through so many difficult things in life, you don’t necessarily get the life you had dreamed of, but you can still do great things. For Tokyo, I had qualified to be in the Syrian team, but I decided to stay with the refugee team.

MC: And what message do you want to share now?

YM: For young people, I just want them to understand that even if we imagine that our life will go a certain way, it doesn’t always turn out like that. We have to be flexible, and we have to step back, not give up, and try again tomorrow, or try something different. For the rest of the world, never forget the humanity of refugees. And for sports fans, support the refugee team and follow my commentary on Eurosport this summer.

Fast? Undoubtedly. So speedy, in fact, that with under a mile to go in the race, she was in the lead pack, instilling hope with each stride in both her fans and individuals watching the telecast that 2024 would be the year D’Amato added Olympian to her resumé.

D'Amato didn't make the team. She did, however, laugh at comments insinuating she’s old enough to be 21-year-old competitor Parker Valby’s mom, the recent University of Florida graduate who took second place.

“It’s not the norm for women my age to be competing at this level. I think because it’s not the norm, more people haven’t tried,” D’Amato tells me. “Experiencing life has taught me lessons that I apply to sport in a way I couldn’t have in my early twenties. I’m sharper, more confident, competitive, capable, and disciplined [than I’ve ever been]. Yeah, it takes a little bit more time to recover, but I'm running the fastest times that I've ever run in my life.”

D’Amato is part of a growing number of athletes who are aging up. Come August, three-time Olympic medalist and two-time 100-meter champion Shelly-Ann Fraser-Pryce, 37, will run alongside women who are 13 years (or more) her junior, including 24-year-old Sha’Carri Richardson. Basketballer Diana Taurasi is currently the oldest player in the WNBA at 42, already has five Olympic gold medals, and is looking to add one more as a part of Team USA this summer. At 67, Julie Holt is a five-time CrossFit Games masters athlete with two wins under her belt, with a deadlift around 265 pounds and a back squat sitting at 250.

In the U.S. Swim Olympic Trials earlier this summer, 46-year-old, two-time Olympian Gabrielle Rose swam a personal lifetime best of 1:08:32 in the 100-meter breaststroke and was the oldest out of over 1,000 athletes competing in the event, surpassing swimmers who were half her age. Afterward, she told reporters, “I’m just hoping to show people you can do more. I want women in particular to know they can have a lot more in the older chapters of their lives.”

At 40, Des Linden—2018 Boston Marathon Champion—isn’t hanging up her kicks anytime soon, either. Linden’s competed in the race for the past four years, and has no plans on stopping. “The mindset that 40 is a masters athlete and signifies retirement, we’re seeing a shift,” Linden says.

That athletes are challenging what’s considered “old” can, in part, be attributed to what’s happening culturally. Women are redefining the narratives around aging as a whole, including delaying both marriage and motherhood, according to the CDC.

But also, women are choosing to compete for longer because they can. We’re seeing more and more examples of athletes winning, long past what is considered their “prime,” like D’Amato, Taurasi, and Fraser-Pryce.

In looking at the numbers, there’s been a steady increase in peak performance ages of female Olympic medalists—but not in male—as seen in 114 years of data spanning from the first Olympics in 1898 through 2014. Barriers that once forced women out of sports in a way that men don’t have to deal with, like childbirth, are no longer an end-all to athletic prowess, as seen with greats including Serena Williams and Allyson Felix.

It also helps that women are better supported. While historically, some saw athletes as disposable bodies once they hit 30 (or even younger), more coaches and programs are now aligned with athletes focusing on their physical, emotional, and mental health. That evolution coming on the heels of female athletes using their own platforms to speak out about the need to prioritize their well-being.

Dawn Scott, vice president of performance and innovation for the Washington Spirit women’s soccer team, has been working with high-level female professional soccer athletes for the past 20 years, including big names like Ali Krieger and Megan Rapinoe. “Krieger was in some of the best shape of her life in 2019,” Scott says. “And then up until she retired, she was playing every single game for Gotham. There’s a lot of reasoning for that, but it mostly comes down to the individual and how they look after their own body.”

Much of this is possible because of the money that’s being funneled into women’s sports, too. “The way that we're traveling and being treated, the accommodations, the resources that we have, the investment that we have, it all makes a difference in the longevity of an athlete,” says Krieger, 39. “We're able to now really put ourselves first and prioritize our health, both mentally and physically.”

That investment flows in from a number of companies, including big names like Ally Financial, Budweiser, Glossier, Gatorade, and Morgan Stanley. The financial backing being used on everything from bringing in emerging technology and experts to the intangible things that equally impact an athlete’s performance, like better salaries and stadiums.

Of course, staying in the game is bigger than dollars and physical ability. For so many pros, sports have been a part of their lives from a young age, and being an athlete is ingrained in their identity. While researchers have found that developing a strong athletic identity can be beneficial in driving motivation and performance, the associated cost is that its loss is felt deeply when an athlete exits their profession.

“When you think about it, you dedicate your whole life to being the best athlete that you can be, and then for most—if they’re lucky—they only get to do it until they’re 30,” says three-time Olympian Sanya Richards-Ross, who retired competitively from sport after the 2016 Olympics. Richards-Ross, who’s been a Nike athlete for the past 20 years, credits the support of her community as well as a regular prayer practice with helping her adjust out of sport.

In the weeks leading up to her final race, Richards-Ross repeated the following: “Thank you for this gift of track and field, and for all the ways that it’s blessed my life. But I know every blessing is not meant to last a lifetime. And so, I ask you to leave me with all of the good things, all of the lessons, all of my experiences, so I can use it for the next thing.”

The next thing can be super intimidating for many. “Ending an athletic career is a lot like putting your dog down,” Linden says. “Like you make the choice, you don't want to do it too early, but you don't want to do it when you're suffering and miserable. It’s this weird thing, and I always think of it that way.”

While everyone will have to hang up their uniform at some point, that women are ultimately deciding when is the real win. “My goals are very different now,” Linden says. “I don’t expect to be at the front of the Boston Marathon fighting for the win over the last three miles anymore. But, at the same time…it’s fun to disrupt some people that I shouldn’t be beating.”

D’Amato, who will be 40 in October, agrees. “[Older women] are capable of so much more, and there’s no reason to limit what we can do. I'm really proud to be one of those women pushing the limit to show us all what we're capable of.”

I’m a little embarrassed to admit this, but I’m easily influenced. It doesn’t take much for me to jump on the bandwagon of the latest TikTok-viral thing. This mentality has led to some great finds, like my new favorite walking shoes from Rothy’s and my favorite drugstore mascara, but it’s also led to some not-so-great purchases, like that viral thermal brush that ripped out my hair (IYKYK. But a recent TikTok-made-me-do-it buy—the Sunny Health & Fitness Mini Stepper—ranks among my all-time favorites.

As someone who works out at least five times a week, I’ve never struggled to keep a fitness routine. What I do struggle with is getting in movement the rest of the day. Some days, especially when I work from home, I'm glued to my desk chair for a solid eight hours. These are the days when I’ll look at my Oura Ring stats, see I’ve only hit 5,000 steps or so, and feel guilty. We’ve all heard that sitting is a “silent killer,” and it’s true: Too much sedentary time increases the risk of cardiovascular disease, diabetes, and death, per the American Heart Association. So when I saw the Sunny Mini Stepper blow up on my FYP, a lightbulb went off in my head.

The Sunny Health & Fitness Mini Stepper is essentially a miniature StairMaster: you push the pedals up and down to simulate the same motion as climbing steps. You can also use a dial to change the resistance. But at just 16-by-12 inches and weighing in at 15 pounds, it's much more compact than a StairMaster, making it as easy as can be to move and store. It comes with removable resistance bands so you can get your whole body involved, plus an LED screen that tracks your steps, calories burned, and time spent working out.

I’ve had this stepper in my fitness arsenal for six months now, and I use it all the time. If I’m tempted to mindlessly scroll through TikTok, I’ll hop on my stepper. Finishing an episode of a TV show or a chapter on my Kindle Paperwhite? You can bet I’ll be stepping away. On particularly early mornings when I’m up before the sun, I’ll use my stepper to warm up before my workout. I’ll even pull it out when I need a quick boost of energy during long days of work.

It doesn't get my heart pumping like a HIIT workout, but this stepper does make me break a sweat in as little as 10 minutes. It has the intensity of an uphill walk, but I can dial it up a notch (literally) when the mood strikes, or go nice and easy when I’m not in the mood for a sweaty workout. Sometimes, I won’t even bother with workout clothes and sneakers—I’ll just get to stepping in whatever it is I have on that day. The stepper’s accessibility is what makes this a real game-changer in my eyes: its compact size means I can keep it under my bed and easily pull it out whenever I feel like it. While I can’t always go on a walk because of the weather or time of day, I can always use my stepper.

The one drawback? It does require balance. The pedals are wide enough to be stable, but it takes time to learn how to push them and to get comfortable with the machine’s movements. By now, I've had plenty of practice and can now play on my Nintendo Switch while stepping without losing my balance—but if your balance isn’t great, take your time and work your way up to multitasking. At $60, it's a relatively affordable purchase, and a no-brainer way to meet your movement goals.

On Her Morning Routine

"When my phone alarm rings at 6 a.m. from my kitchen counter, I pad over from my bedroom to grab my phone and lie back in my warm bed to start my day with my morning visualization and breathwork ritual. Feeling cozy while envisioning my best self and taking energizing breaths is my first act of balancing mindset work with self-compassion. The audio wakes me up gently, stops me from hitting snooze, and reminds me to find joy in all the little moments throughout the day, rooting me in gratitude and good energy. As the meditations wrap up, I convince myself to get out of bed. I cue up my favorite yoga teacher's morning playlist and start my skincare ritual. I keep it simple with three intentional products: an ayurvedic vitamin C serum, an eye gel, and sunscreen. Padding over to the kitchen with a freshly glazed face, I take my vitamins, make breakfast, and drink my first cup of coffee. At this point, I can see the sun rising over the turquoise blues of the Pacific, and I bring my food and coffee over to my dining nook to journal. I'm deeply passionate about the mindfulness practices that bookend my day, helping me stay organized for all the ways I want to show up across my life." — Rikhi Roy, Digital Creator

On Her Bodycare Routine

"Having a midday workout and shower ritual is a great way to reenergize and focus. I use The Honey Pot Prebiotic Wipes to wipe my face right after the gym. I love the refreshing feeling of wiping away impurities with just a few gentle swipes across my face. The convenience of these wipes makes my post-workout refresh seamless no matter where I am. When I get home, I use the Grapefruit Ylang Ylang Hydrating Herbal-Infused Body Cleanser and Prebiotic Foaming Wash. The body cleanser smells so good and energizing, and it's pH-balanced. Your skin feels really soft and nourished post-shower. It helps me feel reenergized to continue showing up purposefully for the rest of my day. The Prebiotic Foaming Wash's lather is airy and indulgent. Beyond how wonderful it feels, I adore that this dermatologist- and gynecologist-approved formula is crafted with intentional, prebiotic-infused care for my body's needs. It's a daily reminder to nurture myself inside and out." — Roy

On Her Wellness Journey

"My wellness journey began during my aerospace engineering studies and deepened in graduate school. It started with a simple meditation practice that became a beloved morning and evening ritual. Over time, I layered on journaling, life coaching, and therapy to learn how to thrive in academically challenging environments. This allowed me to speak at places like Yale, MIT, and NASA on the power of introspection for meaningful self-expression. Sharing my story as a bubbly engineer who loves fashion magazines and technical research alike taught me that vulnerability is a strength for deeper connections. Embracing my full self with humility and authenticity is an act of resilience for living a purpose-driven life. Today, my holistic wellness practices empower me to show up wholeheartedly as a content creator, podcaster, and engineer. I value intentional movement, financial wellness, and thoughtful bodycare rituals by using better-for-you products." — Roy

On Her Work-Life Balance

"I start work at 8 a.m. Showing up authentically with warmth and bubbliness in my aerospace engineering job has created profound shifts in my sense of self. Working remotely in an area I'm deeply passionate about means I get to work in my coziest or most fashion-forward outfits depending on how I'm feeling that day. I typically wear athleisure in the morning, get my steps in on my under-the-desk treadmill, head to the gym midday, and then change into cozy, elevated basics to work from my standing desk. Doing purpose-driven work in a field where I am underrepresented comes with unique challenges, and building joyful routines keeps me encouraged, motivated to 'pass it forward,' and make the most of the opportunities paved by those who have gone before me. I hope to inspire others to unapologetically create fulfilling lifestyles that integrate passion and purpose without burnout. After finishing work for the day, it's all about intentional social recalibration. My evenings are for self-nurturing through passion projects, volunteering, or quality TV alongside a delicious, nourishing bowl, candles, and sparkling water in a wine glass. I end my evenings journaling about my wins, gratitudes, and tomorrow's aspirations." — Roy

On Her 2024 Wellness Goals

"This year, my aim is to cultivate deep self-belief in areas where I've previously doubted myself. The key is consistency in action. I've been diligently committed to morning and evening facial skincare routines and using The Honey Pot's bodycare line midday. These intentional self-care habits have had a beautiful ripple effect, encouraging consistent sleep, balanced nutrition, regular movement, and a disciplined content-creation schedule. It's particularly meaningful to incorporate The Honey Pot because the brand's founder echoes the importance of vulnerability, balance, and reclaiming wellness. The brand's plant-derived products elevate my daily routines, and it represents collective wellness as the largest Black-founded brand at Target." — Roy

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I expected some heavy panting, but I didn't expect to experience a major development in the bond I have with my co-workers. Because I had the Merrell hiking shoes on, I knew it was the right choice in my journey uphill. I was also lucky enough to be accompanied by my work BFF and the leader of our team, Caitie Schlisserman, with whom I have worked side by side since 2015. Unplugging from our laptops and Slack messages opened up time for us to connect and talk about our journey together, one that's deeply rooted in mutual respect for one another and filled with a myriad of inside jokes. (Caitie, if you're reading this, all I'm going to say is, "Wall Street.") We met in our mid-20s and over the last decade have supported each other in developing our careers, getting married, buying homes, and starting families—we have a lot to be proud of in our relationship.

During the hike, we were prompted to think of our origin stories—where we come from, our core values, etc.—but I wanted to focus on the origin of our friendship and how it's developed over time. As Caitie locked arms with me to help me climb the proverbial mountain, I decided to ask her a few questions.

Nayiri Mampourian: I want to hear your perspective on our origin story. What do you remember about the first day we met, and how do you think that impacts our friendship today?

Caitie Schlisserman: I remember you turned to me while driving and said, "Where have you been all my life?" after realizing how much we had in common. At that moment, I knew our friendship would go far beyond the office. We've not only progressed in our careers together but also grown up together and supported each other through some of the most important moments of our lives. It's sisterhood at its finest.

NM: What do you think is the number-one ingredient for success in your female friendships, and how has it impacted our relationship?

CS: Emotional transparency. I think it's so important in female friendships to speak openly about how we feel without judgment. Because we're so close, we can be brutally honest with each other without damaging our relationship. There have been times when I've called you out because I felt you were getting in your own way, and it was emotional and upsetting in the moment but in the end made our bond closer.

NM: What's your favorite memory of us?

CS: Man, there are so many. But two weeks after you had Sophie, you came to meet me for lunch, and I was so impressed that you were brave enough to venture out on your own with a newborn. I remember thinking how much I wanted to be like you when I had kids of my own.

NM: How did this hike make you feel about taking time to connect with everyone?

CS: I know how important connection is, and nothing compares to connecting with people while being outside. It's refreshing and uplifting, and it's such a nice way to start the day.

As women, we're expected to wear many, many hats, but arguably, the most important one is the role we play with our best friends and the co-workers we create magic with. We have to support each other to continue this unstoppable sorority we're creating for generations after us. And for the record, I believe Caitie and I were put in each other's lives for a reason bigger than the two of us. When I asked her where she'd been all my life, I meant it.

Shop Our Shoes

Alfieri sat down with our editor-in-chief at Power Play 2024 to chat about The Honey Pot and the role that ambition plays in customer experience and product development. The company just launched an herbal-infused, hydrating body cleanser (it's currently in my cart), which is a huge win in a highly saturated market. "We're taking those core tenets from feminine care and understanding what matters for our consumers, such as better-for-you ingredients and a brand that is connected to them and launching into this category," she says. What Alfieri referred to as "an itty-bitty brand four years ago" has catapulted into a must-have brand that you can't ignore in the bodycare aisle. There's something really special about finding brands that are committed to creating wellness-first products and educating people about how to better care for themselves. I perused The Honey Pot site and managed to get distracted by the cute branding and funny wordplay, but I also found 15 products that I think will be game changers for you below.

Daily-Use Products

Sexual Wellness Products

Menstrual Products

Co-founders Alex Taylor and Victoria Thain Gioia found themselves asking similar questions during and after their pregnancies. Startled by the lack of research and regulation in the prenatal vitamin industry and its one-size-fits-all approach to women's prenatal nutrition, they teamed up to create their own supplement company, Perelel, to address the industry's many disparities.

Today, Perelel offers supplements and vitamin routines for women in many different stages of life, but it's not stopping there. The company has pledged $10 million to women's healthcare research to help close the research gap and provide more access to essential reproductive care.

I had no idea how critical this situation was until I heard Taylor and Gioia discussing it during their panel at Power Play in Los Angeles earlier this week. The statistics are, frankly, shocking.

"Women have been omitted from clinical trials from the late 1970s until the late '90s, and even as recently as a study in 2009. Women are still severely underrepresented in medical studies," Taylor said during the panel. "Most of what we know is based on trials done on white men."

Make it make sense—because it sure doesn't to me.

When Marie Claire editor-in-chief Nikki Ogunnaike asked the two women why they decided to take on this ambitious challenge, their answer was clear: "Women make up half the population, but we give birth to 100% of the future."

Women's healthcare is vital, and creating a product that meets a woman at every stage in her life is an obvious step in tackling the gender research gap if you ask me. But Perelel's commitment extends beyond supplements. The company has committed a portion of its pledge to the Magee-Women's Research Institute to further advance reproductive research, and it's partnered with the Good+Foundation to donate over $2.5 million worth of vitamins to women in underresourced communities.

I'm a mother to a daughter, the daughter of a woman who struggled through menopause, and a friend of so many incredible women who have dealt with fertility issues. I care deeply about the issues Gioia and Taylor discussed during their inspiring panel, but the research gap is something we all should strive to close. As the founders of Perelel said, "We give birth to 100% of the future."

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It’s vital to remember that mental healthcare is healthcare, and there’s no shame in asking for help when you need it, whether that means talking to a loved one or seeking therapy. Being vulnerable can be extremely difficult, and the process of finding a therapist can often make it more difficult. But there are organizations out there working to make mental healthcare more accessible, most notably BetterHelp. With 32,000 licensed therapists, the health app has facilitated over 350 million therapy sessions and connected over four million people with therapists—all while creating an environment where people feel comfortable to speak freely about their mental health. 

If the thought of seeking therapy is scary and overwhelming to you, you aren’t alone—one in four Americans has reported symptoms of anxiety or depression. Luckily, BetterHelp’s top priority is to connect you with a therapist who will support your specific concerns, taking the burden of finding the right therapist off of your plate.  Right now, BetterHelp is offering Marie Claire readers 25% off their first month (up to $70 in savings). The process is super simple: Fill out a brief questionnaire in order to get matched with a licensed therapist in as little as 48 hours. The app is designed to work around your schedule, with a personalization portal that helps you schedule weekly live sessions with your therapist and log your progress. 

At Marie Claire, we believe that taking care of your mental health is the key to living a happy and healthy life, and a conversation with the right person is the best place to start. 

I have a deep-rooted hatred for working out—always have. I strongly dislike getting ready for a workout (it’s a whole production), I actively despise sweating (RIP blowout), and quite frankly, I feel just fine, albeit in need of a shower, after the fact. It’s always been a chore that I would gladly neglect for weeks or even months at a time. Sure, I went through a SoulCycle phase in college, and I credit Melissa Wood Health exclusively for my sanity during the height of the pandemic. But overall I’ve never really been a fitness devotee or stuck to any form of a regimen. I maintain a healthy diet and walk everywhere, but getting my heart rate up has quite frankly just happened when it's happened. Am I proud of that? Absolutely not, but I’m writing this under the premise that honesty is the best policy—so don’t judge.  

But we’re here because my outlook on working out changed. The question you’re asking: How? Why? Allow me to take you back in time. January 2023 to be exact. All of my friends decided to get on the New Year’s resolution bandwagon and hand over $89 a month for ClassPass, a platform that partners with workout classes and studios to offer subscribers a discounted monthly membership in their area. 

Personally, I thought they were going through a ~phase~ and I was willing to die on the hill that paying to exercise was, excuse my language, a load of crap. YouTube has videos! MWH is $10 a month! Go for a run! Still, their ~phase~ persisted. They went to classes together and discussed ad nauseam how they planned to allocate their 43 monthly credits. (The primary subscription offers 43 credits per month, with most of the coveted classes between seven to 14 credits.)

Eventually, I caved. Chalk it up to jealousy or the momentary dedication to get toned for summer, but I signed myself up for ClassPass. I could be cheesy and say that I never looked back. But in reality? I eased into it—one class a weekend. I went to BK Pilates with my friends on a random Saturday afternoon. I begged my ClassPass friends to accompany me to a Taylor Swift Reputation X Lover SoulCycle ride (Eras Tour, here I come). I  somehow even let my old college roommate swindle me into doing a dance cardio class. For the record: I have negative rhythm and/or coordination. I reached a point where doing a class was more of a social interaction than an actual workout. 

As time went on, I found myself scrolling through the depths of the ClassPass app—exploring niche offerings. To my surprise, I was able to book massages (shout out Body Roll Studio), could get a manicure at Glosslab (just four credits, you guys!), or even book a personal training session. The opportunities? Endless. I slowly but surely got more daring with my selections. A solo Sunday evening acupuncture became my weekly reset ritual. I went rogue and signed myself up for whole body cryotherapy, aka standing in a freezing cold chamber. I embraced the credit allotment game.

I also decided to sign up for a boxing-meets-self-defense class. I took karate for years when I was younger (green belt at your service), and have always regretted giving it up. My flying front kick is by no means what it used to be, but something about exercising that skill, that once upon a time I loved so much, allowed a flip to switch in my head. I realized that these classes, treatments, whatever they may be, were actually just time set aside for me, myself, and I. They weren’t related to work, weren't social obligations I secretly dreaded, and, perhaps most notably, they doubled as a nice 45-minute slot of phone-free time. 

It was at this point that I started viewing my subscription differently. Putting time on my calendar for a class is now my top priority for the week—I schedule my life around it. It doesn't matter if I’m breaking a sweat or laying down like a bum during a massage, ClassPass has become my built-in excuse to just take a beat and a breather from everyday life. It’s become my back-to-center, pressure-free, me time. I’ve circled back on old hobbies, seen my friends more on weekdays than I ever thought possible, and, from a more literal perspective, am stronger than I’ve been in a long time. I'm able to approach my other responsibilities with a clearer head and am more thoughtful in how I spend my time. But most importantly, I no longer look at working out as a chore. I’ve actually come to cherish the time I dedicate to exercise—even if it messes with my hair washing schedule. 

Call me a cliché, but every year, come January, I get reignited to work on my health. Sure, maybe I fall into the wellness-kick marketing trap that every retailer puts out in the new year, but nonetheless, I always take the time to consider my goals for the year and what it would take to achieve them.

It was during this period of reflection that I realized something wasn’t clicking with what I was doing health-wise. So I got sucked into an internet rabbit hole, researching all the latest health supplements, gadgets, and programs, before I eventually discovered the Oura Ring. But before I get into my review of the small, but mighty health tracker, let me take you through exactly what led to my discovery. 

I’d like to think that on paper, I’m a pretty healthy girl. I work out every morning to get my day started, I drink lots of water, and I try to get away from my desk every once in a while. Plus, I eat most meals at home and tend to get in at least 8,000 steps a day. But even with these habits, I still wasn’t feeling healthy. Some days, I felt ready to take on the day during the morning hours, but was dozing off at my desk by 3 p.m. Other days, I felt so sore and groggy that just getting out of bed was a struggle. All in all, I knew something was keeping me from feeling like my best self. Maybe I wasn’t getting enough sleep, or maybe I wasn’t letting my body recover from the gym. Whatever the case, I was on a mission to find out. 

After doing some digging, I came across a ring seen on the likes of Kim Kardashian, Jennifer Aniston, and Gwyneth Paltrow that wasn’t just any ol' piece of jewelry—it was actually a fitness tracker called the Oura Ring, which prides itself on its accuracy. Built with tiny sensors and accompanied by an app, this ring measures different health metrics, from resting heart rate to body temperature and more, to provide you with a set of three daily scores: sleep, activity, and readiness. Over time, the ring starts to learn your body and its patterns and provides actionable advice on how to improve your health. I thought that this little gadget might finally reveal the missing link to reaching my goals, so I had to test it out for myself. 

Well, after a little over a month of wearing the ring day in and day out, I can definitely say I’ve learned a lot about my body. 

Let me first go into the ring’s sleep function: I thought I was OK in the sleep department. I average just under seven hours of shut-eye a night, which, compared to some of my friends, is fantastic. However, according to the Oura Ring, I wasn’t getting enough sleep to recover from my workouts. It then set a bedtime frame for my optimal amount of sleep, taking into consideration my average wake-up time. Lo and behold, on days when I'm able to fall asleep during Oura's suggested time frame, I wake up feeling like a million bucks and stay alert throughout the day. No joke. 

Another aspect of the Oura Ring that's changed my lifestyle is the gadget's readiness score. Every day you wear your ring, it provides you with a score, scaling from one to 100, that reveals how “ready” you are to take on the day, based on the activity and sleep you logged the day before. I ignored this score one fateful day, and, let me tell you, I’ll never do it again. I'd woken up feeling a bit tired, but thought, nothing out of the ordinary—then saw that I had a readiness score in the forties. Did I let that deter me from my morning workout? Of course not! Flash forward an hour later, and I found myself struggling to finish my workout because my body felt so achy and congested. As it turns out, I'd spent the previous night tossing and turning in bed. My body had come down with a cold, but I hadn't realized it yet. I was amazed that this ring knew me better than I knew myself, and now I check my readiness score each day as though it were the morning news.

