This story is published in partnership with the Black Girl Wellness Fest. Click here to learn more about the festival, which comes to Chicago on June 26-27.
I didn’t have health insurance when I co-founded The TRiiBE in 2017. At 27 years old, I was a passionate storyteller, career-driven and had aged out of being on my parents’ insurance. I thought that being young and healthy was all the care I needed. My passion for building anti-racist narratives to uplift Black Chicagoans fueled me, and my determination to make an impact pushed me to work beyond my capacity. The demand for The TRiiBE’s unique style of journalism and storytelling quickly grew. Before long, government officials, contributors, readers and funders were reaching out to me with various requests — and I did my best to balance it all.
I have what I believe to be a high pain tolerance. In those start-up years of The TRiiBE, I suppressed the aches and pains welling up within my womb––until I didn’t really feel it at all. Every once in a while, I’d feel a stabbing pain in my abdomen or experience an abnormally heavy menstrual cycle.
At the same time, I’d bury myself in work until the work started to hurt, too. Doomscrolling, debating with strangers on social media, stressing and working day in and day out, until I’d crash—exhausted but feeling purposeful.
I didn’t realize that the increased stress was throwing my body out of balance. Within the first year of running The TRiiBE, my skin broke out into severe acne. Tiny bumps covered my face and I felt unrecognizable.
When I hired full-time staff in 2021, I set up healthcare for the company for the first time. By then, I had already gone five years without seeing a doctor. I thought, perhaps, that my acne was hormonal, so I scheduled a gynecologist appointment right away.
I didn’t tell the gynecologist about the extreme cramps and stabbing abdominal pangs that I would have every once in a while. I also felt bloated and full all the time. I didn’t know that my symptoms were more than just aging and the “grown woman weight” that I had heard was a reality once you hit your 30s.
What the doctor discovered during my exam was something I didn’t expect. The doctor pressed on my abdomen and told me that she felt “fullness.” By “fullness,” she was describing the presence of a solid mass in my body.
After an ultrasound, the doctor confirmed that I had fibroids, benign tumors that attach and grow from the uterus. Untreated, my fibroids had stretched my uterus to the size of a six-month pregnancy. It was the equivalent of having two large grapefruits inside of me.
Because of the size and the placement of the fibroids, I had to seek out a specialist for removal. I was shocked when the surgeon recommended a procedure that would require a six-inch c-section cut across my lower abdomen.
There I was, a 32-year-old single woman facing a c-section where I would deliver tumors instead of a child. Not only that, but the decision that I had to make about how to proceed with the fibroids would affect my reproductive health for the rest of my life.
Faced with having my first major surgery, I felt a sense of overwhelm. How could I have let this happen? I cried and grieved the body I used to have, the body that I abandoned and took for granted. I took a picture of my six-month tumor belly with a grapefruit to get an idea of how much my stomach had abnormally protruded out.
If I had caught this sooner, before the fibroids got massive, the procedure wouldn’t have had to be so invasive. I worried about the c-section scar and the pain of recovery. And as the only fundraiser and administrator of the company, I worried about The TRiiBE.
My symptoms were getting worse and we were heading into Chicago’s 2023 mayoral election season. I ended up booking the surgery to remove the fibroids —with a c-section cut— within that four-week period between the general and the run-off elections.
Not only that, but I was a maid of honor in a wedding. I had to fit a bachelorette trip into my post-op recovery period, too.
So, for the city I love, and the people I love, I pushed down the pain.
I prepped The TRiiBE for a major election and had a successful surgery on Feb. 22. I dedicated three short weeks to recovery before I was back to work and life, flying across the country for a friend’s bachelorette trip and making it back in time to join a live WGN News election night panel. The panel would be one of my most memorable moments as publisher of The TRiiBE, but I can’t help but think about how I did all of this before my scars fully healed.
As a single woman, I didn’t think I had to pay attention to my reproductive health. I was wrong. Over time, I’m learning how to listen to my body and the signs it gives me when I need to care for myself.
Pain is not normal.
Symptoms for fibroids, endometriosis and hormonal imbalance can look different for everyone. Here are some signs to look out for: acne, gut issues, frequent urination, bloating that doesn’t go away, sharp abdominal pains, anal cramps, fertility issues, heavy menstrual cramps, excessive vaginal bleeding, and pain during or after sex.
I’ll be speaking about my journey of learning to care for my reproductive health while simultaneously dealing with the pressures of showing up for my community and The TRiiBE at the Black Girl Wellness Fest on Saturday, June 27 at 1:00 p.m at the UIC Forum (725 W Roosevelt Rd.). I’m inviting Black women to come together to discuss our collective healing and reclaim our bodies.
Learn more about the festival and get your tickets at blackgirlwellnessfest.com.
