“I’ve been traveling with a cyst the size of a Watermelon”
When a user sent this to us and we read it, we knew that it talked about struck a chord with what so many Black women are going through and have gone through, ovarian cysts. This time, this beautiful black woman has been traveling the world with this condition. It’s something that man can relate to. Here’s her story in her own words:
— original story seen here —
Whooosah, this was hard to write. But I hope that by reading, you can walk away with the universal truth that the failure to acknowledge something’s presence has never and will never make it go away.
Getting to the root of the problem, whether in your health, finances, or broken relationships, is the only way you’ll ever find a solution, breakthrough, or closure. Alas, easier said than done.
This took me several days to write. I’ve re-written multiple parts. Included graphic photos. Took them out. Put a couple back in. And then took others down and replaced them with GIFs.
There’s a lot to unpack here and there were several hard truths I had to face.
And though I wanted so badly to pretend like I was fine, write off my February absence as another social media detox like I literally [and intentionally] did in January, I couldn’t.
As I’m writing this, I’m still trying to heal — mentally, as much as physically.
Writing is my therapy, and ultimately, it’d be a disservice to the transparency I preach on my platform if I didn’t turn my pain into a necessary reminder to others who may also be actively ignoring their bodies’ silent cries for help.
For the longest time, I thought it was bloat or a food allergy before I found out that I had actually been traveling with a 28cm cyst on my ovaries.
Please note: This photo is NOT mine (mine was drained internally before removing), but I was able to find another case which had almost identical measurements.
My cyst was 28 x 24 cm and the cyst pictured below is 30 x 20 cm.
The sad reality of chasing a dream is that oftentimes your health becomes secondary to your goals. Though my weight regularly fluctuated, I’d always been on the thicker side growing up, so I never thought much of occasional weight gain. My baby fat didn’t leave my face until I was 23, and I was down to my lowest weight at age 25.
But between the ages of 26 and 27, I remember looking in the mirror and looking, well, fluffier than I was used to. Of course, I wrote it off as a good time. They say the best souvenirs from travel are all the pounds (kilos) you bring back home with you.
I even jokingly wrote about…