The third aspect of the Oura Ring that stands out is its activity meter. While I find it has the tendency to over-inflate the number of steps I take, I love Oura’s activity notifications. I’ve heard that sitting still is the new smoking, and working a desk job for eight hours a day means that I’m doing a lot of it. Oura reminds me to move when I’ve been sitting for an especially long time, and these little nudges always manage to get me out of my chair. 

Plus, the Oura Ring provides so much more than just those three features. The ring also unlocks access to an in-app library of guided meditations for sleep and relaxation, plus tons of guides on various health topics, all of which make for quick, interesting reads. And for a monthly subscription of $5.99, you can access even more content, including in-depth features like sleep charts and period prediction. Given that $5.99 is the price of most people’s coffee order, I'd say it's pretty worthwhile.

As far as fitness trackers go, the ring is also a huge winner in terms of style. I’m not a big ring girl, but I do wear my grandmother’s gold wedding rings every day, and I’m pleasantly surprised by how well the Gold Horizon style fits in. Worn on my index finger, it looks like a statement piece, and is so much more chic than those bulky fitness trackers that instantly kill outfits.

Of course, the Oura Ring is by no means the end-all-be-all to solving your health woes. But it does make you more conscious of your body’s natural patterns. After some wear, you’ll learn when to go to bed, when to take it easy, and when to get up and move—all of which help you feel your best. I myself have learned all of these things from the Oura ring, and while I don’t feel 100 percent every single day, I definitely feel like it more often than I used to. Nowadays, you can catch me checking the Oura app every morning to see how ready I am for the day. Plus, you'll always be able to spot me by the smooth gold ring on my finger. 

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“Milk has had a long history of supporting athletes—in some ways we say we’re the OG sports drink, because we’ve been supporting athletes for 7,000 years,” says Rani. “But it was amazing for me to discover that only 7 percent of global sports sponsorships go to female athletes—7 percent of a $30 billion pool. They put in the same effort, they have to run 26.2 miles just like everybody else, but their odds of being sponsored by a major brand or any financial sponsorship is much lower. We really wanted to support their journey.”

Through 26.2, everyone who identifies as a woman that will be running the next NYC Marathon is invited to join #TeamMilk and be a part of something big. Running with #TeamMilk means getting world class training advice from the pros, essential gear for race day, and support in post-race recovery. Plus, it gives runners the chance to connect with other women in the #TeamMilk community, who will be cheering each other on during the race. 

But what makes 26.2 really special is that every woman who joins #TeamMilk will see their registration fee matched—up to $600,000—in aid of Girls on the Run, a nonprofit that offers athletic youth development programming to girls of all backgrounds and abilities. 26.2 isn’t just supporting the women who will be out there on race day, but ensuring that girls everywhere are equipped with the resources they need to succeed in the future. “As we know, running the marathon isn’t something where you just show up and do it,” says Rani. “We want to use our dollars to shine a light on them, feature them in our advertising, and then additionally help encourage young runners through our donation to Girls on the Run.”

The opportunity to support women inspires Rani, both in her personal life and as MilkPEP’s CEO.  As a mother and an advocate for the Asian American Pacific Islander (AAPI) community, Rani is keenly aware of how important it is for girls to see other women in positions of leadership. “When I would speak at events, invariably at every single event there would be a young Asian American woman or two that would come up to me after and say, ‘It’s so amazing to see someone like you,’” she says. “I just started to feel like I had to do something to help those young women—be more of a role model and be more active.” 

Her efforts to get involved ramped up during the pandemic, which saw a spike in racism toward the AAPI community. Rani joined a group of senior Asian American marketing professionals, who not only provide mentorship to the next generation but form a support system for one another as well. “For me, an empowered community has been super helpful. I always encourage people to find a community they can attach to, [like] this group I joined during the pandemic,” says Rani. “I always say about it—and it’s a little heartbreaking in some ways—that I didn’t realize I was lonely until I wasn’t alone anymore.” 

That multigenerational support is also why choosing the 26.2 Program to sponsor Girls on the Run was a natural fit. “Girls fall out of sports,” says Rani. “More and more of them fall out of it younger and younger, and by high school the drop-off is really very frightening compared to boys, for all kinds of reasons. So every little bit we can do to keep a girl active and athletic in whatever she chooses to be is just good for mankind, frankly.” 

And like the runners who inspire her, Rani is no stranger to a challenge. As the CEO of MilkPEP, Rani is propelling the complex and dynamic milk industry forward by speaking to what modern moms like her actually care about. Rani recognized that milk’s immune system boosting properties, its ability to hydrate better than water, and its essential nutrients,   could position it as the ideal performance beverage. Plus, the learning experience that has come from her work in a once-unfamiliar industry has been a fulfilling journey all its own. “I was super impressed with the people I met in the milk business,” she says. “I’m a total city girl—I’m from Singapore, I lived in New York City. I am not from the agricultural sector at all. And I was just so amazed by the farmers and the milk companies themselves, what good people they were, trying to do the right thing by the customer and the stakeholder. This was the kind of environment I wanted to operate in.” 

From there, it was clear to Rani that the NYC Marathon was the perfect place for MilkPEP to showcase their commitment to supporting and empowering women now and in the next generation. “We really believe in action—not just ads,” she says. “It’s been a nice additional layer to some really powerful advertising to help an organization like Girls on the Run that is changing young girl’s lives.”

To learn more about MilkPEP’s 26.2 initiative and to join #TeamMilk visit gonnaneedmilk.com/26.2 and visit their Facebook. 

“You’ve locked the door,” my friend said patiently, already halfway down the stairs of my building. “And all the burners are off, and the iron is unplugged. But you can check again if you need to.”

“I have OCD,” I explained sheepishly, even though I’d told her many times before.

“I know,” she said, “so we can stay here as long as you need to.”

I like to tell people I have clinical Obsessive Compulsive Disorder pretty early on in our relationship for precisely this reason: It adds a layer of understanding and, ideally, patience to my behaviors that I’m not sure I’d be lent otherwise. It also explains why it takes me ages to leave the house; why I need reassurance about basic things; why I’m chronically late to everything. It’s difficult to run out the door when I need to check the doors, the windows, and the stove several times over. Sometimes, I even take photos of these things in anticipation of the inevitable moment I question myself later.

OCD, I explain to people, isn’t truly about cleanliness or organization. For me, the main manifestation of OCD is a near-constant chorus of negative, repetitive thoughts based on my fears. These thoughts tell me something terrible is going to happen if I don’t wash my hands, dump out that water, tap a banister on my way down the stairs, or double back to step on the same slab of sidewalk again. They tell me I’m terrible; that I’m irresponsible and therefore left the door wide open; that anything bad that’s ever happened to me was something I deserved.

Like many people with OCD, I started experiencing symptoms when I was around 11 years old (symptoms usually begin manifesting during early adolescence). I didn’t realize there was a name for my illness (or that I was even ill at all) until almost 15 years later, when I was diagnosed in my mid-20s. I long knew there was something wrong—that I didn’t think the way other people thought—but I’d attributed it to some innate emotional instability; some inner weakness that I could erase if I could just be better. After all, I wasn’t “hearing voices,” per se. The thoughts sounded just like any other thoughts (which is what made them so confusing), but these were far more frequent, far more negative, and I couldn’t gain control over them. And because I’d never heard of anyone experiencing intrusive thoughts, I assumed I was alone in my perceived madness, and therefore was better off keeping quiet about it.

It’s easy to feel lonely when you think there’s something inherently wrong with you, and that it’s entirely your fault, and that no one in the world is experiencing what you’re experiencing. OCD is exceedingly rare, impacting around 2 percent of Americans, which is, perhaps, why it’s so misunderstood. Explaining OCD to a world that believes the illness to be nothing more than a predilection for hand sanitizer and the Container Store is almost as frustrating as the disease itself. 

After I was diagnosed, I surfed through Reddit and discovered many people feel trapped by their OCD diagnoses. It is manageable but incurable, and it’s difficult to come to terms with knowing you have an incredibly invasive, hopelessly permanent condition. It’s sort of like getting the flu and being told you’ll have it for the rest of your life.

But for me, the diagnosis was a relief: I finally knew what the problem was and, though it was a rare one, I was still far from alone. As a writer, it’s important to me to be able to express myself, and having the words to communicate—both to myself and to others—the inner workings of my mind was like finally being able to exhale after more than a decade of unwittingly holding my breath. The term Obsessive Compulsive Disorder was the missing piece of the puzzle in my journey to understanding myself, and to helping others understand me, too.

And although I refuse to be limited or defined by my OCD, I do think it’s an important factor to take into consideration as I move through life. People with OCD are at a higher risk of developing eating disorders (which I’ve had), insomnia (yup), depression (been there), and substance abuse disorders. This is because OCD is about control—something life often robs us of—which can be enough to send OCD patients into a tailspin. Having the disorder is like seeing the world through hyper-anxious lenses, which can be tempered when life is calm, but increase in severity once something bad has happened.

An example: When I was 20, I developed PTSD after a violent rape. I wasn’t yet diagnosed with OCD and had no idea what was going on when, suddenly, my negative thoughts spiraled out of control, preventing me from sleeping well for years. There were times when I thought I’d need to be committed because I didn’t yet have the ability to make sense of what was happening to me, or the vocabulary to communicate my inner turmoil to my loved ones. I didn’t understand that I had a condition that magnifies the impact of states like depression, anxiety, and PTSD, so I thought that my sanity was slipping from me. And I was so baffled by and ashamed of my mental state that I refused to tell anyone, unsure of what I’d say if I tried to.

That experience, above all else, is why I’m so cavalier in speaking about my OCD today. By labeling my intrusive thoughts and exposing them to the world, I’m able to rob them of their power and reduce the compulsions that accompany them. OCD may be incurable, but having a logical reason for my illogical thoughts has enabled me to dismiss them more often. And the ability to communicate my anxiety to the people around me has made me feel infinitely more authentic and seen.

An OCD diagnosis is never good news, but for more than a decade, I felt like I was living in the dark, always afraid of some monster lurking in a corner. So it’s nice to finally turn on the light; nice to discover that I have the ability to turn that light on whenever I want to; and even nicer to find that the monster, in reality, was never  more than a coat rack.

In the month of August, Propel Fitness Water is headed to Detroit, MI, for the final summer tour stop. During every weekend in August (8/6-8/28), free fitness classes and product samples will be available to all exercisers who show up for a glow up. Propel's lead Detroit trainer, Amina Daniels, who is the founder of Live Cycle Delight (LCD) (two studios that prioritize body work and shared energy), will be one of the trainers leading workouts. 

Daniels is an avid cyclist and yogi, and her studios focus on enjoyment, awareness, and safety. She works hard to promote fitness in her community; LCD has been open for over five years, and their local events have included neighborhood block parties and teen wellness takeovers. 

The JOWO campaign also includes community giveback—Daniels received a donation to help support her fitness work. In total, Propel Fitness Water has donated $100,000 to trainers around the United States who embody the spirit of inclusivity and community that make working out joyous. 

Participants at these live events can look forward to a variety of exercise classes, ranging from running to HIIT and plyometrics, all taught by top-notch instructors. Get ready to sweat and bond with participants in the warm weather at a variety of outdoor locations. Even better? There are a ton of ways to connect and even win free gear. 

Even if you don't live in the area, you can still get involved: Follow @PropelWater on Instagram and post a post-workout selfie using #JOWOGlow for the chance to win workout swag. Propel Fitness Water wants exercisers of all ability levels to participate in their campaign—and it doesn't matter how you like to work out, so long as you're channeling your JOWO.

@propelwater

♬ original sound - Propel Fitness Water

Propel Fitness Water is formulated for fitness and the perfect companion to all this exercise. Made by Gatorade, it’s the only zero-calorie, zero-sugar electrolyte water beverage among national enhanced-water brands with enough electrolytes to replace what's lost in sweat.

To find their own version of JOWO, people who live in Detroit can join trainers, including Daniels, for free fitness classes at the #PropelYourJOWO tour stops in August. Learn more and see the schedule at PropelYourJOWO.com. 

No purchase is necessary to enter the sweepstakes. It is only open to those 18 or older who reside in Michigan, and it ends 10/31/22. For complete details see the Official Rules.

This isn't your typical wellness issue. There are no fitness routines or recipes for losing weight. No, this issue is about being well in the well-rounded sense. About destigmatizing mental health in our culture, through pop culture. About breaking the patriarchal medicine mold. About considering the emotional and psychological impacts of something that seems very physical. We explore the body-brand paradox and identify what to download to actually feel better. This is a celebration of a new wave of wellness and we're so glad the tides are changing.

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Jacques’s doctors finally figured it out when she was 15—she had endometriosis, a disorder that causes cells similar to the uterus or endometrium to grow outside of it and which affects roughly 10 percent of women under age 50. But after attempts to treat the problem with birth control and a period of forced menopause, her doctor made his final recommendation—the removal of her uterus. A hysterectomy. Jacques was just 17.

“I felt like I had nowhere else to turn,” says Jacques, now 31. “I just wanted to be a normal kid going off to college without this pain. I was just like, Okay, get the surgery. Let me get my life back.”

Jacques’ life post-hysterectomy (she later found out that part of her cervix was removed, too) was far from what she expected. Within a year of the surgery, she began experiencing signs of endometriosis again (intense cramps even though she wasn’t menstruating, stabbing lower back pain, and dozens of ovarian cysts, many of which would rupture), which doctors dismissed as impossible, she remembers. Then another troubling symptom began to develop—a dip in her mental health. 

“I was down and at my wit’s end. I felt hopeless,” she says. She took medical leave from law school because of her symptoms. “It was a complete mess.”

At the time, Jacques didn’t understand the cause of her struggles. Since then, the reality of her situation has crystalized: Not only did removing her uterus not cure her endometriosis, as her doctors promised, it also led to a long list of harmful side effects, including a life-long struggle with mood issues and chronic pain. 

Though it may sound extreme, Jacques’s story is not unique. A hysterectomy may be prescribed for symptoms ranging from abnormal uterine bleeding and uterine fibroids to pelvic support problems and gynecological cancer. (Black women are diagnosed with fibroids nearly three times as often as white women, and tend to develop them earlier in their lives; they are more than twice as likely to receive a hysterectomy as their treatment.) Hysterectomy is the second-most common surgical procedure for women in the U.S., after the Cesarean section. More than 400,000 women get hysterectomies every year in the United States, according to an article published in the journal Obstetrics & Gynecology in 2014, and some estimates show that more than one-third of U.S. women will have one by age 60, although the rate that the procedure is performed declined significantly from 1998 to 2010. 

It’s important to note that many women who have hysterectomies are happy with their choice and do not report any negative side effects. It’s also important to note that there are some instances when a hysterectomy is life-saving. One is in the event of cancer, either cervical, uterine, or ovarian. Another extremely viable reason for hysterectomy is as part of gender confirmation for transgender men. 

Still, the vast majority of hysterectomies are performed for benign conditions. A 2015 study found that nearly one in five women who undergo hysterectomy may not need the procedure. The rate of unsupportive pathology post-surgery was especially high in women under 40, nearly 2 in 5 women. The study found that nearly 40 percent of women were not offered alternative treatments for a benign condition prior to surgery.

The question of necessity becomes particularly important when considering that a total hysterectomy will result not only in early menopause and the inability to carry a biological child in the future, but also, as women like Jacques have reported, mental and emotional side effects. Women we spoke to say their doctors dismissed their distressing post-surgery symptoms with a patronizing “it’s all in your head.”

“I wasn't asking for the hysterectomy,” says Jacques. “It was very much pushed on me.”

In Ancient Greece, it was thought that the hystera, or womb, wandered throughout the body causing mental and physical problems. In the 18th and 19th centuries, female hysteria was a disorder diagnosed mainly in women—a Canadian psychiatrist even advocated surgically removing the womb to cure women of mental illness. Smelling salts used by Victorian women presumably snapped that errant womb back into place. In the 1968 Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders or DSM-II, hysteria was listed as a mental health condition, only dropping from the DSM-III in 1980. In summary, wombs have long equaled a propensity for neuroses. 

It’s not an entirely preposterous assessment. The connection between hysterectomy and mental health issues is clear: According to Mayo Clinic research, women are at greater long-term risk for anxiety and depression following a hysterectomy; if they underwent the procedure between the ages of 18 and 35, that risk nearly doubles. Hysterectomy patients also have an increased risk for bipolar disorder; endometriosis and hormone therapy may add to the risk of bipolar disorder after the procedure.

While the term hysterectomy technically refers to the removal of the uterus, the procedure sometimes includes the ovaries, fallopian tubes, and/or cervix. In fact, 300,000 women in the U.S. have their healthy ovaries removed every year. But even when the ovaries are kept intact, a hysterectomy can cause them to eventually stop functioning. One study found that 25 percent of women lose ovarian function by six months post-hysterectomy. According to Dr. Philip Sarrel, professor emeritus of Obstetrics, Gynecology, Reproductive Sciences, and Psychiatry at Yale School of Medicine, and president and founder of the Advancing Health After Hysterectomy Foundation, this could be due in part to the loss of the shared blood supply between the organs.

There’s likely one major cause for this mind-uterus connection: hormones, or the lack thereof. Research into the function of female hormones beyond their role in fertility is severely lacking, but we do know that when a woman’s ovaries stop producing estrogen (a potential result of a hysterectomy), she can experience a bevy of negative side effects. One paper published in Menopause Review in 2018, for example, connects estrogen deficiency with depression, psychological tension, anxiety, mood swings, loss of libido, and decreased self-esteem. 

Some of these issues (plus memory loss and brain fog) occur with the natural lessening of estrogen due to menopause, which typically happens gradually and naturally around age 50. But when a woman goes into early or forced menopause, the likelihood of these symptoms occurring rises. For women still in child-bearing years, a hysterectomy can be a form of forced menopause. 

The connection between estrogen and mental health isn’t well understood. But we do know that the ovaries form a connection to our brains as part of the hypothalamic–pituitary–gonadal axis (HPG axis), a major signaling pathway that regulates the reproductive system. Even after menopause, this system makes hormones that keep women healthy for their entire lives. If the ovaries are removed entirely, those hormones are no longer being produced. 

Some experts also speculate that ovarian hormones modulate the serotonin system, and therefore mood. But the mechanism of that relationship has yet to be discovered. Dr. Sarrel thinks that the impact of a hysterectomy on mental wellness also has to do with the actions of estrogen on nerve transmission, as well as blood flow to the brain. He cites a growing body of research (including his own) that points to hot flashes having something to do with post-hysterectomy depression.

But even without a perfect understanding of why, Dr. Sarrel concludes simply: “Estrogen plays an essential role in biological existence. And it has for 600 million years.”

In Jacques’ initial surgery her doctor did preserve her ovaries. But not long after, she had to have one of them removed because it was covered with endometriosis. Her new doctor says the remaining ovary “isn’t that healthy-looking,” but has advised her to leave it in order to keep her hormone levels as steady as possible—and therefore her mental health.

Alternatives to hysterectomy for non-life-threatening disorders include laparoscopic procedures, medication, and a hormonal intrauterine device (IUD). OB-GYN Iris Kerin Orbuch, M.D., author of Beating Endo: How to Reclaim Your Life from Endometriosis, believes that too many doctors jump to performing a hysterectomy when they encounter a patient who is having pelvic pain. “You can’t be knife-happy,” she says. Dr. Orbuch describes patients who had a hysterectomy at 17 or in their 20s, who come into her office, “in tears because they're like, ‘My doctor said my pain was going to get better. I always wanted a kid. I'm still in pain…and my dreams are shattered.’ They never should have had a hysterectomy in the first place.” 

She advocates for treating underlying issues causing the pain before turning to surgery. Skipping right to a hysterectomy, she says, doesn’t handle other causes for pain, like tight pelvic floor muscles. “And now, you've shattered their childbearing dreams,” she adds. “It's devastating; you can’t just glue a uterus back in.”

With endometriosis, cells that are similar to the uterus lining or the endometrium are found outside the uterus, explains Dr. Orbuch. The inflammatory changes caused by these cells can alter the structure of the pelvis, pulling things to the left or right or the back. “Unfortunately, too many women are being treated with a hysterectomy for endometriosis, but it doesn't make sense. Their pain is outside of the uterus.” 

A hysterectomy is, however, the definitive treatment for adenomyosis. It is “a cousin of endometriosis,” she says. “Adenomyosis is when you have those cells that are similar to the lining of the uterus or endometrial-like cells, but they're found within the smooth muscle of the uterus. So their location is in the uterus. Women with adenomyosis can have heavy bleeding. They tend to have a low sacral backache. They tend to have midline pelvic pain, a heaviness in their pelvis.” Many women have both endometriosis and adenomyosis, “not always, but very often,” she says, “so it gets a bit complicated.” 

When surgery is the best option, Dr. Orbuch discusses all eventualities, including, if the patient still has ovaries, using their eggs and a surrogate. “I spell that out to them. I spell out that it may not help their pain, we don't know. I spell out that they could develop scarring or lesions, which may cause more pain. So any surgery theoretically can beget more pain.”

Jenneh Rishe was 30 when she had her hysterectomy. She was in a serious relationship but not married, and the couple wasn’t sure about wanting kids. Her symptoms included pain with sexual penetration and constant pain in her back, hips, and groin; during a pelvic exam she “was jumping off the table” every time the doctor touched her uterus. Rishe had been diagnosed with endometriosis and later adenomyosis. “I didn't know what specifically was causing what. The surgeon asked if, when he was doing the endometriosis surgery, if he needed to, [could he] take [my] uterus?”  

Faced with a decision about her “forever fertility,” she didn't feel prepared to make such a permanent choice. “So I told my surgeon that if, when he's in there, he's very suspicious of adenomyosis, he [could] do a different procedure, which is called a presacral neurectomy. Basically he would sever the nerves that send pain signals to my uterus. So I wouldn't feel pain. So that's what we did.” That gave her relief for about six months. Over time, she started “feeling bad again,” she says, with terrible back pain and “pelvic spasms that would bring me to my knees.” She had brain fog and was tired all the time. She tried everything she could to avoid having a hysterectomy—an IUD, steroid injections, physical therapy. “You name it, I tried it. I really did give everything a shot before deciding to move forward with the hysterectomy,” says Rishe. Ultimately, it was about her quality of life. “I was functional enough to go to work and barely manage through my day. I was taking every kind of THC and CBD [I] could. I'd have, underneath my clothes, a heating pad and a lidocaine patch. That was my every single day.”

She and her boyfriend sat down and asked themselves, “‘Just what is the point of all this?’ We both didn't know if we wanted kids. We weren't married or engaged or anything. And so I had to make this decision for myself, but also for somebody else, essentially.” Her dilemma after a year of trying to manage: Hold out for something she’s not even sure she wants and “stay miserable” or have the hysterectomy?

In 2017, she decided on the latter. “And, of course, I felt a lot better,” she says. “As I expected to, physically, I felt amazing.” She was, however, unprepared for the wave of grief that hit her at about three months post-surgery. “I'm a nurse; I'm very calculated in my medical decisions. I weigh all the risks and benefits. I went in very, very confident in my decision and I still am. But I think that rational side of me didn't leave room for any emotions that were going to come with it,” she says. “It just hit me like, Oh my gosh, like I can never carry a child of my own.” One of her closest friends was having a baby shower and Rishe, who by this point had gotten engaged to her boyfriend, couldn’t attend. “I was going in circles.” 

Rishe, author of Part of You, Not All of You: Shared Wisdom and Guided Journaling for Life With Chronic Illness, was disturbed by society’s narrative that women’s utmost joy and fulfillment is through raising a child. “I'm probably hyper-focused on it, but I feel like it is everywhere,” she says. “I can't escape this idea that motherhood is the be-all, end-all of accomplishment for women. I think that's what I wrestled with even more so than my own decision: that society made me feel like I wasn't good enough.”

On top of this feeling of existential loss, Rishe went into early menopause. “That was a whole other nightmare,” she says. Since the operation did not remove her ovaries, “the idea was that I would not have any hormonal issues, but that's not the case. [My hormones] were a mess. They were so inconsistent.” Her doctor had not prepared her for this possibility. “I tried every type of hormone replacement under the sun, every patch, every cream, every insert and nothing works…I have talked to a lot of women who have had hormone issues, post-hysterectomy, but are told because they have their ovaries that shouldn't be the case. But it is for a lot of us.” She also has hot flashes, vaginal dryness, insomnia, and anxiety. “I never had any of that before the surgery, ever.” 

Rishe has seen at least five hormone specialists some of whom, she says, admitted that they’re not used to seeing younger patients; they're not used to seeing a 30-something having perimenopausal-type symptoms with ovaries. “No one really knew what to do with me. I had a really hard time with that.”

If they are done having children, or don’t want them at all, hysterectomy patients may be told that their sex organs serve no purpose, and they might as well have them taken out. Even the American Cancer Society says that treatment for cervical cancer “depends on whether or not you want to be able to have children.” If you don’t, the plan for care is a hysterectomy, plain and simple. 

This line of thinking is sometimes continued when women approach their doctors with post-hysterectomy depression, or other psychological side effects. Anecdotally, women report doctors brushing off their symptoms and chalking it up to mourning their lost fertility. “I cannot tell you how many women who were depressed after hysterectomy with their ovaries retained who were told, ‘You're mourning the loss of your uterus,’” Dr. Sarrel says. “Women with depression really have a hard time being believed or being listened to.”

The impact of a hysterectomy on one’s fertility and sexuality is the subject of a new movie from Lena Dunham—her first feature film in a dozen years. Released just last month, Sharp Stick tells the story of a young nanny who comes off as frumpy and sexually naive due to having had a hysterectomy as a teen. After a fling with her charge's dad, the lead character embarks on a cinematic journey of sexual awakening. (A hysterectomy can result in loss of sexual response and desire, particularly if the cervix was removed, however, some women report an increase in sexual satisfaction after the surgery, perhaps as a result of reduction in pain during sex.) 

