Long before I really understood the full impact of living with autoimmune disease—and long before I ever imagined becoming an intuitive wellness coach—I was in graduate school studying vocational rehabilitation counseling. At the time, I was also living with endometriosis. Looking back, that was the beginning of my healing journey, though I could never have imagined where it would lead. Along the way came other challenges, including sarcoidosis, primary lymphedema, and more recently, vestibular hypofunction with vertigo and vestibular migraines. Each diagnosis invited me to know my body in a new way and deepened my understanding of what healing can mean.
First It Was Endometriosis
In the midst of a recent shuffle of personal belongings, a box of letters, school papers, and keepsakes landed in front of me demanding attention. Inside was a book, Alternatives for Women with Endometriosis: A Guide by Women for Women, edited by Ruth Carol. The book is a compilation of women’s stories describing how they found healing through holistic and complementary approaches.
As I thumbed through its pages, I remembered contributing an essay when the book was published in 1994. I smiled as I reread “My Personal Health Transformation.” It transported me back to a season of life when I was navigating recurring uterine fibroids and endometriosis while exploring holistic approaches to wellness more than thirty years ago.
Reading those words today, I realized how much—and how little—has changed. At the time, I wasn’t familiar with the chakra system, but I understood the importance of healing my inner child and recovering from childhood sexual abuse. Even then, I knew that healing required tending to mind, body, and spirit together rather than treating each in isolation.
Then Came Sarcoidosis
If you know my story—either because you know me personally or because you’ve followed my writing—you know that I live with sarcoidosis, an autoimmune disease primarily affecting my lungs. I developed sarcoidosis several years after my endometriosis had resolved, following significant exposure to black mold.
From my own holistic perspective, that diagnosis invited me to explore the symbolism of the heart chakra and the breath of life. For me, the heart chakra represents our capacity to give and receive love, compassion, forgiveness, and connection. Whether or not one embraces that framework, it became a meaningful lens through which I could continue my own healing. We all have broken places, and perhaps healing is less about erasing them than learning to live more gently with them.
On Being a Lymphie
I also have primary lymphedema. I am a lymphie.
I was born with it, along with crossed eyes and a duodenal hernia. My eyes gradually corrected themselves over time, and my hernia was repaired surgically when I was just fourteen months old. The lymphedema remains, primarily affecting my left leg. You could say I entered this world with a few challenges already packed in my suitcase.
The lymphedema affects the flow of my lymphatic system, and I often think of lymph much like the concept of chi—life force energy moving through the body. When lymph doesn’t flow well, I imagine my energetic flow becoming stagnant as well. It makes me smile that one of my guiding words in recent years has been FLOW. Apparently, my soul has been paying attention all along.
Learning to Find My Balance
Most recently, my healing journey took another unexpected turn when I developed vestibular hypofunction. Seemingly overnight, I found myself living with vertigo, vestibular migraines, light sensitivity, and a body that no longer felt entirely trustworthy. The simple act of walking through a grocery store, turning my head too quickly, or sitting under bright lights suddenly required far more intention than before.
Around the same time, my sense of smell—which had already begun fading years earlier—diminished even further. For someone whose work is deeply rooted in essential oils and aromatherapy, that felt like a profound loss.
Yet healing has a way of surprising us.
Vestibular rehabilitation has reminded me that healing isn’t always about returning to who we once were. Sometimes it asks us to learn an entirely new way of living in relationship with our bodies. I’ve learned to celebrate progress measured in small victories rather than giant leaps. Ironically, as my physical balance was challenged, my inner balance grew steadier. I discovered that trust isn’t built because life becomes predictable. It’s built because we continue showing up, one step at a time.
Healing in Every Season
This unexpected trip down memory lane reminded me of all the ways I have sought healing throughout my life. Although my understanding has evolved, the thread has remained remarkably consistent: caring for the whole person.
What began as a search for relief from endometriosis became an exploration of emotional healing. Sarcoidosis invited me into deeper compassion. Lymphedema continues to teach me about flow, patience, and acceptance. Vestibular hypofunction has become an invitation to rediscover balance in every sense of the word.
This has never been a straight path. There have been setbacks, revelations, grief, joy, epiphanies, and countless beginnings disguised as endings. Living intentionally has never guaranteed an easy life, but it has given meaning to the journey.
Looking back, I realize wellness has always been woven into my story. The diagnoses have changed. The lessons have changed. Even my understanding of healing has changed. But the invitation has remained the same: to become more fully myself through whatever life places before me.
I was only thirty-one when I wrote that first essay. I was brave enough to tell my story before I had all the answers. In many ways, I’m still doing that today.
I’ve now added that little essay to my curriculum vitae—not simply because it was my first publication, but because it marked the beginning of a body of work that continues to unfold. Looking back, it feels less like a coincidence and more like a calling.
My healing journey didn’t simply lead me to become an intuitive wellness coach.
It shaped the person I became along the way.
Merz, D.P. (1994). My personal health transformation. In R. Carol (Ed.) Alternatives for women with endometriosis: A guide for women by women (pp. 141-149). Third Side Press: Chicago, IL.
What you will learn on your way to becoming an Intuitive Wellness Coach
