Healthism: identified by Robert Crawford in 1980, healthism is “the preoccupation with personal health as a primary – often the primary – focus for the definition and achievement of well-being; a goal which is to be attained primarily through the modification of life styles.”

Ableism: discrimination in favor of able-bodied people

Capitalism: an economic and political system in which a country’s trade and industry are controlled by private owners for-profit, rather than by the state.

Six years have passed since my health started its downward spiral. Fall of 2014 was the first clear inclination that something was up, beginning with exercise intolerance and weird night sweats. The downturn continued for four more years, with sprinkles of hope and improvement mixed in, but it would be fall of 2018 before any marked recovery took place. In that time, I burnt my career to the ground – not by choice, stopped running for months at a time, radically modified my diet, all in hopes of reclaiming a shred of the wellbeing I once took for granted.

It’s quite common in our culture to hear people brag about how they don’t take medication. It’s not meant to shame those that do, but folks take pride in being medication-free. It bothered me before, as someone who’s needed thyroid medication to function since I was 25, and allergy medicine to prevent me from taking my eye balls out of my head and scratching my face off since a decade before that. But as someone who now requires handfuls of supplements a few times a day, in addition to the aforementioned thryoid and allergy medication, to make up for the nutrient deficiencies documented within my body, it reeks of ableism. Folks who are medication free are largely so because of good fortune and good genetics.

But what is healthism, beyond the overly stuffy definition quoted above? Our attitudes about overweight and obesity are perfect examples. Folks are blamed by society if their bodies don’t fit our fucked up ideas about what bodies should look like. All bodies must be thin, ideally white or white passing. Anything other than that is subpar and a problem to be addressed. Never mind that a person’s body sized is influenced by many factors, most significantly genetics. It’s also affected by income levels, food security/insecurity, access to healthcare, stress, a community’s built environment – or how people move about one’s community (are there sidewalks, is it safe, is it bikeable), all things partially or completely outside an individual’s locus of control. In spite of all of that, a person’s weight is viewed as a moral issue. An urgent problem that must be solved.

How many companies exist for the sole purpose of “helping” people lose weight? Who is making money off of our culture’s obsession with thinness? Who benefits? Certainly not women who are taught from a young age that our unruly bodies are something to be controlled and managed. Our healthcare costs are some of the highest in the world, our outcomes not befitting those of a wealthy nation, a nation obsessed with health. Where’s the disconnect? Never mind that our bodies are no one’s business. The size of it, the state of it, what we do with it, how we treat it, none of it.

The chronic flare of my autoimmune condition started because of stress. Specifically stress at work. I cared deeply about my job and it was incredibly challenging. So I did what many women do, I ran myself right into the ground, without a second thought. I spent the decade before burning the candle at both ends and getting away with it. I climbed ladders, took on more responsibility, earned a decent salary, all for someone else’s – namely my employer’s – benefit. Sure I had some money in the bank, but I was not the main benefactor of my labor. It’s what I was supposed to do though, right? Bust your ass, even if it costs you nearly everything. This is capitalism. An economic system that benefits a small class of wealthy people, not the everyday folks stuck in the middle of it.

So now I am a person with a chronic illness, someone who will forever exist outside our culture’s obsession with health. I no longer possess the capacity to burn the candle at both ends. Most days I feel pretty good, but I still have days I can barely get off the couch. Less often than a few years ago, thank goodness. I sleep a lot, not by choice. It’s the only way I can function. I spend an inordinate amount of time prepping food. Taking care of myself feels like a full time job most weeks. I’ve spent the last few years trying to figure out where my career fits in the midst of all of this. I’m young enough that I still have a lot I want to accomplish, a lot to offer. I want to be of service, to make all of this mean something. I explored, and even started, going back to school. I’ve explored a number of other options, none of them feeling like the right fit. All of those options have been within how we traditionally define work, namely my working for someone else. My pay, my worth, defined by others.

Finally, it occurred to me that perhaps the way forward isn’t the way it’s always been. What if I worked for myself, on projects that matter most to me? Where I have complete control over how and when I work, taking advantage of when I’m feeling great, scaling back when I need more rest. What if I created a career for myself that can go wherever I go, wherever we go?

Months of soul searching, questioning, and facing a whole host of fears I didn’t even know I had (thanks to M for his tremendous patience while I worked through these) has me on the cusp of starting my own business. I’m a few months from launch, but I am starting Juniperus, a leadership and communications coaching service focused on quiet, introverted, empathetic women who want to cultivate more courage and resilience in their work and in their life. What I loved most about being a leader was mentoring and bringing up other women with me. When I thought about how I wanted to spend my limited resources going forward, I realized it is here. I think the concept of work-life balance is bullshit, especially as someone with a chronic illness. Work-life integration is what I’m going for, and what I hope to help other women manifest in their own unique ways. In addition to my nearly two decades of experience as a quiet leader, I’m also taking a life coach training that starts in October. Not because I want to be a life coach (NTTAWT), but because I want to enhance my question-asking and listening abilities. And a coaching certification seems important in the longterm. I’m exploring anticapitalist pricing strategies and plan to increase our giving as I earn income again. I have very modest goals initially, but I’m not ashamed to say that I want to make up for the income that I’ve lost out on the last five years. I believe I can help quiet women leaders be more effective and fulfilled in their work AND earn a decent salary while I do it. Creating work that accounts for my very real limitations in a way that doesn’t feel like a compromise feels pretty damn good too.

I’ll post on the socials when I officially launch, but none of this would be happening without this persistent, relentless flare, and the wildfire it created. Without being forced to burn it all down, I wouldn’t have had the time or the space to think about the kind of impact I want to have with my work and how I can make that happen. In a different society, one that valued true health and wellbeing, that honored different abilities, I could likely go back to a more traditional career. I could still be a leader in an organization. That is not an option for me, or thousands of other people in similar situations. And what a loss that is. Our talents and our skills are missed because our capacity is different. Because workplaces care more about my butt in a seat for eight+ hours than the quality and quantity of work I can offer. I’m grateful for the privilege to go out on my own. Grateful for a husband that’s been a rock through these last terrible years. Grateful for our good financial decisions that provide the resources to get Juniperus off the ground. Grateful to Vasavi Kumar, the extremely talented business and mindset coach who’s helping me nail down the specifics of this business.

The fire is out, the smoke has cleared. Little bits of life are poking up through the charred earth. I turn 45 in eight weeks. LFG.