Dunham herself had a hysterectomy at 31, after a decade of battling endometriosis and several other surgeries. A known confessional storyteller, Dunham shared deep thoughts about her own infertility, surgery, and pain in an article she wrote for Vogue in 2018, "...something is wrong with my uterus. I can feel it, deeply specific yet unverified, despite so many tests and so much medical dialogue. I just sense that the uterus I have been given is defective." Dunham has openly mourned the fact that she’ll never physically carry a baby, saying she misses the pregnant belly she wore on Girls and the one she constructed as a child out of bunched up laundry. She talks about the "big stupid sobs" she cries over her lost uterus when she's alone in the bathtub. 

While Dr. Orbuch allows that most OB-GYNs are women’s health generalists and not specialists in, say, endocrinology or endometriosis as she is, which could contribute to the deficit in communication, one anti-hysterectomy activist, Nora W. Coffey, believes that doctors are deliberately not telling patients about the connection between sexual organs and mental health. “It's not that doctors don't know what they're doing. They know exactly what they're doing to women. They studied anatomy,” she says. “I’ve come to the conclusion that it's deliberate. They do not want the truth out.”

Coffey is the founder of the HERS Foundation, a nonprofit organization that has been educating women about female anatomy and the after-effects of hysterectomy since 1982. The impetus for HERS was Coffey’s own experience with the detrimental changes caused by her hysterectomy, which she underwent in her mid-thirties. Since then, she’s spent nearly 40 years trying to get medical school faculty to listen to her and to change their actions, to almost no avail. She’s also spent that time collecting stories from thousands of women with experiences like hers—and getting this information into the hands of as many women as possible.

To Coffey, there is absolutely no question about hysterectomy’s devastating effects on women’s psychological and emotional health. In addition to a long list of other side effects, data compiled by HERS through surveys and interviews has found that nearly 80 percent of women who had a hysterectomy with both ovaries removed have experienced a change of personality, 70 percent have lost the ability to socialize, 54 percent have experienced suicidal thoughts, and nearly 10 percent have made suicide attempts. HERS even has one woman’s suicide letter, which details her post-hysterectomy decline, posted on their website. 

“I don't think we realize how much the uterus has to do with who we are. How you walk, how you talk, how you dance,” says Coffey. “Every part of your body is affected, your brain. Everything.”

Whether research can prove exactly what that ineffable connection between the uterus and the mind is or not, Coffey says, the organ shouldn’t be cut out without a woman being fully informed about the potential consequences. In fact, she believes that one reason women become depressed after hysterectomy is that they’re not adequately prepared for what to expect. 

Jacques feels the same. Since her hysterectomy, she’s had three surgeries—the first two to mitigate the damage done by that initial procedure, and the last to finally rid her body of the endometriosis the hysterectomy was supposed to cure. While she knows now that her hysterectomy was unnecessary, she says she just wishes her doctor had told her something—anything—about what to expect. 

“I would have liked them to prep me a little bit,” she says. “My hormones were just beginning at that stage, so I would have liked more information about what could potentially happen, and if this would cause a hormone imbalance. Because it definitely did.”

Like Coffey, Jacques is using her experience to help others—she is currently a patient advocate for women and especially teenagers who may be pushed into a surgery they don’t need. Or, as Coffey puts it, give them the information to make that decision for themselves, whether “need” is part of the conversation or not.

“If you have a condition that you might die from and a hysterectomy would save your life,” Coffey says, “you still have the right to know the consequences and decide what you're going to do.” 

Additional reporting by Tessa Love

With the effects of climate change growing increasingly severe (and increasingly difficult to ignore), there is a growing movement to encourage individuals to make more sustainable choices in their everyday lives. It's important to point out that large corporations like ExxonMobil and Shell have a greater responsibility to make better choices than we individual consumers do, being that just 100 companies are responsible for over 70 percent of climate change. However, if we collectively choose to employ sustainable products in our daily routines instead of products that include plastic packaging or produce harmful waste, then we can use our dollars to encourage companies to produce more eco-friendly products and ditch their wasteful ways.

So here's to using menstruation as an avenue to be more sustainable in our daily routines and to encourage large corporations to follow suit. Below, check out some of my favorite products that have saved me money, time, and hopefully can play some role in saving Mother Earth. 

The Menstrual Cup

The period cup, with its longwear potential and reusability, has long been at the forefront of the sustainable menstrual product movement. It's inserted and removed like a tampon, but can be worn for up to 12 hours without putting you at risk for Toxic Shock Syndrome. Chambers-Saini says this is because tampons, which can cause TSS, are often made from rayon and polyester fibers that can scratch the vaginal canal, introducing bacteria that causes TSS. High-absorbency tampons also rob the vagina of the moisture it needs to naturally clean itself. Menstrual cups, on the other hand, are neither absorbent nor capable of causing scratches.

"People who try the product say that their lives are transformed when they try the cup," says Chambers-Saini. "At first, they're nervous it's going to be messy and difficult to use, but then they try it and experience not having to worry about replacing it or exposing the body to chemicals, and they find that this is a really empowering product."

If you've never used a menstrual cup before, you may have a few concerns, the most common of which we've tapped Chambers-Saini to help assuage. "Taking the cup out is the most common concern that we hear, and I assure you that it can't get lost," says Chambers-Saini. "The vaginal canal is only about four to six inches long and is blocked by the cervix." She goes on to say that, if you're still concerned, be aware that the cup isn't supposed to be inserted as deeply as a tampon would be, and should inside "worn a bit lower and more angled in the vaginal canal." Proper positioning will make removal easier and will ensure that the cup doesn't put pressure on the urethra (which can make urination difficult).

And if you are having trouble removing the cup? Chambers-Saini says, "If it does manage to wiggle its way up—which occasionally happens if it's not positioned properly—we have some tips and tricks on our website, like squatting and bearing down a little bit, which shortens the vaginal canal substantially. From there, pinch the base of the cup, gently pulling it from side to side to allow some air to enter. That should break the seal and you should be able to remove it very easily."

Period Panties

I was pretty skeptical when I first heard about period panties. Sitting around all day while I bled all over my clothing? No, thank you.

But when I finally opened my mind enough to try period underwear, these products changed my life (or at least my menstrual cycle) forever. These panties are made of super-absorbent, super-washable fabric, so you don't have to worry about leaks or bleeding through them. It's also so nice to just feel normal when I'm getting my period—to not have to worry about changing my pad, waddling around when I'm getting dressed to look for a pad or tampon, or having to stick something into my vagina throughout the day.

Long live the period panty.

Sustainable Menstrual Discs

Menstrual discs have gained tremendous popularity in recent years because of the rare novelty they're able to offer: Mess-free period sex. Many of these discs, however, are single-use, so while many can be worn for up to 12 hours and therefore reduce the volume of menstrual-related waste (in 12 hours, I can go through several pads or tampons) they take up space in landfills anyway.

Enter the reusable menstrual disc, and we have a healthy, mess-free, and environmentally-friendly solution to the period sex quandary. However, as with menstrual cups, take care to consult with your gynecologist before using menstrual discs if you're using an IUD—the suction from certain discs can potentially impact the placement of the IUD. 

Reusable Pads

Like many women, I use pads as my go-to when I'm sleeping or just relaxing at home. However, they pile up in landfills, cost a ton of money (especially after decades of having to buy them on a near-monthly basis) and, let's be honest, they often feel like diapers. Instead, consider these reusable fabric pads, which are washable, effective, and infinitely softer than their single-use counterparts.

Sustainable Tampons

While the above options work for many women, others have a hard time, after almost a lifetime of tampon use, quitting these tried-and-true products. As a result, some menstrual companies have responded by making chlorine-free, organic, biodegradable options that use little-to-no plastic, like these options below.

Meet the Expert

"Our business is built around Mom," explained Willow Chief Commercial Officer Sarah O’Leary in a recent episode of Marie Claire's Getting Down to Business Instagram Live series. "The person who gets missed in the conversation when a baby is born is Mom." Willow's mission is to build solutions for moms’ most meaningful problems—and they want your help to demand better.

A traditional breast pump isn't made with new moms or their mental health in mind: They're usually loud, bulky, and plugged into the wall—not to mention often uncomfortable and unwieldy. Adding to this initial challenge is lack of public spaces for moms to pump, and the necessity to pump every two to three hours.  Moms feel intense pressure because they've been told "breast is best," but it can be impossible to achieve their breastfeeding goals alongside the requirements of life, like going back to work or managing childcare for other children. 

"It's putting this burden on the parent to sort through [challenges] instead of saying, 'You have done something amazing, it's really hard, and how can we support you?'" O'Leary said. "What I wish for the world is that we get to a place where new parents are truly supported and enabled to experience this transformative experience."

The first Willow product was launched in 2018. They developed a tube- and cord-free wearable breast pump, the only one of its kind that offers 360° leak-proof mobility, meaning moms can pump hands-free, with dignity, while they go about their busy day. "Willow essentially set them free to be able to live their life," explained O'Leary. 

The brand now offers two wearable, cordless, hands-free pumps: the Willow 3.0 and the Willow Go, which is at a lower price point ($329.99, and as low as $150 with insurance). The pumps' suction is designed to mimic the latch of a baby, and the mechanism isn't reliant on gravity like traditional pumps. Willow 3.0 also offers insights via their mobile app, and there are discounts for military personnel, teachers, and healthcare workers. The pumps and accessories are available on their website but also on Target and Buy Buy Baby.

"We're working to bring this life-changing technology to more moms," said O'Leary. "Now our goal is that every mom has the option of pumping and breastfeeding in a way that enables her life and gives her freedom at a more accessible price point."

Willow recently announced their Register for More campaign, which includes a ton of resources for new parents, their partners, and friends and family who want to help. The goal is to enable women to demand better, whether it be help from the community or better structures in place at work. Part of the campaign is getting parents the support they desperately need. But it's also about placing moms at the center of the discussion about breastfeeding and caregiving. After all, being a mom is a strength in life and in the workplace—not a weakness. As O’Leary says: “I gain in my work from my experience as a mom. I have gained empathy, shifted in my leadership skills (try leading a 2-year-old!), have gained wisdom and perspective, and have become a master prioritizer."

Willow hopes moms, dads, partners, and other relevant voices join the discussion about breastfeeding, childcare, and other postpartum subjects on their website and via social media: on Facebook or Instagram with the hashtag #WithWillow. "I'm really proud to be working in a place where we're making a difference and starting to use our brand voice and storytelling to change that narrative about what parenting needs to be all about," said O'Leary. 

Learn more about the Willow Go and other pump options on Willow's website, and let your voice be heard on the Register for More website. 

I have firsthand experience with this. From well-meaning family members to people at the supermarket, questions and feedback about my choices were frequent and often unsolicited. Why did my husband need to take extended parental leave after our daughter was born (and was there something "wrong" with me)? Did getting a night nurse make me an irresponsible parent? And when I pumped for the first few months: Why wasn't I exclusively pumping? What happened to my milk supply? Why wasn't I "trying harder" or pumping more often? And yet, it was only a few close friends (usually other moms) who bothered to check in about my wellbeing in those first exhausting months.

But instead, the Willow® brand wants to know what you need. For a little context, Willow Innovations was the first brand to challenge convention in the breast pump category, changing the space by creating the first fully in-bra wearable pump and the only wearable in-bra pump offering 360° leak-proof mobility. Today, they have two models (I used the Willow 3.0 for my pregnancy) that are cordless, small, and quiet, which allows for pumping on-the-go with dignity—at work, in the middle of chores, and even during an errand run. It's a huge time-saver, not to mention a great way to multitask and feel accomplished at the same time. 

Now, Willow is disrupting the conventional narrative about motherhood. Their new campaign “Register for More” is filled with resources for parents and parents-to-be, which you can also forward to family, friends, and anyone else who wants to learn about postpartum challenges. Willow launched Register for More to ignite conversation about how society supports mothers (and how to do a better job). Their pumps are just a part of their larger goal to normalize new parents' unique journeys and what they need to get to a healthy, happy place with their new baby.

Take the Register for More section on postpartum mental health, for example, authored by founder and CEO of Motherhood Understood, Jen Schwartz. It begins by inviting partners of new moms to ask themselves questions about her mental health and find out how she's really doing. Is she able to take care of herself? Is she struggling to complete everyday tasks? The section normalizes postpartum mental health conditions, includes facts and FAQs, explains how you can be supportive, and—critically—helps you learn what not to do. Yes, do educate yourself and reassure her you're not going anywhere. No, don't tell her to "snap out of it," please.

There are plenty of other resources, too, like actionable tips for pumping and breastfeeding—how to create a schedule that works, for example, what's normal and what's not normal with a baby's feeding, and what weird things are totally expected (yes, it's not unusual to get sleepy during nursing!). There's material on understanding physical recovery, requesting paid family leave, and even boundary-setting as a parent. There's also a whole toolkit on returning to work, and how to transition slowly and effectively into pumping, working, and multitasking as a parent working outside the home. Basically, if you've got a question in those early days, Willow wants to answer them. 

Federal and workplace supports, like paid leave and dedicated places to pump, are still emerging. And too often, parents still have to fight for their perspectives to be heard. But Willow imagines a better world for moms. Head to Register for More to go through these important resources. You can even submit your own entry for what you'd like to register for, from more support at home to lactation tips and more. You can also join the conversation on Facebook or Instagram with the hashtag #WithWillow.

That’s why the wearable, smart Willow breast pump was such a lifesaver for me. If there’s a single word that describes the brand, it’s freedom. Lots of pumps are big, bulky, loud, and need to be plugged into the wall. Not this one. For a nursing parent, the ability to do chores, take care of your baby, and even lay down while pumping is one of those things you never knew you needed—and makes your life so, so much easier once you have it. If you're choosing to pump, I promise: The Willow can help.

The brand has two different models: the Willow 3.0 and the Willow Go. Both are wearable, cordless, hand-free pumps with a sleek design that fit into a bra and offer hospital-grade suction. They're quiet and discreet, making pumping on the go uncomplicated, and easy to clean with dishwasher-safe parts. Both pumps are FDA-cleared and FSA/HSA-eligible. And Willow users say they actually pumped more milk when using Willow 3.0, compared to previous generations of the pump.¹

The Willow 3.0 has all the bells and whistles. It's the only wearable breast pump that offers 360° spill-proof mobility: you can literally use it while doing a headstand when you're pumping into a plastic bag. The Willow 3.0 pump kit comes with spill-proof disposable milk bags, which are perfect for storage. Or, you can purchase Willow's compatible reusable milk container set, sold separately for $49.99, which makes transferring milk easy. Plus, the smart-pump technology lets you track your output, choose your suction level, and view your session history all from your phone via the Willow 3.0 App. With those perks comes a higher price tag—$499.99. You'll also need to factor in buying extra spill-proof milk bags at $23.99. 

Willow recently introduced the Willow Go wearable pump, which is less expensive at $329.99—or as low as $150 with most insurance. With Willow Go, you can still pump discreetly, but it's not completely leak-proof like Willow 3.0. It's still great for multitasking and moving around while you pump hands-free and cord-free. Unlike the premium pump, Willow Go is only compatible with the reusable milk containers that come with it. Willow Go is also the only in-bra wearable breast pump to offer up to 14 oz. capacity per session. For those who produce a higher capacity of milk, the Willow Go 7 oz. reusable milk container set is sold separately for $29.99.

Knowing that I could just pop on the two pumps and go about my work and home life, feeling comfortable with them tucked inside my nursing bra, meant that I had one less thing to worry about. Considering all the things on my to-do list in those first few weeks, it was a huge weight off my chest—pun intended. 

If I were pumping now (or if I pump in the future with a second child), I’d likely choose the Willow Go: I love the ease of the containers, and I've never made enough milk to store ahead. But the Willow 3.0 I used for my first child was top-notch, and the extra app features were a pure delight: Which breast produced more? Which session gave me the most milk? How close was I to being done? Finding those answers made me feel like I was an expert in my own body, with all the right tools and data to optimize my own breast milk journey. 

If you're wondering which pump is right for you, this handy comparison chart is a great way to compare features and envision what's best for your lifestyle #WithWillow. Or, check out Willow's resource center and get in touch. 

¹ In testing, experienced Willow users who pumped with Generation 3 at least 20 times pumped 20 percent more milk on average than with prior generations.

I have a pretty massive sneaker collection, but none of the pairs I currently own could ever moonlight as an athletic shoe. And since the best kind of workout shoes are both cute and functional, I turned to Emily Abbate, a  certified run coach and the host of the Hurdle podcast, to help me sort through the expansive selection of running shoes on the market. 

"Depending on what you're going to be using the sneaker for, that's really going to determine what you need to prioritize in terms of your go to pick," she told me. Ahead, she broke down what exactly I⁠—and the rest of us new runners out there—should look for before we make a purchase. Oh, and they each have a little something special about the way they look, too. 

How do you run? 

This may sound self-explanatory, but everyone runs a little differently. "We all have a gait cycle when we run, and you may supinate or pronate," Abbate says, "or you may be a neutral runner." She clarifies that neither running style is better or worse on your body, and that they can even change over time.

But, with all of this in mind, you shouldn't necessarily let how you run deter you from trying on different types of sneakers to find your perfect fit. "If you choose a shoe that you feel comfortable and confident in, that is more important—and is shown to lead to less injury—than simply based shopping simply shopping based on your specific gait." 

Are you preparing for a marathon? 

Believe it or not, different sneakers are better for different distances. Long-distance runners know that comfort is key. That's why sneakers that are outfitted with cushioned details will be better for marathons or other longer runs.  Abbate says that HOKA's best-selling Clifton 8 Sneakers have become know across the internet for how comfortable they are to wear for good reason. 

But if you're running a shorter distance or if you're just working out, Abbate recommends opting for something that has less foam and padding. "A lighter shoe with less cushioning could feel faster," she says. "That's why we lean into these types of options when it comes to quick workouts."

Where are you running? 

Whether you're running on the concrete, on a trail, or on a track, your sneaker of choice should reflect your location. A trail path, for instance, might require you to opt for a pair like the Altra Mont Blancs, which is designed to give you better traction as you go. 

For her everyday runs, Abbate loves to wear either PUMA's Velocity Nitro 2 or New Balance's 1080 sneakers. Or, if you live in a particularly wet climate (or just love to run in the rain), Abbate recommends Nike's Pegasus 37 Shield, which are designed to be water repellent. 

Do you have "weak ankles?" 

If you find that your ankles hurt when you run, Abbate recommends speaking to a specialist about why that might be happening. "Make sure that you have someone you know kind of take a look at your form and your gait," she says. "And check out how your feet are hitting the ground as you're on the move.” 

Choosing one shoe or another may not resolve the issue, so figuring out exactly why you feel the pain where you feel it is important. If you are looking something that will be more comfortable as you move, Abbate says that looking for a pair of sneakers that has more padding underfoot could be helpful. 

The bottom line?

"Comfort is key," Abbate says. While understanding your gait or whether or not your foot pronates or supinates as you run, finding the shoe that makes you feel your best is what's most important for anyone looking to get into running in 2022. Keep scrolling to shop the best running sneakers on the market right now.

Shop Emily's Picks:

Shop The Internet's Favorites: 

While the existence of the pleasure gap can be attributed to many things—the stigma around sexual pleasure, the portrayal of penis-centered intercourse in popular culture, or the general taboo when it comes to talking about orgasms—how to help solve the problem is easier. Enter: Dame, the revolutionary female-founded sexual wellness brand that’s giving vulva-owners the tools they need to prioritize their pleasure and close the gap. (And read on for an exclusive discount for Marie Claire readers!) 

Dame has engineered a range of sexual wellness products for couples and solo adventurers alike, developed and tested by real people with vulvas to ensure these toys really do what they promise. These products are next-level: Dame has reinvented the wheel when it comes to classic sex toy shapes like wands and bullets, adding thoughtful touches that could only have been created by someone who actually used these products.

So, because no two bodies or orgasms are alike, Dame invites you to get in touch with yourself—literally, of course, but figuratively too. When you take the time to explore your own sexual wellness and pleasure, you gain insight into what works, what doesn’t, and even your overall health.

Now about those products: You may recall that Dame was the genius brand behind Eva, a hands-free couples toy that focuses pleasure on the vulva during penetrative sex. Thanks to its unique design and its impossibly chic color options, Eva practically begged to be put on display as a conversation piece instead of hidden in the bedside drawer.

Also in the Dame family is Pom, a cute and bendy little vibe that adapts to you, with five speeds, five intensities, and a waterproof exterior so it can be used anywhere. And Aer, the suction toy to end all suction toys, which uses pulses of air to mimic the best parts of oral sex. Then there’s Arc, a discreet G-spot vibrator that can be used internally or externally, with a squishy bulb and focused ridge for the ultimate self-exploration. 

And now there’s Com, an external, curved rechargeable wand that contains Dame’s strongest motor to date. Unlike other wands, Com was designed with comfort in mind—it’s actually quiet, with a light design, an hour of battery life, and an ergonomic handle that works with your body. This isn’t a “personal massager” denying its a sex toy: This is a sex toy that totally works as a personal massager, too.

So make this year the one where you get in touch with yourself and figure out what you really, really like. Because closing that pesky pleasure gap means first prioritizing your pleasure. Dame just gets it.

Exclusively for our readers, take 15% off your first order with code 'MARIECLAIRE' at checkout.

Visit Dame to check out the products, and follow them on Instagram at @dameproducts.

Designer Jeremiah Brent launched sustainable limited-edition home essentials and cleaning products in collaboration with Grove Co. This incense set, which comes with a marble incense holder, incense sticks, nested marbly trays, and an organic cotton towel, will inspire the person in your life to create comforting and calming rituals after long work days.

Depending on who you speak to, completing a puzzle may not be the most ~stress relieving~ activity, but this "Be Curious Mini Mantras" pick is a happy medium. The chic 42-piece puzzle provides a dose of inspiration and encourages the puzzle-goer to focus their mind on one task rather than everything else going on in the world.

As they say, laughter is the best medicine. Play adult card game "What Do You Meme?" when you want to blow off some steam with a couple friends before you binge-watch 'And Just Like That' together. During the game, players match photo cards with caption cards, ultimately creating their own funny memes. (It can also be easily played over Zoom!)

What could possibly be more soothing than this scalp-reviving head massager? Wrong answers only.

If they'd never splurge on La Mer on their own, they'll be obsessed with this intensive revitalizing mask to use on their most stressful days. The directions encourage users to breathe in deeply three times while rubbing the mask on their face. 

Who doesn't love a great dessert after a stressful day? Send them one of Tate's signature gift baskets that includes chocolate chip cookies, double chocolate chip and walnut chocolate chip cookies, two chocolate brownies, a blondie, and a crumb cake.

Never underestimate the power of a great candle (or two) and accompanying room sprays during a relaxing night at home. 

If they've been holding out on attending workout classes in person, gift them this supportive yoga mat beloved by yogis so they can continue to do their workouts at home on a comfortable mat. 

Eucalyptus is known to create a calming presence. Use these eucalyptus steam shower cubes concentrated with cooling peppermint to relax your mind, clear your lungs, and focus on the present.

This game-changing calming spray will help a friend or family member achieve a better night's rest, thanks to the product's calming ingredients like lavender and vetiver.

After a long week of meetings and seemingly never-ending to-do lists, put on some Netflix and cozy up in this bestselling set of silk pajamas.

The next best thing to binge-watching 'The Real Housewives of New York' after a stressful day at work? Sitting down with this New York housewives coloring book and a glass of wine.

The key to a more calming space begins with plants...and a super cute vase to put them in.

Speaking of plants, these pre-planted fresh succulents will spark joy every time they look at them. This set from Lula's Garden is a perfect holiday gift.

This resistance band set will give them that extra boost of motivation they need to complete their workout, ultimately reducing stress levels.

Allow her to take care of her skin (and smell amazing!) with this Jo Malone peony & blush suede body and hand wash. 

There are few things that have the ability to lower one's stress level more than a pretty journal dedicated to setting daily intentions and crossing off an extensive to-do list. 

Instead of doom scrolling, whip out this luxurious Scrabble set—featuring a large rotating board with linen texture and raised-letter grid—and try not to beat your partner for the third time in a row.

There has never been a bad day that a bag of chocolate and pair of cute warm socks can't fix.

Yes, as we mentioned above, we still do puzzles over here. Gray Malin's double-sided, 500-piece puzzle is for the guaranteed puzzle lovers and a great distraction from the current state of the world.

There's no better way to unwind than taking a warm shower, wrapping a towel around your head, and rubbing moisturizing lotion all over your body. Epara's comforting body cream is an ideal gift for the fiscally-responsible woman who wouldn't dare spend the money on the luxurious lotion for herself (even though she secretly wants to).

Feel zen while using a gua sha that depuffs, contours, and stimulates healthy drainage and circulation for the skin. 

If they have a history of stress-baking, gift them the late Maya Angelou's 'Hallelujah! The Welcome Table: A Lifetime of Memories With Recipes,' where the acclaimed writer and civil rights activist shares recipes that impacted her life and the stories behind them.

The stressed out beauty lover in your life will appreciate a brand new silk pillowcase from Slip, which is known for its positive effects on skin and hair.

Any Diptyque candle hoarder will be obsessed with this glass Figuier hourglass diffuser, which releases warm notes of fig and fresh leaves, to create a calming setting in their home.

Rupi Kaur's latest collection of poetry, 'Home Body,' will inspire them to be at home within themselves. The book is filled with stories of love, loss, and, ultimately, growth.

Chakra Zulu sells crystal sets based on zodiac signs, putting a personal touch on a gift for someone in need of a good cleanse and energy recharge. The Florida-based, Black-owned shop has quite the following on Instagram.

The Box of Emotions consists of 80 colorful cards with mini essays on different emotions to help you process whatever you're feeling. If you're up to it, schedule a Zoom call with your best friend and go through them together.

Support Black artists like Akujixxv today and every day. This "Safe Space" print is instantly calming upon first glance, and will bring a sense of peace amidst the chaos every time you spot it in your living room.

