My Alternator Went Out

God blessed me with an amazing body—and I’m not talking about appearance. I mean the architecture, the way this body is built. I’ve always been stronger than most folks my age. My bloodwork stays exceptional. I don’t really have allergies. I don’t bloat. I rarely have gas. I run fast. I heal quickly.

Okay, I do scar badly—but that’s about it.

So, imagine my confusion when my body went from four-and-a-half day, almost painless cycles to ten-day, painful, life-interrupting events.

I’m a little bit of a hypochondriac, I watch a lot of TV, and I am a Cancer. That combination means I don’t just track my cycle; I run a whole medical surveillance program. Digital calendar, daily symptom notes, energy levels, mood swings, abnormal anything—you name it. I document it.

I would be in luck if ever the doctor needed that one clue to diagnose a rare condition like they do on those medical dramas. Extra? Yes. Do I care? No.

My first “extended period” hit in August 2022. Just one extra day, but when you’ve been consistent for 15 years straight, that one day is a red flag. September came—same thing. Then October. Then the pain joined the party.

By December, we were at nine days, and my cycle app was basically looking at me like: “Girl… is everything okay at home?”

It was not.

After months of tracking, testing, and trying to make sense of it all, I finally got an answer: I had an enlarged uterus with five fibroids. One of the fibroids was the size of me being three months pregnant. I decided that big mama had to go as soon as I heard the news. I had my hysterectomy in August 2023, and honestly… it saved me.

4 days post Hysterectomy

Before I get into some quick facts about hysterectomies, here’s what I want to make crystal clear:

You are not crazy. Your pain is real. Your intuition is real. Black women know our bodies—don’t let anyone gaslight you out of advocating for yourself.

Let’s Talk Fibroids (Because So Many of Us Have Them)

Fibroids are non-cancerous tumors that grow in or around the uterus. Harmless in theory. Life-altering in reality.

Common Symptoms of Fibroids

These are the red flags many of us ignore because we think “this is just what periods are like.”
But no—this is not normal:

  • Heavy or prolonged periods (7+ days)
  • Severe cramping
  • Pelvic pressure or fullness
  • Back or leg pain
  • Large blood clots
  • Bloating or looking “months pregnant”
  • Fatigue or low energy due to anemia
    • Constant urge to pee or difficulty emptying bladder

Hysterectomy: What Actually Happens

A hysterectomy is surgery to remove the uterus. There are different versions of it:

  • Partial – Uterus removed
  • Total – Uterus + cervix removed
  • Radical – Uterus + cervix + ovaries + fallopian tubes removed
After a Hysterectomy
  • No more periods
  • No chance of pregnancy
  • Relief from fibroid symptoms
  • Recovery time: usually 4–8 weeks

For many women, it’s life-changing in the best way. For others, it’s a last resort. It just depends on your body and your goals.

Alternatives to Hysterectomy

If you’re not ready for the full breakup with your uterus, there are options:

  • Myomectomy – Removes fibroids but leaves the uterus
  • Uterine Fibroid Embolization (UFE) – Cuts the fibroid’s blood supply so it shrinks
  • Focused Ultrasound (MRgFUS) – Uses sound waves to shrink fibroids
  • Medication – Manages symptoms temporarily

Every body is different, so don’t let anyone rush you into a procedure without explaining every option.

Black Women & Fibroids: What We’re Not Told Enough

Did you know?

  • Black women are three times more likely to have fibroids.
  • We tend to get them younger, and they grow larger and faster.
  • Up to 80% of Black women will have fibroids by age 50.
  • Many doctors still minimize our pain or skip straight to hysterectomy recommendations.
  • Our symptoms are often dismissed as “normal period issues,” which delays diagnosis for years.

This is why sharing our stories matters. This is why I’m sharing mine.

We deserve answers. We deserve options. We deserve care that actually listens.

My goal with telling my story isn’t just to entertain; it’s to inform, empower, and let somebody know they’re not imagining what’s happening inside their body.

And if nobody has told you yet:
You are allowed to advocate loudly for your own health.

Kesha

Life Gave Me lemons- Not Wine

For nearly thirteen thousand seven hundred forty-nine days, one hour, and forty-two minutes, my life unfolded without incurring any major losses. Let me be clear: I did lose things—friends faded, opportunities slipped by, sleep vanished, money was spent. But in all those years, I never lost anything so vital that God had to intervene and carry me through the darkness.​

In my twenties, I dated someone who poked fun at my persistent optimism. My joy was infectious—steps light, laughter easy, smiles gifted to strangers for no reason at all. He teased, “You are so damn happy all of the time because you ain’t been through nothing. Just wait. You will see.” I rolled my eyes, unconvinced, chalking his cynicism up to age—older, I always sought older for a sense of stability.​

I tucked that exchange into my mind’s file cabinet, retrieving it every so often whenever I needed a barometer for happiness. Are my steps still light? Do I still smile at strangers? Is my outlook unwavering and bright? Yes—it was just his own grumpiness casting shadows.​

Then, the forty-third minute arrived, ushering in a new era—Great Calamity. Suddenly, my life pivoted from minor losses to a relentless tide of unimaginable grief that lasted eighteen months. My father passed away suddenly, mid-sentence; both of my businesses stalled overnight, swept under by the pandemic’s tide. Virtual meetings left me floundering; nothing in my experience prepared me for the world’s new contours. Covid-19 was a reality I never imagined living through. I lost two brothers—one abruptly in a hospital breezeway, the other drifting away from the family altogether. My daughter’s childhood, which I treasured as my ultimate achievement, was revealed to be different than I believed. The version of my husband I loved most dissolved; a close friend, paralyzed by a stray bullet, was taken from the world a few months later.​

Loss came in waves—often just far enough apart to keep my heart in a suspended state of sadness. It was a numbness, like existing under gentle sedation. I moved through life’s motions: eating, drinking, traveling, dancing, working, praying, walking, running, building, creating—each effort drizzled in grief, like syrup pooling over a sundae. With every sorrow, I lost pieces of myself. The weight I’d worked to shed over ten years crept back on; my reflection became strange, a face rounder and eyes dimmer than I recognized.​

Responsibilities didn’t pause. Adult children needed guidance, dogs needed walking, businesses needed rebuilding, a widowed mother sought comfort, a home awaited tending, a marriage asked for renewal. I dusted off my “happy” measuring stick once again: Are my steps still light? Do I smile at strangers? Am I still an optimist? Yes—because it remains the only way I know how to live.​

In this dual reality, I have found two truths: I am, at my core, relentlessly happy. And my ex was right—I hadn’t endured true hardship before. If you’re still reading, thank you for bearing witness.

Let me leave you with these reminders:

  • God holds us close, even when we are unaware. Though I was emotionally absent for several years, not one necessary thing was stripped away; God preserved all I truly needed.​
  • When your heart aches and sadness settles in, consider the comfort of scripture—Philippians 4:5-11:

“5 Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near.
6 Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.
7 And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. 8 Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things. 9 Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me, or seen in me—put it into practice. And the God of peace will be with you.
10 I rejoiced greatly in the Lord that at last you renewed your concern for me. Indeed, you were concerned, but you had no opportunity to show it.
11 I am not saying this because I am in need, for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances.”

Kesha