This nifty sleep aid projects a little light on your bedroom ceiling for you to synchronize your breathing with—it'll expand and withdraw slowly, in line with recommend inhalation and exhalation times for maximum relaxation. After either eight or 20 minutes of this (you can pick which one), it'll gently turn itself off, leaving you to drift off.

Skip the shower, grab a book, and unwind with a glass of wine thanks to this swivel bath tray. No phones allowed.

Art therapists often use dough to help people manage anxiety and depression. If you can't afford a therapist right now, invest in your own therapy dough that will be there for you to squeeze after work. Choose from either lavender,- orange,- or peppermint oil-infused dough.

Vitruvi's organic lavender essential oil belongs on every person's nightstand. The oil's calming scent is packaged directly from French lavender petals and is best used right before bed to assist in getting a good night's sleep. While you're at it, take a look at the brand's gorgeous oil diffuser, which comes in 10 different colors, and its bundle set.

Need to unleash your rage? There's a dammit doll for that. Avoid the massive hole in the wall and slam one of these dolls against your bed instead. (That's literally what they're made for.) Utilize this pack of three by gifting two to your best friends and keeping one for yourself.

Samantha Irby's hilarious 'Wow, No Thank You' will help take your mind off of everything going in the world—namely, living in the middle of a pandemic—with her brilliant, relatable essays about, well, being a person today.

Weighted blankets: The trend that became a bedroom staple, thanks to their legitimate anxiety-fighting powers. This cozy, affordable version by YnM has 3,650 five-star reviews to its name on Amazon.

The follow up to the original 'The Little Book of Mindfulness' is practically a meditation class transformed into a mini book. It's a reminder to slow down, pay attention to your breathing, and be present. Take it one day at a time.  

It’s not so surprising when you consider that I’ve been seeing physical therapists and occupational therapists for as long as I can remember. I was diagnosed with juvenile rheumatoid arthritis, or RA, when I was just two years old, which means I don’t remember a time when the struggles that come along with an RA diagnosis  weren’t  a part of my life. Rheumatoid arthritis is a chronic inflammatory disorder affecting many joints, including those in the hands and feet, and it can cause painful swelling, and in severe cases it even can attack internal organs. 

As anyone with RA will tell you, the disease will humble you. I dealt with bouts of intense pain that made it hard to find any semblance of normalcy throughout my childhood and young adult life. I really struggled socially in college, because my symptoms sidelined me from much of what my peers were doing. So when I found my calling as an occupational therapist and pursued that path, it was a game changer. I realized that I could do something that would help other people who were struggling with similar challenges to my own.

The pain becomes debilitating

For 10 years, I worked as an occupational therapist in an outpatient setting at a nursing home. I truly loved every minute of my job. I was in remission at the time, and I was young and healthy enough that my RA never got in the way of my work. 

But like most people with this chronic condition, the medication that had helped me get into remission stopped working as effectively. Over time, my symptoms started to creep back with a vengeance. I’m talking about extreme swelling in my joints, to the point where it looked like there were two grapefruits under my skin where my knee bones should’ve been. And along with debilitating pain came extreme fatigue—a combination that didn’t exactly make my hands-on job easy. I even had a colleague suggest I use a walker to get around because I was struggling so much.

A few days later, I had a doctor’s appointment and I mentioned to my doctor that it was becoming really challenging to work. Her mouth gaped open. “You’re working?” she asked. “No. You can’t work right now.” 

And she was right—soon after, my RA became too much. I had to give notice at my job and I went on disability. 

While being forced to take a break from work may sound great, it’s not. I was devastated. When you have a job to go to every day that fulfills you, it adds so much to your life—even if that job isn’t perfect. So when that’s taken away from you, it’s like you have this hole you’re constantly trying to fill. I’ve come to learn that there are lots of misnomers around people on disability; the truth is that many of us who are disabled really do want to work.

Figuring out a way to pivot

In the moments when I had a reprieve from my pain, I did a lot of thinking about what I loved most about being an occupational therapist What I realized was that education was a big part of it, and helping people help themselves— even if I couldn’t work in a therapeutic setting. What’s more, the most meaningful interactions I had with my patients almost always happened when I shared with them that I too live in pain, and understood what it was like to walk in their shoes. 

I discovered that I could still do this work and take care of my body by writing about my illness. I started freelancing for RheumatoidArthritis.net—an online community for RA patients and caregivers to learn, educate, and connect with peers and healthcare professionals—and used the experiences I had as an RA patient to help others by giving them tips and tricks that worked for me along the way. I also wrote two books: A Resilient Life: Learning to Thrive, Not Just Survive, With Rheumatoid Arthritis and True Health: The Inside Job.

My advice for those derailed by a chronic illness

Having to give up the career I loved so much and pivot to a completely new one wasn’t easy, and I learned some hard-won lessons along the way. When people ask me for advice on managing RA in the workplace, here’s what I tell them.

1. Learn how to advocate for yourself.
   • The fact is that when you have RA or another chronic condition, you will very likely need some special accommodations to tee yourself up for success. And the more you’re able to acknowledge this and be up front about your physical needs with your manager, boss, and coworkers, the more sustainable your career can be.
2. Remember that flexibility is helpful.
   • I often tell people that RA is always one step ahead of you, which means you not only have to ask yourself how your body is doing today but also anticipate how you will feel tomorrow, and the next day. If you have a job that offers some flexibility, you’ll be better able to adjust your work and schedule as needed.
3. Prepare yourself for some trial and error.
   • In an ideal world, you’d know exactly the kind of work and work setting that would help you shine. But in reality, living with RA means there will likely be a bit of a learning curve. So ask yourself some questions: Do you need to work from home part-time? Would having every Friday off give your body the extra recuperation time it needs? I’ve learned I need what I call a “speed bump” in the middle of every day, when I lie down for an hour. This took me a while to figure out—and the aha moment came after years of pushing myself too hard and dealing with more pain as a result. But now that I know it’s what I need to do to thrive, I make sure to take that speed bump break every day.

Rheumatoid arthritis is the kind of disease that takes so much from you. But it’s amazing when you find a way to give back to yourself. And what I know for sure is that pursuing your passions and doing work you truly care about can do that, even if it has to shape-shift over the years.

“I had to make some profound changes to cope.”

Radiologic technologist, Macy Owen, was only 22 when she was diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis (RA), an autoimmune disease in which the immune system attacks healthy cells in your body, causing painful swelling wherever it strikes (usually in the joints and, often, many at once). Knowing that lifestyle plays a part in helping to manage and minimize flares, she overhauled her diet, exercise, and sleep regimens. She now gets at least seven and a half hours of shut-eye a night; focuses on activities like yoga or Pilates that she enjoys so exercise is more of a like-to-do rather than a have-to-do; and she follows a nutrient-dense plant-based diet. 

The incentive to stay on track is powerful for the now 27-year-old, living in Knoxville, TN. “When I have an off day and go crazy on chocolate, the joint pain can be so intense that it wakes me from a dead sleep,” says Owen. “I also notice it first thing in the morning. My stiffness lasts double the amount of time it normally does.”

Granted, she has to work a little harder to do some of the things she used to do without hesitation—whether it’s opening a jar or running a mile—but she reminds herself of all the things her body does allow her to do. “RA may be chasing me,” she says. “But it will have to catch me first.”

“I ground myself in rituals like journaling, meditation, and reading.”

Shivika Sinha, 36, of San Francisco, CA, spent the early days of the pandemic bedridden, but not for reasons having to do with COVID-19. She was in the final trimester of her first pregnancy, and was experiencing intense pain—the result of what she learned was pubis symphysis dysfunction. This condition occurs when the pelvic joints become stiff or move unevenly causing pain that can affect your mobility. Therefore her doctors ordered bed rest for her final weeks. To make matters worse, she was simultaneously trying to keep her just-launched business afloat. (She’s the founder of Veneka, a sustainable, ethical, and cruelty-free wardrobe styling service.) 

Even after giving birth, Sinha’s discomfort persisted. “I was in chronic pain my first year postpartum. My pelvic issues caused constant sciatic pain, lower backaches, and more, ”she says. Nursing both a newborn baby and a business in its infant stages didn’t automatically take her mind off the shooting pain that radiates through her body with even the slightest movement. So she put into practice a simple, but effective strategy. “Each day, I made it my intention to be present with joy, love, and stillness,” says Sinha. “From my baby’s giggles to small wins at work, I savored such moments as a reminder that daily life is magical and more beautiful than pain.”

“I've learned to become a medical detective, tracking symptoms and my behaviors.”

Sonia Frontera, a 57-year-old attorney in Lambertville, NJ doesn’t have just one chronic condition; she has several. These include a rare autoimmune disorder called relapsing polychondritis that causes pain and swelling of the ear, nausea, and dizziness; chronic migraines; and myofascial pain syndrome that causes tinnitus, or TMJ, and neck and wrist pain. Imagine having “a head full of crickets while your eyeballs are being pierced with an ice pick” and you’ve got an idea of the pain Frontera experiences on a regular basis. 

Yet as bad as the physical symptoms are, it’s the emotional aspects of living with chronic pain that she finds most difficult. “When your condition is ‘invisible,’ people often dismiss your symptoms as hypochondria,” she says. “Being misunderstood and judged can be devastating.” Over the years, she’s learned to be her own healthcare advocate. Her advice to others experiencing chronic pain? “Be a medical detective,” she says. “Keep track of your symptoms and try to correlate the symptoms with your food intake, activities, or moods.” Then share that info with your healthcare team.

“It’s hard for others to understand what it’s like to live with pain every day.”

For 20-plus years, chronic pain has been Lacy Smith’s constant companion. The wife and mother of two, based in Phoenix, AZ, was diagnosed with psoriasis, a skin disease that causes red, itchy scaly patches, and interstitial cystitis, a painful bladder condition. To help the people in her life understand what that’s like, she uses what’s known as the spoon theory. “I have only a certain number of spoons each day—each spoon represents a certain amount of energy or mobility,” explains Smith, who is now 39 and works as a physical therapy assistant. “Some days I wake up with one spoon; some days I wake up with 15. I have to divvy those up each day depending on what I wish to accomplish.” For instance, “if I have something important to do with my family, I need to make sure I save all my spoons for that event or the rest of my day could be shot.” Structure and schedules are key. “It took me years to figure out that trying to keep my schedule completely open left me more opportunity to overdo things,” she says.

All of BetterMe’s programs were designed by experts to shift the way you feel about your body, about food, and about what healthy looks like for you. It’s never going to suggest restrictive diets or arbitrary weight-loss goals, because crash diets and exhausting workouts aren’t merely unsustainable bummers—they just really don’t work. Instead, BetterMe knows that taking those first steps toward living healthier is more of a mental challenge than a physical one. That’s why BetterMe: Health Coaching is a program that’s designed to work over 6 to 12 months, to make sure that you’re creating lasting changes in your habits. BetterMe is an easy-to-use, totally personalized way to help you tap into the conscious decisions that you can make every day to live a healthier life. 

Diet and exercise are the most obvious ways to start feeling healthier, but BetterMe recognizes that they’re only part of the equation. BetterMe: Health Coaching uses psychology-based daily plans, which take about 10 minutes to complete and are full of interactive quizzes, diaries, and open-ended questions that help you reflect on your relationship with your body. Before you start working out or changing your eating habits, BetterMe recognizes that first you have to build up more self-compassion and love, challenge the negative voices inside your head, and overcome any resistance to your own goals. Foster mental well-being and you’ll be well on your way to physical well-being. 

BetterMe is not a weight-loss app. It’s a behavior-changing app—and it’s for everyone. Your personalized plan will include guided workouts and genuinely tasty, nutritious menus that are tailored to meet your exact needs and goals. No two people are alike, so BetterMe doesn’t try to put you into a box when it comes to your health. The app has workouts for prenatal parents, for users with limited mobility, and for folks who have never worked out before. Who needs a fitness app? BetterMe is an inclusive, judgement-free, self-love app. 

So whether you want to save it for January 1st or start your new BetterMe: Health Coaching plan today, this app is going to empower you to meet those goals by changing how you think about health. And Repa and her team are always coming up with ways to improve the app and your relationship to it, addressing more health concerns in newer, more inclusive ways. Self-improvement starts with self-love, and BetterMe can help. And isn’t “more self-love” the best New Year’s Resolution? 

Get started with BetterMe: Health Coaching, and visit BetterMe on Instagram at @betterme.health. 

The company sends the kits directly to your door (though if you're in New York State, only the COVID-19 test is available at this time), you register the kit and follow the directions included, then ship it back and wait for your results. Once the sample is received, it's run through a CLIA-certified lab and results are reviewed by an independent physician. Test results are then available for you to review on Everlywell's secure portal with personalized insights and action items available to help you figure out next steps. Overall, it's an easy and painless (okay, some of the tests do involve a finger prick!) process, and an amazing tool to learn a bit more about your insides. Below, check out some of the most popular kits included in the sale.

And, if you're wondering what makes this sleek version worth it, here's the deal: Rather than just focusing on your physical health, the Luxe takes your mental health into account, too. An in-app Stress Management Score tracks signs of stress and gives you a score—the higher your score, the better. It also tracks how well (or how lightly) you sleep at night, tells you how ready your body is for a workout with a Daily Readiness Score, and identities the best times for you to work out throughout the day based on your heart rate. Oh—and it lasts for up to five days on one full charge, so you don't have to worry about it dying on you mid-run. Here's to actually going on daily jogs in 2022.

A few weeks earlier, doctors at Mayo Clinic found small white spots called calcifications during a routine mammogram. After this was discovered, I had a biopsy at Piper Breast Center in Minneapolis. And then I got “the call.”

That was eight months ago—the start of a path that would include surgery and radiation, which also coincided with my dad’s illness and death. Of course this has been difficult at times, but today my doctors say that my chances of developing cancer again are no greater than the average person’s.

As we recognize Breast Cancer Awareness Month, I am thinking about the many Americans who may have breast cancer but not know it because they’ve been putting off physicals or routine examinations due to the pandemic, just like I delayed mine.

In fact, more than one in three adults reported delaying or forgoing health care because of coronavirus-related concerns. Every day, doctors are seeing patients who are being treated for more advanced conditions that could have been caught earlier.

So—what can we do about it? We must encourage preventive care.

It’s tough to make time to go in for a mammogram or routine health screening. So many Americans are juggling the competing demands of work, family, and their health, all while teaching their first grader how to use the mute button for Zoom calls.

But routine health checkups, exams, and follow-through are essential. By some estimates, thousands of people who missed their mammogram due to the pandemic may be living with undetected breast cancer.

Simply put, early detection saves lives. I’m grateful to have caught the cancer at an early stage and to not need chemotherapy or other treatments with negative side-effects. Since sharing my story, I’ve heard from people nationwide about their own experiences with cancer and the importance of preventive care, writing to me to say:

“I said then, and continue to say that I felt I was handed a box labeled ‘bad news,’ but when I opened it I found a bunch of smaller boxes, each one labeled ‘good news.’ I'm a poster child for early detection.”

“You have motivated me to go get my mammogram. I, too, avoided doing it due to COVID and found it so easy to skip it later, too. I’m setting it up tomorrow.”

Connecting with those across the country has been heartwarming—I’m humbled that people have felt comfortable opening up about their hardest days, tough treatment choices, and gratitude for life.

If there is one thing I have learned through this experience, it is that every day is a gift. This Breast Cancer Awareness Month, cherish that gift by putting your health first and taking advantage of preventive care services. Go schedule a doctor’s appointment—and then call your friends and cheer them on when they do the same. It just might save their lives.

Stephens is one of the many athletes—including Simone Biles and Naomi Osaka—opening up about how the intense pressure in professional athletics impacts a player's mental health. Speaking with Peloton’s Tunde Oyeneyin at a Mercedes-Benz event last week (Stephens is a proud Mercedes-Benz ambassador), Stephens shared how she once based her own choices on other people’s opinions or the public perception of her, which led her down a dark path.

“I’ve been in a place where it’s been dark and it’s been deep and it’s been sad," she said at the event. "I’m like, ‘I need to get out of that place. I need to take care of myself because it’s a cold world out here.”

So this year, instead of basing her self worth on other people's opinions, Stephens is prioritizing her own mental health and is doing what makes her feel best before stepping on the court—even if that means, yes, eating pizza right before play. She says something as small as eating the food you are craving can be empowering, on and off the court.

“It might not be the best food to eat pre-match, but it makes me happy and feel good," she says. "And sometimes your performance is based on you going out there and being happy.”

It's taking small steps like eating pizza—and larger ones, like speaking openly about her own experiences—that will truly move the needle. She’s hoping the chorus of voices demanding change in professional athletics will help protect up-and-coming athletes. “I’ve been saying it for years that we need to change the dynamic of how the tour is run and how these tournaments are played and how long we’re playing for," she said. "We play a season from January to November, which is unheard of. There’s no break...I think that younger athletes are not told enough that it’s okay okay to be sad, it’s okay to be happy, it’s okay to show your emotion. No one, I feel, in the sports industry is comforting in that.”

As a member of the Women's Tennis Association Players' Council, Stephens says she has fielded a lot of these types of concerns from athletes. "I think that obviously, we can do better to support each other," she said.

Stephens and Keys are leading by example. Though competitors, the two still find ways to support one another. In fact, Stephens shares how in the 2017 Open finals, Keys gave her sushi mid-match — a food Stephens often fuels with during play.

It's too soon to say if we'll see fish-swapping on the courts this year, but one thing is certain: by speaking out, speaking up, and giving herself grace, Stephens earns a win for athletes, everywhere.

I confided in him as soon as I knew with certainty that I had been accepted to Weill Cornell’s egg donor program, in the middle of one of our many long nights drinking wine and talking late on the couch in his Brooklyn apartment. He asked all of the right questions: about the individual or family I might be helping, how the process worked, and, most importantly, when he needed to pick me up from the hospital.

Arvin is not a morning person, but on the day of my egg retrieval procedure in December 2017, he set three alarms and took the train from Fort Greene to the Upper East Side to take me home. Here I was with the full support of my best friend, yet I still asked him to be careful about who he spoke to about my experience, to let me decide how and when to be fully open about it.

“Just let me tell them,” I said, without knowing exactly who “them” was, or if I ever would. In calls to my family and long-distance friends, I omitted the entire experience, hiding my initial fear of the hormone shots, skipping over the blood draws and ultrasounds at the daily doctor’s appointments, and even the post-surgery pain and bloating, which left me unable to walk quickly or lift anything for more than a week.

No one outside of my immediate circle ever needed to know, I reasoned, even though I had wanted to donate my eggs since the first time I heard about the process at age 19. After reading an article about a cancer survivor conceiving via a donor egg, I was certain that I wanted to help people create their own families; I also knew that having children was not in my immediate future, and that I was far more interested in moving to a studio apartment in New York and dedicating myself to writing than rearranging my life to accommodate a family. But even though I knew this about myself—knew it, in the same way I know my eyes are brown—other people were less accepting. When I told one family member that I might be interested in donating my eggs, just to test the waters, I was met with a lecture about “protecting my own fertility” and told to look up articles from women who regretted their egg donation.

It took five years before I felt brave enough to go ahead with the process anyway. I needed to listen to my own voice, not someone else’s. But in the weeks leading up to the procedure, I made the mistake of reading the comments on articles written by women who shared their experiences as egg donors. "How could you? I would never," someone always wrote. "Don’t you want your own kids? How do you think your future husband would feel about it?"

Women had an obligation, it seemed, to preserve our eggs only for the purpose of procreating with a hypothetical spouse. I hated this notion, but I still couldn’t shake the idea that what I was about to do would be viewed as wrong, or at least controversial, by people I knew and cared about. As my body healed from the 30+ injections and a dozen blood draws, the shame and guilt I felt did not.

That was when I started thinking about Angela.*

I met Angela in college. She's a sweet and round-faced blonde whose bubbly nature belied a serious, scientific mind. She’s also the first woman I knew who told me she’d had an abortion. She whispered it to me in the corner of a dark room at a loud college party and cast her eyes around to make sure nobody else heard. It was her right to want to keep the experience private, and I kept her confidence. Years later, what I remembered wasn’t the abortion itself, or the intimacy between us in that moment; it was the fact that she felt she had to hide this experience out of shame, fear of judgement, and fear of societal punishment, even though one in four women will have an abortion by age 45.

I felt connected to Angela when I donated my eggs, and wondered how in the 21st century women continue to feel shamed for the raw, gritty truth of their experiences with fertility: for miscarriage, abortion, egg donation, parenting, being childless by choice. There are so many ways to be a woman in this world, so many paths, and yet none of them ever seem to meet society’s standards. I wish that reflecting on Angela’s experience in this way had immediately triggered some sort of grand realization about becoming an egg donor. Instead, I tucked it away and pressed it somewhere into the back pages of my brain.

Then, in late 2018, over a glass of wine at a French restaurant, a coworker-turned-friend told me that he and his husband-to-be were thinking about starting a family. They were beginning to look for egg donors and surrogates, he added quietly, perhaps unsure what I would say. I grinned, immediately thrilled for him. Without even thinking about it I blurted out, “You know, I’m actually an egg donor. I think it’s wonderful.” He stood up to hug me across the table, and we pulled each other in.

After that, the egg donation process got easier to talk about, even just as a mention in conversation about pregnancy and reproductive choice. So many people were wonderfully supportive: It deepened some of my relationships, and even inspired another friend to become an egg donor, too. And while I cannot say that I never faced any judgement, what I can say is that over time the judgement mattered less and my story felt like it mattered more. I learned that there are thousands of births each year from donor eggs in the United States alone; this process touches far more people than I ever imagined, and I am proud to speak openly about it.

Now, every time I hear a woman shyly confess that she doesn’t want children, or when someone close to me starts IVF and goes through a similar process to the one I did—all of those needles, hormones, emotions, hopes—I want to remind her that she shouldn’t be ashamed to seek support from the community around her. That I, too, had those feelings, but sharing my experience brought me so much more insight, growth, and connection than hiding it ever could.

All people should have the ability to architect their families as they wish, to construct them thoughtfully and with love, based on what’s right for them deep down inside. There are so many different ways to do that. As an egg donor, I am lucky to have found mine. And if anyone wonders if my future husband would mind, you can ask him at our wedding this summer.

*Names have been changed.

"Simone has withdrawn from the team final competition due to a medical issue. She will be assessed daily to determine medical clearance for future competitions."

Though the exact medical issue is unclear, the 24-year-old seemed to have a tough landing and was spotted leaving the mat with one of the team's trainers. When she returned, she began cheering on her teammates on the sidelines as she watched them perform their routines. Biles's teammate Jordan Chiles replaced Biles on the uneven bars and the beam. The team ended up taking home the silver medal.

Olympian Laurie Hernandez, Biles's 2016 teammate and an Olympics analyst on The Today Show, initially emphasized on air that nobody should speculate about Biles's reported medical issue and encouraged Biles's teammates to continue supporting her no matter what.

Later on, Biles told The Today Show's Hoda Kotb that she's in good shape physically, but emotionally it varies, and she's unsure if she'll compete in the individual all-around competition this Thursday. "Physically, I feel good, I'm in shape. Emotionally, that kind of varies on the time and moment," she said. "Coming here to the Olympics and being the head star isn't an easy feat, so we're just trying to take it one day at a time and we'll see."

At a press conference that evening, Biles stated that she aims to focus on her wellbeing. "There's more to life than just gymnastics...we'll take it one day at a time and we're going to see how the rest goes."

A few days ago, Demi Lovato posted a beachy pic of her bikini bottoms with a very body-positive PSA:

Regardless of what society tells you these days... You don't have to have a thigh gap to be beautiful. It is possible to love your body the way it is. #fitness #health #acceptance #selflove

Amen. 

And as far as thigh gap obsession goes, sorry (not really) to break the news, but it's an unrealistic goal to aim for. Squats, lunges, and running won't increase the space between your thighs because targeted exercises help you tone muscle, not torch fat. And even then, muscle definition doesn't open your leg room.

Also, thigh gaps are primarily genetic. Some people are born that way, but for most of the population, this isn't a look you can—or should—strive for. There's no one "perfect" body out there.

Bottom line: Screw the thigh gap. It's a bigger fantasy that anything E L James could imagine.

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The end of the highway had no railing. All Raven Saunders could see when she drove past it on her way to campus every day was a huge drop-off into an abyss. In her head, she had gone through all of the different scenarios for ending her life—pills, her .22 long rifle—but had never followed through. The depression came and went in waves, but one morning before school in 2018, two years after she placed fifth in the shot put at the 2016 Rio Olympics and seeped into a deep depression shortly after, it became too much. By 11 a.m., she finally forced herself out of bed and got in her car in a daze, thinking to herself, I don't even care anymore. She drove past all of the places she needed to go and headed toward that long highway in Oxford, Mississippi. The one with no railing.

"In my mind I was like, there's nobody that I can talk to. But I was like, I'll hit up my therapist and let her know where my mind is," explains Saunders. At that point, the then-21-year-old hadn't talked to that particular therapist for about eight months. (She'd found a new one since then, but hadn't seen that person for about three months.) The old therapist was the only person who knew about everything she was dealing with from school to relationships to her childhood—things some of the closest people in her life didn't even know. "I was like, if she doesn't respond or if it's the wrong number or whatever, then it really doesn't matter. Then I'll go ahead and do what I need." The way Saunders saw it, she had two options: Make a right before the intersection and go home, or make a left where the drop-off is. Her phone buzzed two stoplights before the turn.

In that life-changing text, the therapist assured Saunders she would get her the help she needed. Saunders went home and not long after, her assistant athletic director called, asking her to come into the office. "I remember going into the office, breaking down crying, and pretty much explaining a lot of stuff and how I was just like over everything. I didn't want to do this anymore," Saunders says. "They sent me to the hospital. And then from there, I went to my first mental health facility and I got some help."

Saunders started to understand more about herself, including certain memories she suppressed, and was able to face them in an environment where she didn't have outside distractions, like school or track or tying her performance to her worth. "I was very blessed and fortunate for that because I know that a lot of people may not have access to that or have a large support system that can get them the help they need before it's too late," says Saunders. "And that's really why I go so hard, especially behind mental health."

Her treatment eventually motivated her to start lifting and doing drills again in preparation for the next challenge: the Tokyo Olympics. Ahead of the Games, Marie Claire spoke with the 25-year-old athlete about finding her purpose in the off season, what she's looking forward to the most about the Games, and her advice for others struggling with their mental health.

Marie Claire: There's this misconception that people who struggle with their mental health can wake up, get help, and suddenly they’re okay again. And that's just not the case—your story is proof of that.

Raven Saunders: When a lot of people read my story or look it up it seems like, "Okay, I got help and now I'm healed." That's not the case because this journey is very difficult. I dealt with a depressive episode a few months ago that lasted about a month. The one before that lasted maybe two months. It definitely comes back. But now I know certain triggers or certain signs, like I'm not calling my parents as often as I should or not really going outside. If I'm constantly sitting in a dark room. Or just even with my emotions, like if I feel constantly drained. I learned certain things about myself in the midst of all the turmoil. It helps me come out of it faster or at least have the support around me. I don't feel like I'm dealing with my depression by myself.

MC: Many people struggle with tying their identity to their work or performance. How do you continue to excel at the sport you love without it defining you?

RS: I've always prided myself on being a hard worker, but also understanding that I have to have fun with it. That's why you'll see me dancing and things. I feel like I dance pretty much after every meet now. Good or bad. If it's too terrible, then I'm like eh, but I don't take it personally now. Beforehand, I would have sulked and sat on certain performances and things like that, but I've been able to brush certain performances off. And, in the good times, really embrace and enjoy them. Beforehand I'd be like, "What's next? What's next? What's next?" instead of appreciating being in the moment.

MC: Was there ever a thought that you wouldn't compete in Tokyo once you decided to train for it towards the end of your stay in the mental health facility?

RS: No. Especially after I had my hip surgery [in 2019], I was really distraught because I was like, "Man, the Olympics are next year. I can't even walk on two crutches." I couldn't even sleep on my side or my stomach at that point. Once I started physical therapy, I just started attacking everything so hard because it's like, I have to do this. I have to get it done. Back in April, I actually tore my right labrum, so my opposite hip, and it's torn worse than what my left was. In that moment, it was weighing on me. But talking to some of my close friends, I remember calling one of them—Gwen Berry, actually. I called her and I broke down crying. But at the end of the conversation I was like, "I know God and the universe hasn't put me through everything I've been through just to stop me now." I feel like this is just another challenge that I have to overcome to get to what I say I want.

MC: Being on a high in Rio and then coming down from it afterwards, I imagine training again can be a little triggering. How are you managing your mental health currently? Do you have any fears about what will happen after Tokyo?

RS: I don't. And that's one of the things that I learned. I know my depression comes and goes, but I'm not focusing on when my next episode will be. If you're constantly looking over your shoulder, you're going to force something to happen. I do check-ins with myself on the daily or at least every other day, just making sure like, Are you good? How's your mental health?

I really feel like this time around, I'm in a so much better space mentally, physically. Especially sharing my story, there's so many more people now that know the trials that I deal with. And I have friends that from time to time are checking on me, like, "Hey, you good? Everything okay?" And then the friends that I am around, they've been able to sense when my depression comes. They can tell sometimes before I even can, like, "Okay, you're depressed." It's just nice having that type of support system.

MC: Recently, Naomi Osaka has advocated for better mental health care in the sports world and beyond. As a fellow athlete competing in Tokyo, what has it been like to see her speak out?

RS: Honestly, it really warmed my heart because Naomi has a broader reach than I have, especially on a world stage. And I was so happy that she had the courage to go against the grain. Also, being a Black athlete...like if this was 10 years ago, 15 years ago, and Serena [Williams] or Venus [Williams] was like, "Hey, I need a mental health break" they would have been dragged through the mud months on end. But I'm just happy that [Naomi] was able to take that time and still have enough support and love from the world, like, "Okay. Take that time for yourself, whatever. You have plenty more Grand Slams ahead of you." Before we're athletes, we're people. And it's just nice to see that there are more athletes, especially nowadays, that are taking care of their mental health.

MC: What are you most looking forward to in Tokyo?

RS: The experience this Olympics will be very un-Olympics like. I remember at Rio it was just like a huge...not necessarily a party, but it kinda was because you were around so many athletes all the time. You got to interact with everybody. You could just stop somebody and be like, "Hey, look. What sport do you do? What do you compete in?" And I feel like to a degree we'll have that. But there's going to be no spectators. There's going to be no friends or family. Even the coaches are limited. And there are so many athletes that even now have to go out and compete without their coach, without their family, and without fans, which is completely the opposite of what the Olympics has always been.

But what I'm looking forward to the most is the actual competition, because that's the biggest thing. I feel like it may be the best Olympics because, in all actuality, a lot of people will come in and treat it like a practice. It'll be a lot easier for certain people to put their best performances ahead because all year you're competing in front of fans and then you go to the biggest meet of the year and there's nobody. So you're just like, "Okay."

MC: For our readers who aren't familiar, can you tell them what the shot put entails?

RS: In the shot put for women, we throw a four-kilogram ball, which is roughly nine pounds. The men compete with a 16-pound ball, so almost double what we throw. There are a few different techniques to it. I'm a spinner. On the women's side, we have a lot more gliders. The glide is more of a linear movement. It looks like a spin, but there's also a lot of linear force that goes into it. It's not a beauty contest. It's not a judging contest. It's literally who can throw the furthest while staying in the ring. I think my throw takes about a second to a second and a half, if that.

MC: Any advice you'd give to fellow athletes who may be struggling with their mental health right now?

RS: The thing that I would tell them is to seek help, and that you sometimes have to make yourself uncomfortable. I know a lot of times when you're depressed, you feel alone and you don't understand certain things. But if you do the work and you continuously try while you're in the midst of your depression to do certain things and do different things, to push yourself and constantly give yourself positive affirmations. If you're feeling down and you're feeling depressed [remind yourself], "I am worthy." That's one of my favorite affirmations and I repeat those things three times over: I will succeed. I will succeed. I will succeed. I will win. I will win. I will win. Just constantly reaffirming yourself of your words so as your mind is constantly trying to beat you down, you can fight that.

If you or a loved one are in crisis or experiencing thoughts of suicide, text the Crisis Text Line (text HELLO to 741741) or call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-TALK (8255). Both services are free and available 24 hours a day, seven days a week.

We spoke with three women who know firsthand just how big that financial toll is. Consider their stories a reminder that you never know what life may throw at you when it comes to your health. It’s never too late to learn more about your health insurance coverage (especially if you’ve recently started a new job!) or start an emergency fund to pay for unexpected medical expenses.

Shelling out cash in search of a solution

When Shelley Smith, 38, started feeling fatigue and joint pain right after her son was born 11 years ago, she didn’t know what was going on. “I bounced around from doctor to doctor for a year-and-a-half until I was finally diagnosed with [chronic] Lyme disease,” she says. Shelley was ultimately also diagnosed with fibromyalgia (a condition that causes widespread pain throughout the body) and hasn’t been able to find a treatment that works consistantly. “I’m never not in pain,” she says. “Sometimes it gets worse because I am too physically active; sometimes it gets worse for no reason.”

As a result, she’s gone down a path of trying to figure out what will help her feel better—something that costs a lot of money. “I joke that I have a $40 monthly heating pad budget because I use them so much and need to constantly replace them,” she says. “I also spend $30 to $40 each month on electrodes for a pain relief device I use.” On top of that, she spends $30 a month on pain creams and Epsom salts, which she bathes in almost every night to help her muscles feel better. “In the past, I was doing monthly massages because my muscles got so tense with the pain, but they were $100 each, and I had to give them up,” she says.

And then there were the supplements. “I’ve spent so much money to see if certain diets or vitamins would make a difference,” Shelley says. “At one time I was spending $200 to $300 a month on a supplement program because I was so desperate to find an answer.” All of that is on top of traditional medical expenses. “I am very lucky and have very good insurance, but I still spend between $6,000 and $8,000 a year on co-pays and lab fees,” she says.

As much as she’s already spent, Shelley knows she isn’t done searching for the thing that will finally keep her pain at bay. “I think people just don’t realize how much it costs to reduce your pain,” she says. “You’re always trying to find something that might work.”

Drowning in medical debt

It ended up being a blessing that Angela Lundberg, 42, got her rheumatoid arthritis diagnosis when she was only 18 years old. Because she was still on her parents’ health insurance plan, she was able to get the help she needed without worrying too much about finances. But once she hit 25, she was on her own. “I was doing temp work and didn’t get health insurance through an employer,” she says. “And because of my preexisting condition, I could only find a coinsurance plan.” This means that not only was the monthly premium high, but she also had to pay for a percentage of all her medical care. As a result, she found herself in tens of thousands of dollars of debt.

“I had to constantly decide if I was going to get the medication or treatment that I needed. [I knew if I] put it all on my credit card, I wouldn’t be able to pay it at the end of the month,” she says. “And after I turned 25, my [new] insurance didn’t even cover things like physical therapy, which I need.” It wasn’t until the Affordable Care Act passed in 2010 that Angela’s finances started improving.

She was able to get a better plan (her pre-existing conditions no longer were a barrier to getting approved for insurance) and, in 2016, qualified for Medicaid when it was expanded. “I’ve been able to get my credit card debt down to $10,000, and I’ve worked hard to get my credit score back to a good place,” she says. “But this medical debt has made a huge impact on me.”

Draining the FSA to fight pain

It takes Adina Felton, a 42-year-old contracting officer for the U.S. Department of Transportation, a few breaths to list the various diseases she has that cause her chronic pain. “I’ve had lupus and fibromyalgia since I was in my 20s, and for the past three years I’ve also had a rare form of epilepsy that causes daily headaches and migraines,” she says. “I also have scoliosis, where my back is curved like a ‘C.’ Basically, I’m in pain every day.”

Adina manages her symptoms with both traditional and holistic solutions. For example, she pays for unlimited Pilates classes, which comes to more than $200 a month. “I love it because it’s gentle on my joints and strengthens my small muscles while also realigning my body,” Adina says. “It really helps with managing my muscle and joint pain.” At one point she did 12 weeks of acupuncture (partially covered by her insurance) for a total cost of $480 but stopped when she realized it wasn’t helping her overall pain levels go down.

Adina also regularly sees doctors and takes meds to manage her health conditions. Since she has pretty good health insurance through her job, she is only responsible for copays when she goes to the doctor or refills her prescriptions. But that doesn’t mean they’re free. “I pay $65 a month for my pain medications and $40 every time I see a specialist,” she says. “But that’s a lot since I see a migraine doctor once a month, a rheumatologist every three months, a dermatologist for a rash caused by my lupus every three months, an eye specialist every six months (one of my medications affects my eyes), and a seizure doctor once a year.”

It’s easy to see how she maxes out the $2,750 she puts into her flexible spending account every year, but Adina doesn’t focus too much on the amount she spends. “This is all just something I know I have to do for myself,” she says. “I’m so used to it now and have learned how to work it into my budget—it feels like second nature to have these kinds of expenses.”

Avoiding socialization to pay medical bills

In the 13 years since being diagnosed with both rheumatoid arthritis and lupus, Leslie Rott Welsbacher, 35, has learned to live with both the pain and the cost of treating it. “I’m one of those people who gets a bill and pays it, but it’s definitely not easy,” she says. “When I was in grad school, I paid at least $10,000 over a two-year period [for various medical expenses], and I’m still not sure how I did it.”

Leslie has also had to shell out a lot of money for pricey procedures, like paying $3,000 for surgery on her right foot to help reduce pain associated with rheumatoid arthritis. “After a certain period of time, I stopped keeping track of how much I’ve spent because it’s so depressing,” she says.

Recently, it’s occurred to Leslie that almost all of her money goes to her medical bills. “I’ve done basically no travel for fun since my diagnosis—I’ve only traveled for work or for a health conference where my expenses were covered,” she says. “And I’ve limited socializing to help save money for the bills I know are coming.”

For Leslie, chronic pain has also impacted her career choices—something that has affected what she earns now. “At one point I wanted to be a journalist, but there’s no way I could work those long hours with my chronic diseases,” she says. “So then I got a PhD in sociology and wanted to teach, but a lot of my professors made me feel I couldn’t because of my illnesses. They told me I wouldn’t be able to survive the intensity of an academic career because I was sick. It was such an unaccepting environment.”

The discouragement of her professors and the reality of how exhausting it was to teach in front of a classroom of college students when she wasn’t feeling well convinced her to get out of academia—a decision she still struggles with today. “To spend six years in a grad program and not end up with a whole lot to show for it is sad and disappointing,” she says. “I’m now the compliance officer for a long-term community nursing company, but it’s not a job I love.”

These days, Leslie has much better insurance through her husband’s job but still can’t stop focusing on potential medical bills. “I’m pregnant, and it’s high-risk because of my diseases,” she says. “Without his insurance, I would have already spent $3,300 more for my care so far. If you’ve only ever had good insurance, you really don’t get what it’s like to always ask how much something is going to cost. I’m so grateful now for having good insurance—there’s just so much less worry.”

In the rare instance that I did sleep over somewhere, I would inevitably jolt upwards at 5 a.m., panic-stricken, and scavenge for my belongings in the dark. Whether I recovered my candy-colored Hanky Panky underwear depended not on how lightly Guy X snoozed, rather how quickly I stirred another sleeping giant—my thoughts. More specifically, my violent, murder-y thoughts. You see, whenever I awoke to find a man innocently slumbering beside me, my mind always alerted me to the fact that if I wanted to, I could kill him.

What's to stop you, Jessica? It is not totally out of the realm of possibility. What if you lost all control and in one swift motion, you ended this poor guy's life?

Who is this girl, Dexter with blonde balayage? It's a fair question, and one that I posed to myself many times, but in actuality I was struggling with what I had yet to understand as Harm Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, a form of OCD in which you are flooded with intrusive thoughts or fears of hurting those around you.

An estimated 2.3 percent of Americans have OCD, but the percentage of those with Harm OCD is unknown, at least partly because intrusive thoughts are so offensive, they prevent many sufferers from coming forward.

By definition, intrusive thoughts are unwelcome, involuntary thoughts or images that are violent or inappropriate in nature. In my case, this translated to full-blown Tarantino musings—with a millennial slant—and they could strike at any time or place, often targeting the things I most value. I am a hopeless romantic, so date nights were a particular trigger, but the onslaught didn’t stop there. Coffee with a coworker led to visions of me throwing a scolding-hot matcha latte in their face. Fashion week reporting resulted in imagining a stiletto heel plunged into a model's eye. And brunch with a new friend never failed to end in broken Mimosa glasses and a bloodbath. Check please.

Although everyone experiences troubling thoughts—85 percent of the non-OCD population admits to having violent thoughts on occasion—when they happen to someone with an obsessive brain like me, the outcome is persistent and paralyzing. The harder you try to make the thoughts stop, the stronger they come on. I relate the experience to a pesky pop-up window—close one, and a hundred more appear.

Still, it didn't stop me from straining to close the metaphorical windows by any means necessary. Each time invisible gore splattered in my field of view, I would retreat to a restroom stall, the color drained from my face, and pull my hair until the pain distracted me from the bad thoughts. I would repeat silent mantras over and over: "You are not a psycho-killer. You are not going to snap. You are a good person." I Google searched characteristics of murderers to prove I was not one. It would take me many years to recognize that these behaviors are compulsions.

In his book Overcoming Harm OCD, psychotherapist Jon Hershfield explains, "A compulsion in Harm OCD is anything you do, mentally or otherwise, to try to convince yourself that you did not, will not, would not, and are not harming people." They range from "avoiding things, activities, or people that trigger thoughts of harm" to "engaging in superstitious behaviors to ensure that no harm will take place" and even "mentally reviewing memories to assure yourself that no harm could have been done." A person with traditional OCD may check to make sure they didn't leave the stove on, while someone with Harm OCD will revisit a location to make sure they didn't kill someone.

Detrimental as these habits are, they're deceiving in that they do offer a small dose of relief, however fleeting, and that feeling keeps sufferers coming back for more. That's where the repetition part of OCD comes in, which rapidly devolves into a time consuming and taxing chore. My personal brand of compulsions varied, but the most common one I implemented was avoidance: When I realized romantic situations were riddled with land mines of harmful thoughts, I opted to avoid relationships altogether. Hence, my penchant for hooking up.

People in my circle eventually caught on. At 28, my family wondered why I never brought home a boyfriend. My dad asked on more than one occasion if I was gay. (The supportive sentiment was appreciated.) And a former boss once declared, "Jessica doesn't drink, she doesn't smoke, but she loves her sexy time." I played along and leaned into the role, explaining away my perpetually unattached state as a means for exploring my options and having fun. It was easier to be a Carrie Bradshaw, after all, than a Carrie.

And then, I fell in love.

Michael—a wild-haired, gap-toothed, guitar-player from Boston—and I met at a dive in Los Angeles's Echo Park, and I knew instantly that I cared about him too much to ghost him. On the contrary, I badly wanted to explore our potential. Thus began an internal dance of bargaining. How deep could our connection get before intrusive thoughts took over?

It turns out, not very. For each butterfly-filled date we shared—a trip to a Robert Mapplethorpe pop-up at LACMA, a stroll through Greystone Mansion Park, an evening out in support of his band residency at Hotel Cafe—there was a nightmarish consequence.

What if you strangle him in Mapplethorpe's bondage? What if you push him over this towering balcony? What if you bludgeon him to death with a Rickenbacker?

As my feelings for Michael and day terrors blossomed in step, I ramped up my attempts to neutralize them, determined to make us work. I started hiding sharp objects out of sight, avoided the news (lest a clickbait headline about a murder send me on a spiral), and attempted to counter grisly thoughts with happy ones. "Think: Poppy fields! Rothko sunsets! Taylor Swift! Bad Blood—Wait, no, scratch that." Michael would notice when I got quiet, and when he asked why, I improvised an excuse. My heart sank every time, knowing that I was creating distance between us and robbing myself of the present moment.

Eventually, inescapably, the intrusive thoughts hit a fever-pitch. We were house-sitting for a friend, and as we tucked into bed, I discovered a hunting knife on the nightstand. The blade, obviously meant for protection, blindsided me and ignited a massive panic attack.

I knew then I could no longer keep up the facade, this double life I'd concocted, with compulsions exhausting me to the core. I decided to open up to Michael.

Fortuitously, around the same time I caught an episode of the NPR podcast Invisibilia. Titled “The Secret History of Thoughts,” the show featured a newlywed man called "S", who described an experience eerily similar to mine. While watching a violent movie with his wife, S was struck with the sudden, recurrent fear that he could stab her. By the end of the episode, the program gave his condition a name: Harm OCD.

A lightbulb went off, and I brought the podcast to Michael as a delicate way to segue into my reveal. After he listened, I clenched my sweaty palms, and posed: "You know how this guy is scared of hurting his wife?" He nodded, oblivious to where this was going. "Well," I gulped. "I feel that way too. I think I have Harm OCD, because sometimes I picture killing you."

"Hmmn." He furrowed his brow, unreadable. The silence that followed was unending. I was sure I’d sabotaged us, that I'd driven a stake through our entire future in the blink of an eye. The irony.

At last, he uttered, "Well... I'm glad I just signed a lease with you."

My stomach dipped. He let the sentence linger and then to my unimaginable relief, he cracked a smile. "Gotcha."

We both started laughing, which is something I desperately needed—to find the humor in the situation. Levity is easy to miss when you're lost in the macabre woods, but Michael showed me that mocking my thoughts could be a valuable tool (a philosophy later encouraged by my therapist). Soon after, with his encouragement, I sought professional help.

This wasn't my first attempt to consult a therapist or psychiatrist. Confessing to a stranger that you have murderous thoughts is an incredibly vulnerable and scary thing to do. Also, since there is not widespread awareness about my condition, some therapists I encountered didn't have the training to help me. I'd argue they threw me off-track. This is in part why the average time it takes someone with OCD to receive proper treatment is 14 to 17 years from the onset of symptoms.

Fortunately, I discovered OCD Center of Los Angeles. (The Executive Director, psychologist Tom Corboy, was interviewed on Invisibilia.) It was there I met Elena Fasan, a therapist who implements Cognitive Behavioral Therapy or CBT, and in a single one-on-one session the trajectory of my life changed.

As a screenwriter, I'm encouraged to hide Easter eggs in scripts, and meeting Elena felt like unearthing a giant golden one in my life. By remarkable chance, she was an Omaha native like me, she also had Harm OCD, and most crucially, she knew how to treat me.

Fasan confirmed my suspected diagnosis and welcomed me to her weekly group sessions. It was there every Saturday morning, in a Brentwood high-rise, that I grit my teeth in OCD recovery—er, maintenance (OCD is not something you can "cure"). Through tears and laughter, I shared my story with a motley crew of obsessives and learned about their own inner-demons. They ran the gamut from intrusive sexual thoughts (Pure Obsessional OCD) to the inability to get a song out of your head (motor-sensory OCD) and the fear of harming a newborn (Harm/Postpartum OCD). Unlike pop culture portrayals—narrow depictions of OCD as something that makes one a neat freak—their personal stories proved the disorder’s range and helped me feel seen. And here's the kicker. Remember all the years I strived to silence my thoughts? Fasan put her foot down on that practice. She taught me that if I wanted to effectively manage my fears, I must stop running away from them. I must run headfirst toward them with Exposure and Response Prevention therapy, or ERP.

"All variations of exposure therapy focus on the same core principle," Corboy says, "which is that those suffering from these conditions will experience the greatest reduction of their symptoms by repeatedly doing the very thing that most terrifies them, without responding with any behaviors that are meant to reduce or control their anxiety."

Under Fasan’s guidance, I built an Exposure Hierarchy chart, a list of personalized, anxiety-producing situations in order of severity. The chart organizes your fears so you may gradually expose yourself to them. For instance, if I was triggered by a scary movie on my Netflix home screen, my assignment was to add it to my queue. If watching an entire slasher film was too intense, we'd start with just the trailer. Eventually, I'd escalate to watching a documentary about real killers, and so on.

It's important to note that exposure should never involve anything that is actually dangerous. That is, a therapist would never instruct someone scared of stabbing someone to actually carry out the act (obviously), and that's where an "imaginal" comes into play. Corboy describes an imaginal as "the writing of short stories based on the individual's obsessive thoughts. These are stories based on the sufferer's scariest thoughts—their deepest, darkest OCD thoughts, taken to the worst possible outcome."

The process of ERP and imaginals is terrifying at first, because it is designed to spike your anxiety. The madness behind the method is that when you face a triggering situation and accept the unavoidable anxiety and intrusive thoughts that follow, instead of performing a compulsion, it creates a new neurological pathway. The offending thought becomes less important. Basically, your mental process goes from Oh my god, what if I snap and kill someone, and ruin their lives and their family's lives and my family's lives, and I'm a trending topic on Twitter, and everyone hates me forever? to Oh, that was a weird thought.

Exposure Therapy, however simple in concept, is one of the toughest things I've ever tackled. But, little by little, it effectively stripped my OCD of its power, and emboldened me to reclaim my life. In time, combined with other CBT tools (like mindfulness meditation) I stopped hiding knives and started actually using them to cut up food—what a concept! Finally, I reached the top of my hierarchy chart, which required me to keep a knife on our nightstand.

This straightforward task would have been previously inconceivable for me, but with eight months of therapy under my belt, and Michael's consent and cooperation—bless him—I conquered the assignment. I kicked that exposure’s ass.

Today I'm a few years into my OCD maintenance. I graduated from group therapy—which is the goal with CBT—and have the tools to keep my OCD in check. I recognize triggers and perform exposures on the regular, and with the advent of support groups moving online (a silver lining of the pandemic world), I am able to pop in for a touch-up when needed. I wrote a TV pilot, Obsessed, centered on a character with Harm OCD. Along with director Jennifer Kaytin Robinson (Someone Great, Sweet Vicious), we aim to bring representation to this underground mental illness—something that is majorly lacking in the media.

Michael and I just celebrated our five-year anniversary, and while the future of our relationship is uncertain, like all things in life, I am learning to embrace the present moment instead of worrying about all the things that could go wrong. Do we want to kill each other sometimes? Sure. But, that’s to be expected after more than a year in lockdown.

Obviously, the age of technology that brought us these apps has come with its own issues—but man, do these apps help you de-stress from thinking about them! Ahead we listed some of our favorite workout apps that require minimal equipment, give you actual results, won't blow the bank, and may even be taught by a celebrity or two. Get ready to get your sweat on.

Aaptiv

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If you're someone who loves a spontaneous workout, Aaptiv is for you. The app provides a ton of different kinds of guided audio workouts, from stair climbing and rowing to 5k training, and you can pick from different trainers. Some trainers are listed as "fun and supportive," some are happy to push you to your limit, and others will inspire you to hit a specific goal, whatever yours is.

8Fit

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One Marie Claire editor swears by 8Fit—so much that she cancelled her gym membership after she started using it. The workout and nutrition app helps you customize workouts, create meal plans, and provides a step-by-step nutrition guide to help you meet your fitness goals. Consider it an app dedicated to creating healthy habits.

Couch to 5K

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Couch to 5K's motto is quite literally “from the couch to the 5K finish line,” targeting beginner runners who want to train for their first race. The best part? It only requires sweating for 30 minutes per day, three days a week for nine weeks (that's not as much as it sounds, trust me).

P.volve

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Can't bear those painful, grueling workouts that leave you aching for days? P.volve might be for you. Billed as high-intensity but low-impact, these workouts are designed to strengthen your muscles safely over time.

MyFitnessPal

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Under Armour’s app MyFitnessPal is a three-for-one diet tracker, calorie counter, and exercise motivator. The app personalizes your goals based off of your body type and the food you’re eating. There’s about 5 million foods in their database to choose from so you’re not just typing in “chicken"—which means you can determine how many calories you're actually taking in and burning off.

All Out Studio

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The most respected fitness publications—like Women's Health, Men's Health, Runner's World, and more—brought together the best workouts in one place. Hundreds of exercises are featured on the app, and new ones are continually added, so you're never stuck in the same old routine.

Pure Barre

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The classic low-impact, high-intensity workout has a range of programs—with different times, intensities, and equipment. It's perfect if you love this type of exercise and want to do it while you travel. The instructors give specific insight on how to use a chair or wall for support, and you can do the exercises with water bottles instead of weights, a pillow instead of a ball, or entirely equipment-free.

Daily Workouts Fitness Trainer

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If you're in the offseason of your sport or looking to ease yourself back into a workout routine, this is a great place to start. Choose from over 500 workouts or spice things up by picking one of their 10 to 30-minute randomized full-body workouts to change up your usual sweaty habit.

Daily Butt Workout

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The largest muscle in your body, good ol' gluteus maximus, deserves some major TLC every now and then. Spend just five minutes of your day with one of their many free workouts as a certified trainer takes you step-by-step to help you get results in no time.

MapMyRun

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Created by Under Armour, MapMyRun tracks your run, providing audio progress updates in real-time. It's considered one of the O.G. apps for runners. Don't let the name fool you—this fitness app allows you to log over 600-plus sweat-filled activities from over 400 devices. No workout will ever be missed again!

AllTrails

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Outdoor workouts hit different, especially when you're on a good trail, sidewalk, path that's making your run or walk a breeze. Alltrails is the ideal app for the outside workout person. Choose from 100,000+ hand-curated trail maps from bikers, hikers. You name it. They even have dog-friendly and kid-friendly settings, so uh, score!

Yoga Down Dog

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Doing the same workout day after day can be dull, not only for your mind but also for your body. Down Dog is changing that by offering a brand new yoga practice every time you come to your trusty yoga mat. If you don't want new, feel free to choose from over 60,000 other options offered by the app's six teachers.

Kettle Workouts by Fitify

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You know that kettlebell sitting in your garage, back of your closet, maybe underneath your bed hiding in fear of the fact you don't know what to do with it? Fear no more! This app takes in a count of your skill level with the circular weight and gives you a bunch of quick video exercises to use with said weight. Get ready to feel the burn.

Pear

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Most fitness apps talk a big game of using voice technology to enhance your workout, but what if that voice actually did the exercise with you? Pear, a personal fitness coach app, features a real person working out alongside you. Whether you're running or in a downward dog position, someone is there with you in real-time, giving it the ultimate personal touch.

The Sculpt Society: Megan Roup

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Tons of A-listers flock to celebrity trainer Megan Roup to get their sweat on, so it was only time 'til she created an app. Choose from the app's huge library of workouts ranging from 5 to 50 minutes and see for yourself why fans of Roup consider it one of the most fun dance cardio and sculpting workouts they've ever tried.

Fitbod

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If you're all about the gains, look no further. Fitbod's primary focus is on strength-based workouts. The app plans your workout of the day from what you have nearby while using its training algorithm technology of past exercises you've completed. It's a helpful tool to make sure you never miss a leg day.

7 Minute Workout: Fitness App

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When you don't have the time to go hard at the gym, meet 7 Minute Workout. No equipment is necessary—just pick a video from their massive library of workouts, click play, and get ready to get fast results. There's a free trial period, but once it ends, it'll cost you $2.99/month.

MyZone

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MyZone features a heart rate accuracy of over 99 percent and uses the data they track from your workout to create personalized workouts. Whenever you're ready to move, the outcome will be infinitely better than the last time.

Endomondo

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Enjoy some friendly competition with friends as you each track each other's progress using Endomondo. Track your runs, walks, bike rides, and 60-plus other sports and strive to complete your personal best every week. The detailed data the app keeps track will help plan future workouts.

PIIT Pocket

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Cassey Ho, the creator of the wellness-driven blog Blogilates and one of the top female fitness channel hosts on YouTube, knows how to make sure you blow off some steam. Download PIIT Pocket, and you'll have free access to the Blogilates workout video library featuring over 400 different kinds of exercises.

FitOn

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If you find yourself off and on the fitness train, you'll love this app. All the workouts are free, meaning there's no long-term membership commitment. Browse by workout category, body part, length, and intensity, or choose by the amount of time you have. Have I mentioned there are workouts led by Gabrielle Union and Jonathan Van Ness? We're all in.

Openfit

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Throughout the day and night, live trainers are available on Openfit for 15-, 25-, or 40-minute sessions, guiding you through running, walking, HIIT, or strength routines that you can do without having to leave your apartment. No more excuses about not being able to find a trainer you like, either! There are plenty on here that are bound to be a fit.

Seven

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You may have heard of this concept, which rose to popularity several years ago as "the seven-minute workout." This app is an extension of that. The perfect workout for people who hate exercising/don't have a ton of time, Seven forces you to do tough exercises quickly and with barely any equipment: Think lunges, wall sits (a.k.a. a chair), and so forth. It's easy to take the exercises anywhere, and at the very least can serve as a quick workout between longer sessions.

Studio Tone It Up

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The community of women on Studio Tone It Up will guide you through workouts to get your body strong and toned, including yoga, cardio, barre, boxing, kettlebell, and strength training. New classes every week prevent you from getting sick of the same routine and the app even offers up daily moves to focus on if you don't have time to attend the 20- to 40-minute digital classes.

Yoga Wake Up

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While waking up can be a struggle, Yoga Wake Up might change your mind. Set an alarm for when you'll wake up, and the app will play a track that guides a short yoga sequence or meditation. It's the perfect way to start your day from the comfort of your own home.

Keelo

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Keelo is designed to leave no muscle behind when it comes down to your workout. Every workout is designed with you in mind; the app considers muscles you've worked on before, how long your workouts usually are, and how often you do them. You can do these exercises at home or at the gym. Either way, the app will be there with HD instructional videos along the way.

Ring Fit Adventure

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Maybe it's the endorphins talking, but I'm totally hooked on this one. It's technically a Nintendo Switch "exergame," not an app, but it works. Think of it as a cross between a workout video and a Super Mario game—you'll pick up tokens, power-ups, and health restoratives as you literally jog through different levels, pausing to zap bad guys by completing mini-workouts (think: ten squats in a row). The harder you work, the more rewards you get, and the more progress you make through the adventure. I'm the last person who would use a phrase like "addicted to exercise," but I am addicted to this game. (Also, the app can tell when you're tiring and gently encourages you to put it away for another day, which I appreciate.)

Ladder

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Ladder is great for anyone who would like to seek guidance from someone like a personal trainer, but doesn't have the time to access one in real life. The app will create custom workouts with a personal trainer for you based on what you're seeking.

NeoU

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NeoU is basically a streaming service for fitness. The app has a ton of videos, from HIIT, barre, and yoga to strength training. You can also take this app on the go by downloading episodes for later, if you're worried you'll be working out from a dead zone.

TRX

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By now, you've probably seen the trendy suspension workout, which makes use of your body weight and looks deceptively easy (it is not). TRX allows you to do the work at home, and the trainer is light and compact—it won't even take up much space, in other words. Plus, it syncs with an Apple Watch so that you can get updated, real-time results.

SworkIt

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Only have five minutes for a workout? No problem. SworkIt is designed to make sure your consistent with your workouts and therefore offers over 400 different exercises, so you get a good workout in on your own time.

ConBody

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A military-style fitness bootcamp run by an ex-con (hence the name), ConBody is as intense as it sounds—it's not an app, but it does offer remote workouts. If you love a challenge, this is the workout for you.

Mirror

It took until 2019, but you can finally buy a mirror that can help you work out! When the mirror is off, it's just your regular mirror. When it's on, you'll see yourself, your instructor, and your workout classmates in the reflection. All you need is the space of a yoga mat, and you'll never have to leave the house to workout again.

Obé

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It can get a little pricey—a subscription for the year is $200—but Obé offers a ton of different class types, and has 14 live classes a day. No matter what workout you feel like, you'll find your people and sweat alongside them.

Sweat with Kayla Itsines

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If you don't follow Kayla Itsines on Instagram, you've likely heard of her #BBG program. The Sweat with Kayla app is where the magic happens, allowing you to join a community of people across the world who are transforming their bodies. With an active subscription, you can use the app to follow daily gym-based or targeted workouts based on where you're at in the program, keep track of your progress, and connect with other #BBG members. Consistency is key.

Daily Burn

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If you're someone who's happiest working out in the privacy of their own home, give Daily Burn a shot. There are thousands of different workouts available, and it tailors your programs to your fitness level and goals. You do have to sign up for a paid membership, but there's a 30-day free trial.

Freeletics

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Freeletics is your best bet if you don't have easy access to equipment or a gym. The app offers users bodyweight workouts and more from five to 30 minutes for free, or you can pay $6.25 a month to throw in a training coach to the mix.

Zombies, Run!

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Are you someone who wants to run more often and for longer, but finds it kind of boring? This is the app for you. It's an immersive, long-term "exergame"—you guessed it, an exercise game—that makes you the protagonist of a story in which zombies are chasing you and you're trying to save humanity. This is as compelling as a really good podcast, and you'll forget you're even exercising.

Six Pack in 30 Days

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Strengthen your core with Six Pack in 30 Days, choosing which level of ab workouts you can handle and working your way up. No equipment is necessary, and it's suitable for even total gym newbies—the app demonstrates how to do classic core workouts like Russian twists and reverse crunches.

Butt Workout and Fitness App

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Do it for the booty. Hate doing butt exercises for a gym full of people to see? I feel you. This seven-minute butt workout has you covered with targeted methods for improving your glutes, like squats and donkey kicks.

Runkeeper

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Do you only want to keep track of your regular jogs and ensure you're improving gradually all the time? Try Runkeeper. The app is pared-down and easy to use, and diligently tracks your workouts, your progress over time, and your personal records. Perfect if you're looking to keep it simple.

Freeletics Bodyweight

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If you're still working on nailing the push up once and for all, Freeletics Bodyweight will help you build up muscle and tone your body. Big perk #1: You first undergo a fitness test to customize a weekly workout plan that's tailored to your body type and physical needs. Big perk #2: If you're stuck doing exercises in a cramped apartment, it has a 2x2 mode that provides workouts to fit a 2 meters x 2 meters space (NYC dwellers, this means you).

Strava

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Strava keeps track of running or cycling distance, speed, and endurance—especially useful for those hoping to compete in a marathon or triathlon in the near future (or at least dream about it). Compare your performance over time and share stats with friends on the app to give each other that extra push towards the finish line.

Runtastic

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Created by Adidas, Runtastic (yes, we know, the name is great) tracks your runs—but you'll also get audio feedback as you get those miles in. One of the coolest things about this app is that is tracks how many miles you put on a certain pair of running shoes, so the app will let you know when it's time to get a new pair.

Charity Miles

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Kill two birds with one app. Charity Miles allows you to donate to good causes while you burn calories. Sponsors like Johnson & Johnson, Chobani, and Humani donate a few cents for every mile you move biking, running, or even walking to charities like the ASPCA and Habitat for Humanity—even more incentive to lace up your sneakers and get to stepping.

Daily Ab Workout

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The free app Daily Ab Workout is one of the best ways to tone your core. Prop your phone up and watch fitness videos—it'll feel like the trainer is right in the room next to you counting reps.

Daily Yoga

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For those who want to be a little bit more zen on a daily basis and don't want to worry about falling over in yoga class while doing warrior pose, Daily Yoga offers a personalized coach and plenty of poses to choose from. There are also meditation classes available for people who want to de-stress and feel more focused.

Nike + Training Club

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Nike + Training Club is the ultimate app for fitness enthusiasts who want to experience an intense sweat session with a variety of options for their workout—so you never get bored. Choose from drills and audio guides from a professional Nike trainer, athletes like Serena Williams, or even stars like Ellie Goulding.

Relax Melodies

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So, you've done the cardio, the crunches, the planks, and even the downward-facing dog. What's next? Stretching and a good night's sleep for your body to recover. Relax Melodies allows you to cool down to a range of calming sounds including rain, wind, and white noise (i.e. not the sound of email alerts).

Fit Body

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If you're newly pregnant or well on you're well into your second trimester, this app is perfect for you. Or if you want something high intensity, they've got plenty of options for you, too.

Glo Yoga

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Get your zen on with this top-rated yoga and meditation app. Workout on your own or take a live class with other members in real time.

Gold's AMP Fitness and Training

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You guessed it—this app is brought to you by the people behind your local Gold's Gym. Now you can (literally) bring the gym home with you if you can't make it out of your house.

Peleton

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No bike, no problem! Peleton offers way more than just spin classes on their at-home fitness app. From HIIT classes to meditations, you can find the workout that best fits your lifestyle.

HIIT Workouts and Timer by 7M

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This app is perfect, no matter the level–even if you just want to workout for 15 minutes at a time. HIIT-style workouts break down your routine into four-minute intervals.

Tone it Up

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This app is top-rated when it comes to at-home workouts. It's woman-owned (the founders met at a gym in 2009) and have expanded into a massive woman-first community.

Adidas Training by Runtastic

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This running app syncs to your phone for Apple Watch to customize your running experience. Combine your run with one of their workout plans to meet your specific needs.

Peloton

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Yes, we all know you can use the Peloton app on a non-Peloton brand bike, but did you know that the app also has great strength, running, stretching, and HIIT workouts on it as well? Cyclist or not, the Peloton app boasts hundreds of workouts for every type of exerciser.

EQX

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Get a ~luxury~ gym experience at home with the the Equinox+ app, which features classes from the trendy gym, SoulCycle, Rumble, and more.

Alo Moves

Take your yoga practice to the next level with the help of Alo Moves. For $20 a month, you have unlimited access to new yoga routines, HIIT workouts, mindful mediations, and more.

Wild.Ai

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Wild.Ai is truly designed with women in mind. A personalized AI coach gives each user fitness, nutrition, wellness, and mental health advice based on their menstrual cycle.

This story appears in the Summer 2021 issue of Marie Claire.

Original Post: In 2019, track and field athlete CeCe Telfer became the first openly transgender woman to win an NCAA title (in the 400m hurdles, her signature event). Now, she's got her eyes on the top podium in the world—the 2021 Tokyo Olympic games. If she qualifies, she could become one of the first openly transgender athletes to compete in any Olympic event, ever. Even if she doesn't, Telfer is already making history. Outside of working tirelessly at her sport, she's using her voice to create change in the world of athletics, a world that has historically been riddled with discrimination and prejudice against trans athletes.

It's a reality Telfer knows all too well. Though her college track team at Franklin Pierce University was supportive of her running, as she shares in a profile for the New York Times, she struggled to find a coach who would guide her on her Olympic journey, as well as adequate training resources. She’s also been subjected to additional regulations: As mandated by the International Olympic Committee’s eligibility requirements, in order to compete, she had to suppress her testosterone levels and sustain them for at least a year.

Though there is little conclusive evidence to support the notion that transgender athletes have a competitive advantage in sports, it hasn’t stopped a recent wave of restrictive, anti-trans sports bans and laws (up to 80) across various levels of competition in the U.S. Earlier this month, Florida passed legislation that bars trans women from competing on women’s teams in public schools and colleges. The bans are discriminatory and stigmatizing to transgender athletes, many of whom just want to do what they love without constant comment and questions.

As Telfer told the New York Times, a huge motivator for her to compete is to empower young transgender athletes to chase their own dreams. “It’s important for me to do it for my people—whether it be women, Black people, transgender people, LGBTQ people—anybody who is scrutinized and oppressed.”

At this point, it's unclear whether or not Telfer will get the chance to compete at the Olympic trials, which begin tomorrow in Eugene, Oregon. (Her event is on June 25th.) To qualify to race in the trials, athletes must have a time of 56.50, and Telfer's best clocks in a second behind. However, due to pandemic-related training challenges, USA Track and Field has stated that as many as 28 athletes could race at trials; Telfer is 28th in the field.

Regardless of whether she races at trials or ultimately makes the Olympic team (she'd have to finish in the top three at trials), Telfer has changed the future of athletics. She’s one of a handful of openly transgender Olympic hopefuls whose journey serves as a source of inspiration for other aspiring athletes. (Just today, trans cycling athlete Chelsea Wolfe was selected as an alternate for the U.S. Women’s BMX Freestyle team.) Telfer is already lending her voice and sharing her story in hopes of creating long-lasting, systemic change in the world of both noncompetitive and professional athletics. She is working to make sports a safe space for everyone who wishes to compete.

Win or lose, Telfer is already blazing the track (and, trail!) for a more inclusive future. And that's something truly medal-worthy.

Financially, I wasn’t saving any money at the time and constantly felt stretched. The thought of adding another person to the list of people we would have to take care of seemed impossible. It really wasn't until our 30s that we even started thinking about kids. We got married at City Hall in 2015, and then it took another two years to throw a proper wedding party. I remember thinking, Oh my gosh, I need to be careful not to get pregnant because I don't want to be pregnant at my wedding party. In my head, it was this thing where we would have sex a couple of times, and then boom, I’m pregnant.

We had the wedding party in July in Hiroshima in 2017 and when we came back to the U.S., we were like, "Okay, let's really think about this kid thing." At that point, my company, M.M.LaFleur, had done its Series-B and it felt like we were on good financial footing. I was finally able to save a little bit of money.

A very close girlfriend of mine started seeing a fertility specialist at the time. I think she and her husband had been trying for about a year, and she said, "You know, there were some things I wish I knew in the beginning." She got diagnosed with PCOS. "I didn't know that until basically a year in,” she told me. “And I just wonder, had I seen a specialist first, could I have addressed this earlier?"

So I went to Fertility Clinic #1. The doctor kind of laughed, like, "How long have you been trying?" And we said, "Oh, we haven't been." And he was like, "Please go try for six months, and if you're still not pregnant, come and see me." But he added, "If you really want to run some basic tests, we can do that."

We felt like well, we're here, might as well. So we did some blood work, and all of that came back normal. There was one test that he wanted me to do at another office, a hysterosalpingogram (HSG), which tests for blocked fallopian tubes. That machinery is honestly the scariest thing I have ever seen. It felt like a scene out of the Handmaid's Tale—you put your feet into these leg suspender things, and then they lock it down. You're just like, What am I in for?

They pumped dye into my uterus and fallopian tubes. I thought, This is excruciating pain, and if pregnancy is anything like this, I don't know if I can do it. Afterwards, the doctor said, "You know, it was very weird. I could be mistaken. You should get it verified with an MRI, but I only saw one fallopian tube."

I don't know why, but I didn't think it was such a big deal; I just took the paper and went back to the office. Halfway through the day, I was in excruciating pain, and I just started sliding down the chair. I realized, Oh my God, I need to go home.

I left the office and was trying to hail a cab, and I collapsed. I was still conscious, but I was lying on the sidewalk. I managed to call [M.M.LaFleur Chief Creative Officer] Miyako [Nakamura], and said, "You’ve got to come get me." Three of my executives got into an ambulance with me. And I still remember one of my executives was holding my hand so tight. He told me, "You're going to be okay, you're going to be okay," and it was just... I think about it now, and I just don't know that many co-workers who will ride in an ambulance with you.

At the ER, the doctor said, "[What your doctor told you earlier] is a called a unicornuate uterus, and it's very rare. And it's often associated with infertility. So you probably want to follow up with someone about that." It was so strange to hear that from an emergency room doctor.

The months that followed that were pretty scary. All I heard was “unicorn.” So I was like, "I have a unicorn uterus." But what it essentially means is you've got half a uterus and one fallopian tube.

That was the moment when this "fertility journey" started. I was now part of the group of less than 0.2 percent of women who have a unicornuate uterus. It's kind of funny, because everyone was like, "You're fine, you're healthy. Why would you have problems getting pregnant?" And I discovered myself in this very, very surreal situation.

One of the biggest worries with unicornuate uterus is that you could get pregnant, but you tend to miscarry a lot in the second trimester or third trimester and have very early deliveries. The neonatal specialist we spoke to explained, "The question is, do you even want to get pregnant? It seems to me like you aren't going to be able to carry to full term anyway, even if you got pregnant. You might want to consider other options."

So basically, off the bat, we started thinking about surrogacy. We had a conversation with another fertility clinic in Connecticut, because New York state didn’t allow paid surrogacy. I think what made us think twice initially was that it's such a big thing to bring this third person into a part of your life that's so personal. We talked about it a lot, and we decided to try getting pregnant on our own.

I actually got pregnant in December. I was peeing on that damn pee stick every single day, and I was like, "I saw a line!" and I was so excited. Later, I was having lunch with a friend of mine, and our thing was usually to have wine during lunch; that was our greatest indulgence. But that day, I was like, "Oh no, I'm not feeling well, so I'm not going to have wine," and I felt like that was my first pregnant person thing that I’d done.

On my way back to the office from lunch, I could feel my period coming on. Some light bleeding is normal in the beginning of pregnancy, but as the hours went on, I kept bleeding more. I was like, "Oh, I know that this isn't it."

I think that happened twice or three times: I would get pregnant, but immediately miscarry—a chemical pregnancy. I remember two instances when I could feel the miscarriage happening, and both times, I was in the office. And there were these moments when it was like, do you get up and leave, or do you just stay? And I was like, I'm think I'm just going to stay. Probably the most natural thing would be to just... I don't know, go home, maybe?

I held on to those pregnancy tests for some reason. I mean, not for some reason. I now know why. I held on to them for three years, because it was somehow proof that I could get pregnant even if it wouldn't stick.

After that, we moved into IVF. I switched to Fertility Clinic #2 because I met a doctor there that I really loved. I started with her, and I did the first IVF cycle in February 2018, but they weren’t able to retrieve that many eggs. They got seven, but only four fertilized. The embryologist is checking in every single day; it's like you're getting a report card: "Okay, we got nine." And then the next day, it's down to seven. The next day, it's down to six. By the end, you're praying that there's one viable embryo left.

Ultimately, three came back genetically normal. We transferred the first and that failed.

The doctor said, "You said you have cramping during your period—I think you might have endometriosis." Sally Rooney's book Conversations with Friends was the first time I'd really learned about endometriosis. I knew so little about it. I remember my doctor saying, "There's very little that's known about endometriosis, because there isn't that much funding that goes toward women's health and women's reproductive health." The only way you can truly find out if you have endometriosis is by doing laparoscopic investigation. But she was like, "Before that, there's a test that you can do; it's very Wild Wild West."

I did that test and it came back positive, and so she was like, "Okay, you probably have endometriosis, so let's treat that. But before we treat that, why don't we do another egg retrieval?" So I did another egg retrieval.

The doctor told me, "You could either do the laparoscopic surgery, or we can inject the prescription Lupron Depot and shut down your reproductive system for two months, which could suppress the endometriosis. And then we would do a transfer immediately after you finish." I asked which one she would do, and she said the surgery would take me out from work for two weeks, “so it feels like it's easier if you start with the Lupron Depot." "Easier" I put in quotes, because basically what it does is puts your body into menopause. I had crazy hot flashes. Hottest summer I've ever had. You experience a lot of vaginal dryness; I had a lot of headaches. This was supposed to suppress the endometriosis, but we tried another transfer, and the same thing happened; it didn't work. At that point, she was like, "I don't know what's wrong. The embryos are good quality, and we ‘addressed’ the endometriosis problem."

She asked the head honcho of Fertility Clinic #2, "What would you recommend?" And apparently the consensus was that surrogacy was my best chance.

My doctor said to me, "There's an even deeper Wild West—there's some autoimmune stuff that you could try. This is really unproven science. This isn't something we do, but there are a couple of doctors. And it's hard for me to even recommend it. But if you want to continue trying, that's your next step." In the meantime, I'm doing acupuncture twice a week, taking vitamins, all of that.

These other doctors said I definitely had endometriosis, and should have laparoscopic surgery. "And then we're going to start to do IVIG, a type of blood transfusion, or, if your body is receptive to the cheaper drug, intralipids, which will be injected into your body via IV."

Of course, because this is the Wild West, neither treatment would be covered by insurance, and for IVIGs, we were talking about $3,000 per treatment per week, possibly over the course of multiple weeks. This is on top of the 10 other vitamins and drugs I was or would be taking, most of which I’d never heard of before: CDP-Choline, fish oil, NAC, iron, prenatal vitamins, probiotics, vitamin D, vitamin E, Homocysteine Resist, Ecotrin, Metformin, Prednisone, Lovenox.

It was just escalating. And I remember, I kept seeing this doctor because I felt like, Oh my gosh, this is my last hope. I remember seeing my psychiatrist at the time—my psychiatrist really never gives me her opinion. She's very good that way. But I remember her saying to me, "You're starting to do things that seem way beyond the scope of what you were ever intending to sign up for." And it's true. You kind of get tunnel vision. You just keep doing, doing, doing, doing, without really stopping to think. And I remember her saying to me, "Your intent was always to have a family. Not to get pregnant. Don't lose sight of the bigger goal here."

I was really not in a good place then. It had been a tough year business-wise. I felt like the company needed so much of my attention and my energy. And at the same time, if I looked at my calendar, almost every single day was some sort of doctor appointment. So it was like, okay, I've got like, seven hours of doctor's appointments this week, and I'm also trying to get this company back on its trajectory. I went back to Japan to see my parents for the holidays in December 2018, and I just kind of crashed.

My sister lives in Tokyo, and she went to see this fortune teller. And the fortune teller said, "You have an older sister with a bad uterus." So my mom was like, "We’ve got to go see this fortune teller." I was in such a discombobulated place, I didn't even know what my questions were. She asked, "What do you want to know?" And I said, “I guess I want you to help me figure out how I keep running my company with all the energy that's required, and then also figure out this fertility thing." And she responded, "So I think you're asking me what your priorities should be."

So she started to lay down her cards—four cards that formed a diamond shape. And she opened the fourth priority, and she said "The fourth priority, that is your work. That is your career." And I was like, "That's number four? Crazy, because that's all I do in my waking hours."

And then she said, "Number three: That is your fertility challenge." And I said, "That's number three? What the hell are two and one?" "Number two's your husband." And I was like, "My husband? My husband and I are just fine." And it's true. I think fertility…I know it can be really hard on the relationship, but for us, it only brought us closer together because I felt like I had so few people to talk to about it. And she said, "Well, maybe it's more broad then. Maybe it's your family, your friends. Maybe it's your relationships." I was like, "Okay, I guess that sounds right." And I thought, Well, I have no idea, then, what number one could be. Which, I sound so stupid when I say this now, but at the time, I thought, I wonder if it's world peace.

She opened card number one. And she said, "And number one... Number one is you."

I wish I could say that was the moment when I reached some new level of wisdom and decided to stop. But it's not true. I came back in January 2019, and I was scheduled to do my first transfusion. You do it at a chemotherapy center and they ask you to block out five hours during the middle of the day. And the day before, I was trying to reorganize my calendar, because I'm like, Oh my God, I have to find five hours somewhere, how do I do this?

And I realized, it doesn't fit. There's no way. I just cannot cram all these hours into a calendar. Which is actually such a metaphor for the broader things at play. So I canceled the appointment. And I remember the woman being like, "Oh are you going to reschedule? Do you want to look at next week?" And I said, "Nope, not going to look at next week. Never going to do it again."

That was when I called it quits. I also canceled the laparoscopy, and I spent the rest of the year not doing fertility, which was really what I needed. I said, "Okay, let's see if there's someone else who's willing to help us have a family." We thought about adoption for a while, and I still think at some point I would love to, but adoption has become quite hard, too.

I reached out to a girlfriend who I didn't really know all that well in college who had gone down the path of surrogacy, and she was so, so generous. There's definitely a sisterhood of women going through infertility, where there's a no-holds-barred, you-will-tell-every-piece-of-information-if-it's-useful [understanding]. So suddenly surrogacy, which up until that point, I’d thought, Well, that's just one step too far—that really helped me get over that hump.

We found an agency, and the third person we matched with was Trisha. She has twin girls of her own. She is a medical professional working in a hospital. They live two hours outside of Minneapolis. There was something about the way she wrote about herself and her life, I knew, "Oh my God, she's the one."

We had the first call over Zoom. You get into all these really tricky conversations. Like if you found out that your baby had Down Syndrome, for example, would you want to have an abortion? This is literally the first conversation I'm having with this person, and you talk about the hardest things first. Just the most sensitive topics you probably don't even discuss with some of your closest friends.

We were very much on the same page, and what she said was, "As far as I'm concerned, this is not my baby. This is your baby. And I'm taking care of it for you in the meantime. So you tell me what you want to do with the baby."

And to be honest, that's the way I felt throughout. I really felt like she was this incredible person who had signed up to take care of our baby. Her husband, Mason, was so amazing, he was like, "She said she wanted to do it, and I support her in whatever she does." He was just so chill about it.

At that point we had five embryos left, and we had one really good one. So I flew out to Minneapolis. It was a super snowy day in December 2019. We did the transfer, and I was holding her hand. Mason was there, too. All of us got so emotional and teary-eyed, because we realized the gravity of what this person is willing to do. I really can't think of a bigger gift.

Everything went smoothly. The embryo is transferred, everyone goes home, and then you wait for 10 days. The morning she was going in for the blood test, I texted her, "Trisha, I hope you know, whatever happens, it's going to be okay.”

The doctor's office called me, and they were like, "Unfortunately, it didn't work." It was a shocking moment. Because at this point, we’re two-years-plus in, and you think this is the final frontier, it's this option that's going to work. But then it doesn't. I remember being on the phone with Trisha, and she was in tears. And at that point it just re-confirmed for me the gravity of what you're asking someone to do. Because she's not just on the physical journey, she's really on the entire emotional journey, and she's so upset that she can't get pregnant for you.

Weirdly, I was disappointed, but prepared. I don't know how to describe it, but I think after being through so many rounds of things not working, you enter this new realm of "I am prepared for all disappointment." So, surprisingly, emotionally, I was okay. On the financial front, we'd spent a ton of money. We're entering six figures now. So much of our savings has gone into this process. And every time you do an IVF transfer with a surrogate, you're paying more.

It had been more than a year since I had stopped doing IVF myself. So simultaneously, I went back to my doctor and said, "One last time, and I want to try it with Lovenox," which was a drug a girlfriend who successfully got pregnant after infertility struggles told me about. And the doctor was like, "Okay, the science there is really unproven. We can try it, but I wouldn't bet on it." I've met very few doctors like her. The perfect mix of science and compassion. She really knew her stuff, and always walked me through the likelihood. But she also was game to try something new, and you could feel that she wanted this for you almost as much as you did for yourself.

We did the transfer in December 2019, and miraculously, that's the one that ended up working. But, because I'd had so many miscarriages, I was like, "This is probably also not going to work, so let's keep going with surrogacy." I was like, "If we can end up with one baby after trying all these different things, then I would be so, so happy."

So the new year came, and Trisha said she wanted to try again with two embryos this time, not one. We talked to our nurse in Minneapolis, who spoke with our doctor, and she came back and said, "These embryos are both not great quality, so sure, try with two." And we said, "Is there any risk of twins?" And our nurse passed on the doctor’s message, which was, "No. The quality's so low. It's not going to happen. Don't worry."

So we transferred those two embryos in January 2020. And then she did her blood work 10 days later, and the nurse called: "She's pregnant. And not only that, her HCG is through the roof. So you might have twins." And we were like, "What the?!"

At six weeks, you go in to see if there's a heartbeat. She videotaped it for me. There were two heartbeats. That was right before we went into lockdown.

I remember that moment. I was like, Oh my God, this is what people mean when they say they're on Cloud 9. We're having two babies, and maybe if I stay pregnant, maybe there's a third. But I didn't tell anybody. Chris and I didn't even tell our parents. We didn't tell a soul.

Around that time, we had this campaign at M.M.LaFleur that went viral. The Ready to Run campaign, where we said would dress any woman running for political office. We had all these press opportunities coming in, but a lot of it was on TV. And I'm trying to hide my pregnancy, because I really don't want to disappoint anyone—or myself.

Each week, I'm checking what is the rate of miscarriage this week, even though I know it doesn't apply to me, because for me, the chances of miscarriage continue on basically until the very end. It felt like I had to be careful not to get too attached.

Trisha getting pregnant was this big relief for me, because I thought Okay, even if I miscarry, we still have two others, and maybe one of them will work out. Just this constant of not getting too excited about anything.

I told Trisha I was pregnant before she did the second cycle. I felt like she signed up to carry a baby for a couple who couldn't get pregnant, and so I didn't want her to feel like I had misled her. And so I told her, "I'm six weeks pregnant, and it's still really early and may not work out, but I just wanted you to know that before you did the second transfer in case that changed your mind." And she was like, "Oh my God, that's so amazing. Congratulations."

She was the most wonderful partner through it all. I had planned to fly out for all these different appointments, but I couldn't because of COVID. So all of our appointments, she would ring us on FaceTime, and Chris and I got to sit in on all of them. I got to know her amazing family, and she has these twin girls who are just the cutest. It was this amazing friendship.

When I crossed the 30 week mark I realized, Okay, I actually might have this baby. I was induced at 39 weeks, which blew all my doctor's wildest expectations. It was an emergency C-section, because the cord was wrapped around his neck three times. But the Mount Sinai doctors and nurses were so incredible; I'd never experienced that level of care. Kento was born in August at 7 pounds, 14 ounces.

I gave birth, and then six weeks later, we flew out to Minneapolis to get ready for the twins’ delivery. Trisha had delivered at 35 weeks with her own twins, so we thought the babies would come around then, but these babies did not want to come out. She had to be induced at 37 weeks and ultimately had a C-section. I got to be there for the birth of the twins. Theo was 6 pounds, 0.9 ounces and Astrid was 5 pounds, 13 ounces, born in September, seven weeks after Kento. It was one of the most surreal experiences of my life—watching your babies be born out of someone else's body.

The C-section thing is a whole other topic I feel like women don't talk about enough. C-section is the hardest thing I've ever done. I didn't realize: I couldn't even laugh, I couldn't move. It’s major surgery. In my mind, you're Kate Middleton, and you appear five hours later with perfectly coiffed hair. After you have a C-section, the nurse needs to be there when you pee for the first time without a catheter. They bring you to the toilet, and they're literally standing there watching you as you try to pee. It's so unglamorous. I thought I had peed, and I looked down and it was bright red. I was like, "Oh my God, I've peed blood. I'm dying." And she said, "No, no, that's what's supposed to happen." But none of this, nobody talks about this. That brought home the gravity of what we'd asked Trisha to do. She had her stomach opened for us.

We never made a big announcement when I got pregnant, or when Trisha got pregnant, even after we crossed the 12-week mark. We never did an Instagram post, I think partly because I was so nervous and I remember the way I felt when I saw other people's baby bump photos. And I just decided I didn't want to do it, even though I'm now on the other side.

Some people are like, “life has completely changed since I gave birth or I had children.” I don't feel that way. We just decided to shift the kind of life we were having. But I really loved my life before too. I think that’s also part of the challenge with infertility—to keep recommitting to these things that are so physically and emotionally and financially taxing when you were also happy before.

But now the three of them are just so fun. That’s the word that comes to mind. We call them "triblings" because they're something between "triplets" and "siblings." When we were leaving the hospital with Trisha, we joked that we were going to get a lot of questions about the relationship among the three babies, and that we'll just have to say "triplets" to avoid explaining the whole story. But I find that today, even now when the three of them are pretty much the same size (and actually Theo is bigger than Kento), when people ask me on the street if the three of them are triplets, I go out of my way to tell them that they're triblings, because I think that's part of our story, and I never want to forget the gift that Trisha gave us.

One thing that's also been really nice for me is, professionally, I could spend all day long thinking about my job, but there are just some basic needs that have to be met: They need to be fed, they need to be changed. It allows me to switch my brain and create some healthy boundaries.

One of my mentors is Shira Goodman, who used to be the CEO at Staples. I was trying to figure out whether or not I should take maternity leave and she said to me, “You worked so hard for this. You should really enjoy it.” It was so nice to hear her say that. I actually really enjoyed it, even though we weren't sleeping. After three months I was ready to go back. The twins were only six weeks old, but I felt like a part of me was kind of missing. When I went back to work, I was like, “Oh my God, I feel like myself again.” But they are just pure joy. I don't know how else to describe it.

The reason I wanted to share my story is that I wouldn't have babies today were it not for the people who were willing to talk to me about their journey. It was, emotionally, the loneliest thing I've ever done, so I hope people feel a little less lonely.

The second part is, I'm not looking for any sort of sympathy, but compassion around how hard the fertility process is. And especially when you're trying to run a company and the Silicon Valley attitude is, “if you're not working every waking hour then are you even really serious about your business?” I found myself in this kind of impossible position where I couldn't outsource anything. In the startup world, you're always trying to optimize and outsource. I think the very real thing with fertility is you are the only person who can do it. And so it's incredibly physically and emotionally taxing.

The last thing is, financially, it is the costliest thing we've ever done aside from buying our house. We were able to afford it. But some people mortgage their houses to be able to afford IVF and surrogacy; for most people it is completely out of the realm of financial possibility. Some parts of IVF are covered by insurance. Nothing in surrogacy is covered by insurance. And you have to think, especially with same-sex couples and infertile couples, having children—is it a right? Or is it a privilege? I'm a huge advocate of insurance covering surrogacy, but we're so far from that conversation. If we really want our society to keep having kids and we also want women to keep working, this is a really serious conversation that we need to have.

Sarah LaFleur is the Founder & CEO of M.M.LaFleur. Sarah founded M.M.LaFleur in 2013 with a mission to help women take the work out of getting dressed, so they can focus on the work that matters to them. Prior to founding M.M.LaFleur, she worked at Bain & Co. in New York and TechnoServe in South Africa. Sarah sits on the board of International Rescue Committee's Airbel Impact Lab and on the business advisory council of the New York Fed. She graduated from Harvard University. M.M.LaFleur is named after her mother, whom she calls her biggest inspiration.

Dear Me,

When I started this journey, I was outraged. The world burned. I saw red and I was going to change the system, no matter the cost, come hell or high water. If my first law, the federal Survivor Bill of Rights, could speak it would scream a blood-curdling scream of pain, of betrayal, and of sacrifice. With time, with each passing law...31...32...33...I like to think the bills would sing now—a chorus of justice.

There's no easy way to put this—it takes time. That time might not be in our lifetime. We are, after all, ahead of our time, pushing the moral arc of the universe everyday, putting in safeguards—à la civil rights—so that the rest of the world can catch up. In the meantime, in a world that's not already there, all we can choose is to forge peace for ourselves. This is a task excruciatingly harder done than said.

One thing that has helped me is the overview effect. When astronauts go to space for the first time, they experience this effect—an awe inducing, terrifying perspective reset that at once makes them feel so small amongst the stars yet so special because the probability of them existing is so astronomically impossible—yet they are there. Most come back to earth profoundly moved to give back to the world.

Come with me on a journey for a moment—think back to the suffragists, to Harriet Tubman, to Fred Korematsu: All are lauded heroes now, all were branded and stigmatized during their time. This, at least, gives me solace and peace that history is on our side.

I asked you a question today that is hard to answer, but vital—who are you? How do you want to define yourself? What are the boundaries that are unimpeachable for you?

These questions are a crucible in themselves. Most people go their entire lives without finding an answer to these questions. You have the added benefit (sarcasm) of needing to answer these now, especially as you decide how public you want to be with your story. You must answer these for yourself. My heart is with you because I know too well the struggle, the existential crisis and the bitter truths in the path ahead. Let me tell you now, you are not alone. I am still walking it and I am here for you.

We are multitudes. I am a CEO. I am a survivor. I am a space nerd. I am a fashion lover. Accepting that I will always be known for my rape, accepting that some people are stupid and that I cannot control what people label me, and not basing my self-identity in what others think of me because I know who I am—all of that has helped. Of course, we are all human. Not being impacted by what others think of us is a level of enlightenment that I am continually working towards.

For so many of us, our mere existence poses a threat to the status quo. We are in a world that doesn't want us to exist. Therefore, exist. You owe nothing to the world; yes, you owe nothing to the survivor movement either. The bottom line is that your joy and health is the most important thing. Joy is the most radical form of rebellion. We are all stardust. You are already a star. You have already done enough. You are enough by merely existing.

In moments of stress, wherever you are, close your eyes. If you listen really hard the wind carries a song for you.

Do you hear it? It is the trickling, steady beat of the thousands of footsteps for centuries to come—a path, a new reality already made possible because you existed. The choir is already singing.

Love, Amanda

If you or someone you know has been sexually assaulted, RAINN—the nation's largest anti-sexual violence organization—is available 24/7 for confidential support. Call 800-656-4673 or use the org's online chat tool to talk with a trained staff member.

Dear Survivor,

Holding on to hope has always been a strategy of resilience that I return to again and again. There is something quite audacious about being hopeful in the face of white supremacy, patriarchy, and oppression, because they seem so overwhelming, dominating, omnipresent.

The work of the Me Too movement is largely driven by hope. If I couldn’t be hopeful that an end to sexual violence was possible, if I couldn’t be hopeful that the material lives of Black people were able to change or that marginalized folks could have justice, then there wouldn’t be anything to work towards.

With Me Too, my greatest hope is that people will understand that this is about healing and action. This is both about the people who’ve said, "me too" and ensuring that no one else has to come forward and say "me too" in the future. We built this movement on the backs of survivors, of people who have suffered these indignities and had their humanity snatched away from them. But in order for us to stand on a front line, to testify before legislators, to tell our stories, we need to heal—and in order to heal, we must have the capacity to hope that that work to end sexual violence IS possible.

I’ve been told so many bad stories from survivors from all walks of life; that they just don’t feel comfortable coming forward—they haven’t yet seen themselves in this narrative of hope and resilience. But the flip side is: We cannot wait for the narrative to catch up with us. We can’t wait for white folks to decide that our trauma is worth centering on when we know that it’s happening. We know that there are people who are ravaging our community and yet we still have to be steadfast and committed to survivors and ourselves as a movement. The moment you have clarity of vision and know that you are on the right side of history, then you can just keep marching forward.

—Tarana Burke

If you or someone you know has been sexually assaulted, RAINN—the nation's largest anti-sexual violence organization—is available 24/7 for confidential support. Call 800-656-4673 or use the org's online chat tool to talk with a trained staff member.

The number of Americans who are “very worried” about climate change has doubled in the past five years, and, in 2020, a poll by the American Psychiatric Association found that half of Americans are concerned about climate change’s effect on their mental health. But for some pregnant women and new mothers, grief and anxiety about climate change can come on suddenly and feel daunting. Having a child makes you acutely aware of the future, explains Linda Buzzell, a therapist and co-editor of the book Ecotherapy: Healing with Nature in Mind. “We become less focused on our own lifespans and start to wonder what life and the world will be like when our baby is in college or 40 years old or a grandparent,” she says. Combine this with the frequency at which climate change is being discussed by world leaders and featured in the news, a 35 percent increase in natural disasters in the past 20 years, and an intensifying global concern about the future, and it’s not surprising that so many new mothers find themselves suddenly tormented about the state of our planet.

Mollee Sullivan, a 37-year-old stay-at-home mom in Richmond, Virginia, was always aware of climate issues but didn’t become an environmental activist until parenthood. “I didn’t even recycle before I had kids,” she says. “Something just awakened in me when I reproduced.” When Sullivan was eight months pregnant with her second child, Donald Trump was elected. “I thought to myself, This man is going to burn the planet.” Sullivan went to her first environmental activism meeting when her daughter was two months old. “I had just enough time to get [there] and back before she needed to breastfeed.”

Portia Zwicker, a 41-year-old technical writer from Niskayuna, NY, had a similar experience. While she’d been mildly concerned about climate change before getting pregnant, it wasn’t until she became a mother that she started suffering from severe anxiety over it. “It just scares me so much to think about the kind of world my daughter will be living in when she’s my age,” she explains. She sometimes finds herself waking up at night in a panic about climate issues.

For some moms, climate change isn’t a theoretical worry, it’s in their backyards. Claire Breslow’s daughter was only eight weeks old when the Holiday Farm wildfires started burning near her home in Springfield, Oregon. Breslow, 31, who works in education, had already been quarantined with her family for months due to COVID-19, and then they watched helplessly as the skies blackened with smoke. She and her husband sealed the windows of their 100-year old house as tightly as they could, but when their newborn started sneezing, they knew they had to leave. “The fire was just moving closer and closer to us,” Breslow says. “The air was full of ash.” They loaded their kids into the car and started heading to a relative’s house. “The drive itself was apocalyptic. We kept getting calls that the fire was close to the highway and we were going to have to turn around.” The experience of fleeing from the wildfires brought her children’s future into perspective. “[My partner and I] kept talking about how our kids are going to be part of climate wars or might be climate refugees.” While their house survived the fire, and Breslow and her family were able to return home after 10 days, she found herself wondering how her kids will find a place to live that isn’t impacted by climate change: “Is it going to be hurricanes, or tornadoes, or flooding, or is it going to be wildfires?”

For a new mom, a preoccupation with climate change couldn’t come at a worse time: Often you’re stuck at home, isolated from friends and family; your emotional and physical needs are taking a backseat to your child’s; and your only access to the outside world is the newsfeed on your phone. Not only is a woman caring around the clock for a needy infant, but her body is flooded with powerful hormones, and, according to neurologists, her brain undergoes “the most rapid and dramatic neurobiological change” of her life. The part of her brain that controls anxiety, empathy, and social connection completely lights up (so much so that years later, researchers can tell if you’ve had a child just by looking at a brain scan). There is a hormonal surge of protectiveness, and new mothers are more likely than their peers to develop obsessive-compulsive behaviors like repetitive hand washing or frequently checking if their baby is breathing. It’s only logical that anxieties about the environment, which might be manageable at another time, would start to feel overwhelming, even debilitating, in the intense postpartum period.

Sharon Keilthy, a 40-year-old entrepreneur from Ireland says it was this combination of having a new baby and being at home that reconnected her to fundamental concerns. “Breastfeeding made me realize, for the first time, that cow's milk is another animal's breast milk,” Keilthy says. While Sharon breastfed her newborn, she started watching documentaries about sustainability and the climate crisis. “Being at home and focused on daily tasks tuned me in to [the issue of] waste. All the plastic going into our trash.”

To make matters more disorienting, the symptoms of eco-anxiety look strikingly similar to postpartum anxiety, leaving new mothers unsure where to turn for help or a diagnosis. Gabrielle Oviatt says that, despite being an environmentally aware person, her level of distress after having a baby was unlike anything she’d felt before. “I can recall two weeks after giving birth just crying for two days straight about the destruction of the earth,” Oviatt says. “I felt like I couldn't turn my brain off to stop thinking about how different the world was going to look for my son.”

Dr. Jenn Conti, an OB-GYN and host of the podcast “The V Word,” says it’s possible that worrying obsessively about climate change is just another form of postpartum anxiety. Symptoms of postpartum anxiety, which affects 15 percent of new mothers, include negative intrusive thoughts and obsessive worrying, and are often accompanied by a reduced ability to eat, sleep, and function. “When we think about postpartum anxiety and depression, it would be wrong to assume it’s only about postpartum or about the baby,” Dr. Conti explains.

For Kallen, the hardest part of her eco-anxiety was that it was legitimate: “It's not like there's any part of it that I'm exaggerating or worrying about needlessly.” According to Conti, there is an inherent difference between stressing about, say, someone kidnapping your child and stressing about the reality of climate change. While it seems obvious that you’d want to reduce concerns around irrational or improbable fears, it’s not so straightforward when your fears are about something that has been scientifically proven. “People would suggest a psychiatrist or medication and I would be like, ‘No, I don’t want to feel better,’ ” says Kallen. “Everyone should be scared of [climate change]. We should all be terrified.”

But seeking help for eco-anxiety can be complicated and sometimes equally distressing. According to Buzzell, many health and wellness providers haven’t yet caught on to the enormity of the issue. “They confuse totally normal and healthy concern about real-world climate and environmental issues with a mental health disorder,” she says. When Zwicker told her healthcare provider that she was having what she thought was climate anxiety, her provider referred her to a therapist. The therapist assumed Zwicker meant Seasonal Affective Disorder, which is a form of depression brought on by the winter months. “It's a crushing blow when a supposed expert is not even aware of the type of anxiety you're speaking about,” Zwicker says. “Here I am, desperately worried about the state of the planet and life on it, and someone is completely ignorant about it.”

Part of the problem, according to Merritt Juliano, a therapist and the co-president of the Climate Psychology Alliance North America, is that while eco-distress can have disastrous effects on someone’s mental health, it is not a mental health diagnosis. “Eco-distress is an adaptive response to climate change,” says Juliano. Part of the work Juliano does with the Alliance is making clinicians more aware of eco-distress so they’ll recognize it when they see a patient struggling.

When it comes to managing anxiety around climate change, validation is key. Dr. Laura Venuto, a psychiatrist from New York City, suggests that the focus should be on getting to a place where the anxiety is manageable so that the person can actually do something to help the issue. "If you have a debilitating level of anxiety about the environment, you will essentially be paralyzed," says Venuto. For Sullivan, volunteering was the only thing that gave her hope. “It wasn’t good enough anymore to keep up with the news, I had to get involved, even if I was wearing a baby on my chest.” She volunteers regularly with Citizens’ Climate Lobby, Environmental Voter’s Project, and Climate Interactive. “I’ve used volunteering as my therapy.”

Support from like-minded people is also necessary. Many programs now exist to help people grappling with eco-anxiety, such as the Climate Journal Project, which offers writing prompts to help manage climate anxiety, or Good Grief, a 10-step program designed to build resilience in the face of climate change. Buzzard says that for those awake to the climate crisis, there is great danger in trying to deal with that awareness alone. “Hopefully a new mom can find a group that is open to her concerns, or perhaps she will start one and discover that many other new parents share her anxiety.”

Mothers have long been at the forefront of social change. Consider Shannon Watts (gun safety), MADD (drunk driving), and Wall of Moms (police reform, Black Lives Matter). It’s no surprise that, as we face the “greatest threat modern humans have ever faced,” mothers are mobilizing against climate change. For Zwicker, that has meant making climate change activism a primary focus of her life. “It’s the number one thing I devote myself to besides parenting.” Similarly, Keilthy quit her corporate career when her daughter was four and signed up for a course in environmental justice. Since then, she has founded a sustainable toy company, Jiminy.

And Kallen has converted her “postage-stamp-sized” yard in Chicago to a native plant garden, which helps reduce air pollution and promotes biodiversity. She works with her daughter in the yard, showing her how the worms turn compost into soil and how small shoots grow into plants and flowers. “It’s an affirmation of life.”

This story has been updated to reflect Portia Zwicker's correct age and location.

Teleabortion has complicated history in America. Medication abortion (i.e. ending a pregnancy via pills) is legal in every state. However, providing virtual abortion care and mailing abortion pills to patients is not. Despite the regimen's proven safety record, the first of two pills taken to end a pregnancy, mifepristone, is to a subject to a Risk Evaluation and Mitigation Strategy (REMS), an FDA drug-safety program. The rule requires that patients pick up the drug at a clinic or hospital—not at a retail pharmacy or by mail. During the pandemic, a federal lawsuit meant that mailing pills was permitted until the Supreme Court halted the practice on January 12, 2021; before the Supreme Court ruling, several telemedicine sites opened...then were forced to shut down.

Biden's announcement means teleabortion can begin again. AOD will initially launch in in 20 states and Washington, D.C.,with short-term plans to expand to five more states.

Phifer is focused on bringing accessible care to those who need it most—the service is $239, about $300 less than the average price of ending a pregnancy at a health center—while helping brick-and-mortar clinics weather the disruption of telemedicine. To that end, Phifer will donate 60 percent of all profits from her service (the IRS maximum) to the Abortion Care Network (ACN), a national membership organization for independent, in-person clinics. The money will specifically go to ACN’s Keep Our Clinics fund.

Nikki Madsen, ACN’s executive director, describes independent providers as small businesses like your local bookshop. “Indies” provide the bulk of abortion care in this country: Fifty-eight percent of abortions in the U.S. are done at indies, even though they only make up about 25 percent of all clinics, according to a 2020 ACN report. They’re also crucial for later abortion care, as 62 percent of clinics that provide abortions after the first trimester are independent, as are 81 percent offering care after 22 weeks (teleservices can’t serve these populations). “Abortion care just doesn't exist in this country without independent providers,” Madsen says.

As an abortion provider, Phifer recognizes the challenges that independent clinics have historically faced and the threat that telemedicine poses: Her day job is working as a primary care provider at a telemedicine startup. “I saw my first abortion patient 10 years ago at a small, independent clinic in Seattle; they are now closed and there's a Whole Foods there,” Phifer says, adding, “I put my own personal savings into launching this and to launch it quickly because I was concerned someone is eventually going to do it, and someone who might do it might not actually have independent clinics in mind."

Marie Claire spoke to Phifer about starting the service and her plans to expand.

Marie Claire: Who will Abortion on Demand serve and how does the process work?

Dr. Jamie Phifer: We will be seeing patients up to 56 days’ gestation based on their last menstrual period in 20 states plus Washington D.C. We do an asynchronous intake that is entirely automated, and then we do a video appointment with the physician.

Then, there's an informed consent process using a pre-recorded video so that people can review it at any time. Then, we do a virtual chat with the physician after the patient has already watched the video so that they know what questions to ask. The whole process, from deciding that you want to proceed and getting your medication, should be between two and a half to five days, depending on where you are.

I frankly think medication abortion should be over the counter—it's actually safer than Tylenol. We have more Tylenol overdoses and complications in the U.S. than we do major issues with medication abortion.

MC: What is the screening like?

JP: [We look] for rare medical contraindications to mifepristone and gestational age and screen folks for ectopic pregnancy risk. We’re only seeing people 18 years or older. We do ask for a photo ID in the video portion of the visit; the ID doesn't have to match the state they say they're in, it just has to confirm their age.

MC: How did you choose the launch states?

JP: Based on which ones do not ban telemedicine [laughs]. It's interesting, some of them aren't banning telemedicine, but they're explicitly stating that an ultrasound needs to be done in-person. If we were sending someone in for an ultrasound, why don't we just send them in for mifepristone? We're not covering Alaska and Hawaii because of shipping costs and they are actually already covered by the Teleabortion.org study [an academic project that mails pills, the only way to qualify for mailing before the pandemic]. So, there wasn't the ethical urge to make sure that they were covered. And then in a couple of states, the mail-order pharmacy that we're working with doesn't yet have a license; we just have to wait until that's established.

MC: A lot of the states with teleabortion bans are also the hardest places to get an abortion. How does it feel to not be able to expand care in those hostile states?

JP: I can’t go into those states; I’ll lose my medical license. It's awful. It feels the way it always does.

Though COVID pushed the expansion of telemedicine drastically, it also exacerbated disparities in telehealth. We assumed that ‘well, telemedicine is expanding that means people will have more primary care access. Great!’ But that's not actually what ended up happening because all of the other disparities in the U.S. that haven’t gone away. We thought that people living in rural areas would be able to use telemedicine more because now providers in the urban centers in the state are able to care for them, and that didn't happen. Part of it is infrastructure and investing in those areas, part of it is distrust with health care providers, and part of it is some people don't have a smartphone that will enable you to do that.

Some of the same issues that exacerbate disparities in telemedicine primary care are the issues that are also present in abortion care that exacerbate disparities between early gestation care and later gestation care. As we push for more telemedicine access, though it would increase access to first-trimester care, it takes patients out of independent clinics that normally care for really complex patients. Those clinics then can't stay open. Therefore, we're not actually increasing access overall because where are people going to go if in-person clinics close?

MC: The donation model of Abortion on Demand hopes to address that. Can you explain your efforts to support independent clinics?

JP: The platform is built to try to address disparities in abortion care and try to be very explicit about offsetting the impacts of telemedicine abortion to independent clinics. We need to say upfront that we value in-person care, and we want to make sure that we're not actually decimating abortion access [as virtual abortion access increases].

MC: How’d you come up with the name?

JP: It is provocative, and I wanted abortion to be in the name explicitly because I wanted to counteract some of the stigma. I didn't want a fluffy name. And that's what it is: It's getting abortion almost on demand, like you would on your phone. I wanted the name to be descriptive, and I wanted also to ensure that the people who were using our service were comfortable with that concept.

All of our correspondence with patients doesn't have the word abortion in it, it just says “AOD.” The packaging says AOD. Credit card billing has the name of our LLC on it, so it wouldn’t be traceable at all.

MC: It’s also a phrase anti-choice activists use as a critique.

JP: That's why I picked it. There's this old photo from the 70s of a very young activist holding a sign over her head that says “abortion on demand.” I was like, that's what we want, that's what we're going to try to go for.

MC: Are you expecting anti-choice blowback?

JP: I do anticipate that anti-choice folks will try to use the platform. We actually charge the full price upfront when someone schedules and we specifically say on the platform why we do it: So the anti-choice folks will not build their own bot to block up the schedule.

If someone cancels within a certain timeframe, they get their full refund. If they cancel last-minute, we keep part of it and then donate. And then if someone, during their visit, either changes their mind or the physician realizes that maybe telemedicine is not a safe option for them, then we give a full refund.

MC: You put all of your savings into AOD but you also told us that your field doesn’t need more heroes. What did you mean by that?

JP: There are a lot of media pieces written about abortion. Especially when I was “growing up” in abortion care and training, there were a lot of pieces about individual abortion providers and how they're going against the grain and ensuring access. I really think the focus should be the patients. When you make it about one provider, or a set of providers—though they are doing wonderful, lifesaving work—it doesn't leave a lot of room for criticism and it doesn't leave a lot of room for growth. Once you said this person is a hero, what happens as the field grows and evolves? If they were a hero, where do they have to go from there? I think that our field should be continually growing and evolving.

This interview has been edited for length and clarity.

On the morning of New Yea­rs Eve, 2015, I was rummaging through old storage boxes in an attempt to resolution-clean when I came across an unopened tarot card deck a friend had gifted me 10 years earlier. Called The Housewives’ Tarot, it was a cheeky deck for women who approach the world of woo-woo with equal parts amusement and disdain. Its Rockwell-inspired illustrations (a duo of eggs in a frying pan for Two of Pentacles, the card of multitasking and adaptability; a Donna Reed lookalike suspended over feather dusters for Four of Wands, the card of home and celebration) made it the ideal party favor—entertainment for the saucy and unsentimental, to be enjoyed over martinis.

As it happened, I was not this type of woman. My childhood was wrought with things like “psychic surgeons” and “crystal healings.” Both my mother and father were artists living hippie-adjacent lifestyles. While my friends’ parents carted them to the family physician for stomachaches or fevers, I was placed under a bright green floodlight to soak in the healing power of the color. As an adult, I’d vacillated between rejecting those flower child ideologies and experimenting with mysticism. When the psychic surgeon who’d “treated” us as kids appeared on Unsolved Mysteries as a fraud fugitive, it set off a wave of contempt for the metaphysical that was, in the end, short lived. Soon enough, I was again showing up at new moon circles and carrying the black tourmaline crystal a friend gave me to ward off negative energy (couldn’t hurt, I thought). At that point, I’d never approached divination with any real measure of intention, but I wasn’t a cynic either.

Which is why, an hour before I began my New Year’s Eve primping, I sat down with The Housewives Tarot and earnestly followed its instructions for a year-ahead spread, placing each card face down in its designated spot, according to the manual’s diagram. The first card represented the immediate future, the next, what would be gained, and the third, what would be lost. I completed the 10-card spread, my bed obscured under a smattering of omens.

Most of the predictions felt too distant, too nebulous to impact me in a way I could understand at the time. But the card I’d pulled for the immediate future, Knight of Swords, warned me of imminent injury. Sucking on a cigarette, a leather-clad James Dean stand-in smirked up at me from the rectangular frame. Wielding a switchblade atop his shiny motorcycle, the Knight’s message was clear: Trouble was coming.

But as I’d done with actual men countless times before, I disregarded the red flag. A dance floor awaited me that New Years Eve night, as did a low-cut, metallic bodysuit. I was excited, hopeful even. The past year had taken me for a ride. I had seen unprecedented successes in my career, but I was never able to celebrate them. Each victory left me feeling panicked. Mired in imposter syndrome, I was sure I’d make a calamitous misstep, and that fear followed me like a shadow with every professional win. Romantically, things were not much better: one episode involved me sobbing on my bedroom floor when, after four hours, I hadn’t received a text back from the very hot, very dumb gym rat I’d been sleeping with but was honestly not interested in in any serious way. It was so absurd that I mentally scolded myself for having a reaction that appeared, even to me, pretty bonkers. I was exhausted.

I would later learn from my therapist that the disproportionate responses I had to typical life challenges were symptomatic of anxious attachment style. The American Psychological Association defines attachment style as: “The characteristic way people relate to others in the context of intimate relationships, which is heavily influenced by self-worth and interpersonal trust.” Of the four attachment styles (all defined in childhood) anxious attachment is the byproduct of parents who display unpredictable behaviors; one minute they soothe an upset child, the next, they rage, the next, they ignore. As a result, children are confused about what love is and rarely feel safe.

Research suggests that adults with anxious attachment style both deeply fear and deeply long for connection and are almost always codependent and insecure. The most urgent desire of a person with anxious attachment style is to know that they’re emotionally safe. Because they didn’t learn how to establish that trust in childhood, they nearly always look for someone or something outside themselves to provide it in adulthood. Their lives become a reflection of the dichotomous belief that love is extremely dangerous and the only thing that matters. And I, having applied that dogma to almost every aspect of my life, was a textbook example. The way I saw it, my career was a potential minefield, men were snakes in the grass, and God was a fickle, if not sadistic overseer, controlling the whole operation. And yet, I wanted in on everything. Life, for me, was to be lived to the fullest but with the utmost distrust.

It would take years of therapy, though, before I understood that about myself. Sitting at my vanity that night, thinking over the year that had passed, I was only vaguely aware of those haunted philosophies and the near constant melancholy accompanying them.

And, on that New Year's Eve, I was actively working to ignore that sadness by pumping sea salt spray into my hair and bumping ‘90s hip hop when I dropped my 300-degree curling iron onto my naked thigh. I heard the flesh sizzle before registering the searing pain.

That moment was pivotal; its effect would impact me in a way I could never have known at the time. The tarot had predicted a quick, painful experience caused by carelessness—the Knight of Swords—and within the hour I was slathering my hot, sticky skin with handfuls of aloe vera gel as a result of my own negligence. It wasn’t a coincidence, as far as I was concerned, it was the omniscient power of the tarot. When, two weeks later, the cards accurately predicted a huge fight with my mom, I abandoned all skepticism. With the tarot cards, I now had a window into the future, a superpower that would alert me when danger was looming.

Anyone might covet a tool like that, but for a person with anxious attachment style, someone who couldn’t escape her belief that the world she loved was one big wolf in sheep’s clothing, it was a hook. Not only would it save me from the terrors outside my door, it would save me from myself. Over the years, faith in my own judgment had eroded. Now, almost immediately, that codependent desire to be rescued was transferred onto the tarot.

There was no question too trivial, no outcome too consequential for divination. For the next three years, I laid every scenario at the feet of the cards. Should I move? Should I apply to a new job? How does the man I like feel about me? What would happen if I called him? If I didn’t call? What would May bring? July? August? I wouldn’t take any vacations without consulting my deck first; and I had to travel with it, of course, because who knew what unforeseen issues might arise along the way. As far as I was concerned, the tarot deck was the one thing I could trust.

Theoretically, that made sense. Pre-knowledge of life’s booby traps should mean an ability to dodge them, and that should translate to the ultimate safety net. But as my compulsion with the tarot escalated, my anxiety increased in tandem. When I asked the cards about finances and pulled Five of Pentacles—the card of monetary loss—I curled in the fetal position with despair for hours. There was no voice of reason to assure me that yes, I’d be pulling from my savings for the next six months, but it would turn out fine. When I asked about visiting a friend and it gave me The Tower (upheaval, disaster, painful awakenings), I was distraught. What I didn’t know was that the huge argument between us that ensued, once worked through, would be a source of healing in both of our lives.

Even benevolent cards didn’t soothe me. I’d instantly disregard the 10 of Cups (blissful relationships, harmony, alignment) or the Queen of Wands (courage, independence, joy) to worry about other cards in the spread with more daunting messages, asking for clarification on them over and over again until I’d worked myself into a panic. Like many untreated codependents, I'd given all my power to something outside myself hoping it would fix my pain, only to find my pain intensified.

It was around the time my obsession with the tarot was reaching its pinnacle that my therapist introduced me to mindfulness meditations. Mindfulness is the therapeutic practice of focusing on the present moment while calmly observing and accepting the feelings that arise. Tearfully, I would bring her my urgent distress—the possibility of failure, of heartbreak, of financial ruin. “You’re safe,” she would say in a steady voice, “even when life doesn’t look the way you think it should.” It was the first time that idea had ever occurred to me. When I was flooded with anxiety, I would take deep breaths from my belly. If my mind spun out with the future’s endless catastrophic possibilities, I would focus on the details of my environment: a bird singing, the smell of coffee from the kitchen, my body pressed against a couch cushion. And when my fear or loneliness felt unbearable, I would place one hand on my heart and one on my stomach, whispering, “This pain can be here.” The more I was able to sit with my anxiety, the less I needed to use the tarot as a crutch. It wasn’t until months of practicing mindfulness meditation had passed that I realized I’d only consulted my deck a handful of times.

I’d believed the tarot was my only source of security in an unpredictable world. But the truth is that pain is unavoidable, and much of it will take us by surprise. No amount of premonition can change that. And even when the tarot did warn me of upcoming struggles, it only destabilized me with hopelessness because I didn’t have faith in my own resilience. Ultimately, life’s trials weren’t the problem; the problem was that I thought sidestepping those trials was the only way to keep myself safe. Every time I laid a card down, I believed I was laying a bridge that would magically lift me up and over the inevitable human plight. In reality, I was just moving the anxiety around, channeling it into a new outlet that would leave me just as fearful as the others had.

I still read tarot today, though not as often. My early years as a tarot reader hinged on a need to protect myself from the future, from the suffering it might bring. As I learned to be present in my heartache and fear, I came to understand that I don’t have to avoid anything. Life’s hardships can be painful, but they also bear fruit—blessings in disguise, wisdom, growth, self-awareness. If I could breathe through the hardest moments, I could see myself through to the gifts that waited.

As my relationship to my anxiety has evolved, so has my relationship to the tarot. Rather than ask what potential dangers loom, I ask what energy I can bring to create the best possible outcome in any given situation. I focus on myself because, I eventually realized, the bulk of my pain wasn’t coming from the outside world; it was coming from me. When I see The Tower, Five of Cups, or any other challenging cards in my readings today, I still feel that familiar rush of panic. But I keep breathing, I focus on what’s true right now. I carry myself to the other side of that fear—no matter what might be in the cards.

“When I was looking for jobs psoriasis made it very hard to put myself out there,” says Chopra, who lives in New York City and is a content creator and founder of Chronicon, a community platform for people with chronic illnesses. “I would feel depressed, embarrassed, and totally isolated which made it difficult to follow my dreams and believe I was even worthy of the jobs and opportunities I so desperately wanted for myself.”

Chopra isn’t alone. In fact, moderate to severe plaque psoriasis has been shown to impact patients’ career choices, abilities to perform work duties and work relationships and interactions, according to a study published in The Journal of Dermatological Treatment.

The fact is, one of the most impactful parts of psoriasis is the psychological strain stemming from how it can impact your job prospects, says Geeta Patel, MD, a dermatologist in Houston, Texas.

“This burden is exacerbated by the fact that psoriasis is visible on the skin and the condition itself is highly misunderstood,” she says. “Many people with the condition are stigmatized because of their skin.”

Ultimately, psoriasis can affect everything from the clothes you choose to wear, to how you interact with colleagues and your overall energy for your job, Dr. Patel adds. “Even if you’re proactive about your treatments, this condition can take a very real toll on your day-to-day life,” she says.

Such was the case for Reena Ruparelia, 40. When she was working in human resources early on in her career, she noticed that people would shy away from shaking her hands due to the scaly patches there (these patches are also visible on her lower legs, feet, and arms).

“The psoriasis on my hands is quite noticeable and I used my hands a lot in conversations and presentations,” says Ruparelia, who lives in Toronto and was diagnosed when she was 14 years old. “This would cause me a lot of anxiety and worry as I didn’t want anyone to see my skin problem or my hands. Other times it made me feel that others were deterred from working with me because they thought I was sick or contagious."

Additionally, Ruparelia, who now works as a mindfulness guide and wellness advocate specializing in supporting other women with psoriasis, was afraid of their judgment. “At times I had to wear plastic gloves to work when I flared really bad,” she says. “This also made being at work really weird for me.”

And then there were the days when she didn’t feel well enough to go to the office at all. “When the anxiety and pain of my psoriasis were too much, I found myself missing work and turning down opportunities because of my skin,” she says. “This really affected my future.”

Ruparelia says that during much of her corporate career, she was really nervous about interacting with people, especially new staff members, vendors, and clients. “I also thought that having a visible condition might get in the way of me being promoted,” she says. “But I never let my skin get in the way of me doing my work. I didn’t want my manager or the higher ups to view me as less capable. Looking back I would tell myself it’s okay to have sick days and be human but, at the time, I was really harsh with myself.”

Steering your career path with psoriasis

The more you connect with your healthcare provider about current or new treatments, the more you may be able to keep psoriasis from becoming a career hindrance, says Dr. Patel. “There are great medical options for psoriasis patients depending on the severity,” she says. “These range from topical medicines to biologic medications.” These are all safe options that can be used even if you’re breastfeeding or pregnant, Patel adds.

That being said, being able to squeeze in regular doctor’s visits when you’re working crazy hours can end up being a big challenge. “Psoriasis is a chronic condition so treatments and doctor’s appointments often need to take place during work hours,” says Hadley King, MD, a dermatologist in New York City. “These issues can lead to discrimination at work and a feeling of being restricted on the career choices you want to make.”

Given these challenges, it may help to be open about your psoriasis and discuss it with your boss and colleagues if you feel comfortable sharing this information. “This may be helpful for building understanding and dispelling discomfort and bias,” Dr. King says. “It may also make it easier if you have a flexible schedule to accommodate medical appointments without facing repercussions.”

Ultimately, since work-related stress can contribute to psoriasis flares, it’s important to find ways to manage your workload to minimize stress as much as possible, Dr. King says. In the end, if a conventional path with a demanding boss becomes too stressful, it may be time to pivot away from the corporate world, as Chopra did.

“Since psoriasis is an autoimmune disease it also brought with it a lot of exhaustion simply because my skin was so impacted,” she says. “By building my own schedule I don’t have to work on anyone else’s timeline because my psoriasis can be really unpredictable in terms of my energy levels and when I will actually feel good.”

As for Ruparelia, a new attitude about psoriasis—and a new career path—has made all the difference. “I think I once thought that my condition limited what was possible for me and I thought I didn’t deserve to do certain types of work because of how I looked,” she says. “I now see that my body is meant to do work where I can create my own hours.”

In turn, she is no longer letting her skin get in the way of her professional plans which means she won’t ever work at a job that requires long hours or too much travel as that leads her to overdo it and prompts flare-ups.

“I don’t look at psoriasis as a barrier anymore,” she says. “Instead, I look at it as an invitation to be more self-compassionate and choose work that best supports my health and my aspirations.”

In the midst of the awkwardness that accompanied those years, I managed to develop some of my closest and longest-standing relationships. The greatest of which was meeting my best friend. As she was also without a sister, our bond was immediate. We seemingly thrived on the fact that we were alike: We are both self-motivated, organized, “lean in” types who operate best in situations we can control. For 20 years, we bore witness to every special moment in each other’s lives. But, as is often the case, life did not transpire in perfect synchronicity. And, as with sisterhood, feelings of hurt, resentment, and, arguably, jealousy would arise. Unlike sisterhood, our relationship remained a choice.

Four years ago, I became pregnant. Several years into marriage, settled into our first home in San Francisco, and just back from a lovely trip abroad—I ticked off all the boxes in my head. My spouse and I were ready; whatever that meant. And in three weeks’ time, we were successful. Just like that. Although it seemed to happen awfully fast, it didn’t occur to me how unique of a hand I had been dealt. In the U.S. alone, around 12 percent of women ages 15 to 44 struggle with infertility. And while notable figures like Chrissy Teigen, Gabrielle Union, and Meghan Markle have brought the topic out of the shadows, the cultural conversation doesn’t even begin to scratch the surface of the many interpersonal relationships that are affected by it. I learned this firsthand.

For as long as I can remember, my best friend has talked about being a mother, stopping in her tracks every time we encountered a chubby baby. Aware of her desire to start her own family and the fact that she had been struggling to do so for the better part of a year, I was reluctant to share my pregnancy news. So when she asked me to accompany her on a walk days before we’d celebrate her 30th birthday, I decided not to mention my pregnancy just yet. What I hadn’t considered is how in tune we are with each other. As she was doing a mental tally of her BevMo order for that weekend, she sensed my reluctance to commit to a drink. She yelped, “Are you pregnant?!” I sheepishly grinned and her reaction was pure excitement. I couldn’t have been happier or more relieved. Truthfully, I felt guilty for even doubting her. Of course she’d be happy for me—she’s my best friend, after all.

Her enthusiasm didn’t last. While I settled into my new normal, her life remained unchanged. As that reality set in, the tension between us grew. It was only natural that my impending motherhood became the obvious topic of conversation amongst friends, though, I couldn’t help but notice her discomfort anytime the subject arose. I immediately felt conflicted—grateful to be experiencing a moment I had always envisioned, but guilt-ridden that it was so effortless. I regularly checked in on her, assuring her that her happy ending was right around the corner. What I didn’t realize at the time was that response wasn’t comforting for someone in her position to hear. Despite my well-intentioned optimism, I couldn’t possibly know what the future held.

All through adulthood, we had seen each other on a weekly basis; suddenly, a couple months went by and we hardly spoke. My presence had become an unwelcome reminder of what didn’t exist in her life. We eventually took a long walk in an effort to reconnect. When I left, I felt some resolve. But as I began to process what had just happened, I felt unsettled. We spoke of her inability to be around me, to discuss anything baby-related, to be present for me in the way we’d both hoped she’d be. My immediate reaction was empathy and I leaned into that. In an act of solidarity, I offered to check with her before I discussed my pregnancy, despite the fact that my ever-evolving figure couldn’t be hidden. In the moment, that felt like the right thing to do, but later it felt unfair. The life growing inside of me was worthy of recognition. I realized I wasn’t willing to bury my happiness to make room for her disappointment. It was then that my feelings began to shift. What had previously been an equally benevolent friendship began to feel one-sided.

As the months passed, we both trudged on—her, under the impression I was satisfied with our new arrangement, and me, quietly growing resentful. Then in March, only a couple months ahead of my May due date, she shared good news: She was finally pregnant. While excited for her, I also felt a wave of relief. I was hopeful our friendship would return to normal, and I looked forward to enjoying the last few months of my pregnancy without restriction. I would happily, without pausing for her reaction, answer any and all questions regarding the impending birth of my firstborn. Yet something was still amiss. I couldn’t help but feel annoyed. The damage had been done. I had endured months of lending an ear or a shoulder to cry on as she simultaneously ignored the most important time in my life. It seemed that now, and only now, was I allowed to feel the joy that I longed to feel months prior; joy I was equally deserving of.

Sadly, we wouldn’t meet that child. My heart sank when I saw her text and I called to offer my support. A few days later, as I was exiting my OB-GYN's office, our eyes met in the waiting room: I, with my third trimester belly, and her with none. We embraced and held each other as we both cried. Under the worst circumstances, for a brief moment, we were connected again.

My shower was shortly after that and I knew what I needed to do. I called to tell her she didn’t need to attend if she wasn’t up for it. She was touched and assured me she’d be there, but as the day grew closer, she changed her mind. That afternoon, I kept glancing at the door hoping she’d have another change of heart. She didn’t.

Struggle is one of the most shared experiences we have as humans. As we exist in an increasingly filtered world, it’s easy to forget that hardship is a common thread connecting us. In another conversation the week of my shower, my best friend called to share some tragic news. My first boyfriend had taken his life. He was my first, and only other, love. The day of the party, when I should have been celebrating, my heart ached. I knew I had done the right thing in telling her she didn't have to come, but God did I need her, now more than ever. For the first time in months, we were on common ground—both grieving a loss of life.

Almost a year later, we spoke on the rift between us once more, though it was immediately clear we did not see eye to eye. She reiterated that she had done her best, given the circumstances. I felt as though there had been space for both of us; that support was a two-way street. Neither of us was wrong. We’d simply been on opposite ends of the spectrum and thus, we’d never fully understand the other. That was the toughest pill to swallow. The truth is, she didn’t minimize my feelings; I did. As an otherwise candid individual, I didn’t speak my truth. And the less I did, the more indignant I became. Speaking up may not have changed her behavior, though it might have changed my perception.

For years, I couldn’t understand how resolved she seemed to distance herself from me during my pregnancy. I realize now that she simply did not have the emotional bandwidth to deal with her situation and mine. At the time, I saw that as selfish, though now I see it was self-preservation. That is a hard truth about life; sometimes there is simply not enough of ourselves to go around. And one can only hope that those who know you best will extend some grace. I wish I had.

After nearly two years of strain, our relationship has, thankfully, found its way back to what it once was. One of my favorite images from my hospital stay after giving birth is a picture of my best friend holding my son, looking down at him with pure love. Only one of two visitors outside of our immediate family, she showed up in the end as, deep down, I knew she would. Perhaps the only picture I love more is at her home a few years later, where she is holding my toddler and I, her newborn. Life, and our friendship, hasn’t gone entirely as we thought it would in our adolescent years, though it did fall into place exactly as it was meant to be. We have our boys and each other, and a bond that we now know can withstand anything.

Editor's note: Art is for design purposes only and doesn't represent the subjects in this article.