The Thread That Carries Us: Nurturing The Story of Ourselves.

This is a love letter to all women.....

I’m sitting by the fire, freshly bathed, a hot chai warming my hands, my laptop open in front of me. Before I write a single word, I pause and check in with how I feel.

What I notice first is gratitude. Not the materialistic kind, the kind that comes from having been through it. The kind that knows what it costs. You may know exactly what I'm talking about? Sitting here by myself, I find I have huge gratitude for the tools I’ve learned that now carry me through the darker moments. Tools shaped by trauma, chronic dis-ease, and sheer survival, once born from necessity, now they feel like trusted companions.

Life still knocks me around sometimes, I still struggle. But right now, I can see how lucky I am to meet myself with kindness instead of criticism and with curiosity instead of judgment. That alone changes everything.

It means that when the shit hits the fan, I don’t abandon myself. I stay even though its hard. And that’s why I’m here, writing — to share the simple truths I’ve lived and practised every day for the past twenty years.

Recently menopause has gathered a lot of attention and taken centre stage, mainly because there is a huge focus on how many women are struggling with this period of their lives. However there is a thread that runs through every stage of being a woman and it consciously starts when we notice our body asking for our attention, often around our first cycle, as we are initiated in to the menarche years and it continues through every transition that follows. That thread is a silent golden link of wisdom and magic that seems to be the missing link in the coverage and conversations so far. The relationship with menopause, pregnancy, our changing body, all begins when we are young and it is not seperate from any other stage.

Menarche is not just the start of bleeding. It is the moment our body whispers the welcoming of womanhood.

From that first cycle, the groundwork for everything that follows in a woman's life is already being laid. Not through demanding urgency, but through an invitation of curiosity and relationship.

Our bodie's rhythms and cycles are not linear, they don’t operate in straight lines. They move in seasons, mirroring Mother Earths natural seasons.

There are inner springs of emergence and curiosity.

Summers of vitality, confidence, outward energy.

Autumns that ask us to slow, harvest, and release.

Winters that call us inward, to rest, to feel, to be held.

Each season reflects a point in our cycle.

Yet, so many of us were taught and still are taught to override these rhythms.

To push through tiredness.

To ignore pain.

To treat cycles as inconvenient rather than intelligent.

But the body is always communicating.

Menarche is simply the first time it speaks loudly enough for us to notice.

A Relationship That Grows With Us

Womanhood is not a series of disconnected chapters.

Each phase grows out of the one before it, shaped by the relationship we’ve built with our own body over time.

When we learn to notice our energy, to listen and track our emotional health, to name what we need, whether it's rest, connection or nourishment, we begin to build trust with ourselves and a biological literacy that builds resilience. And this is what supports us through everything — fertility, pregnancy, postpartum, hormonal shifts, menopause, and the years beyond.

These stages don’t ask us to suddenly know how to care for ourselves.

They reflect what we’ve practiced all along. Because pregnancy doesn’t ask us to suddenly know how to rest. Menopause doesn’t gently introduce the idea of change.

Those transitions amplify what’s already there.

If we’ve spent years disconnected, pushing through exhaustion or ignoring discomfort or trauma, transitions can feel overwhelming or like we're in crisis. When we’ve learned to respond with kindness and curiosity and spent years in relationship with ourselves, they can feel more like familiar conversations, sometimes intense ones, but not foreign. There is no wrong way, if you are reading this and feel you have arrived late to the party, then please know it is never too late and so often our story determines when we arrive at this information. You will have gained other useful tools and abilities along the way and now it is time to nurture yourself.

Living in Seasons, Not Straight Lines

As human beings living on a cyclical planet, our bodies were never meant to move in straight lines.

Just as mother Earth is shaped by her seasons, and the natural habitat responds dutifully, we too are reflections of her habitat and therefore our natural instinct is to mirror the seasons as animals do.

There are times when you may feel expansive, energetic, and sociable.

And there are times when the body may ask you to turn inward, slow down, rest and retreat a while.

Some seasons invite growth and creativity, others will ask you to release and simplify or pause.

Each one has a purpose. When you allow yourself to move with these natural rhythms, rather than pushing against them, you may find you conserve your energy, protect your wellbeing, and feel more at home in your body. Uncomfortable physical and emotional symptoms often start to diminish or change when they are acknowledged and responded to with its need.

Nurturing Is a Practice, Not a Reward

Nurturing ourselves isn’t something we earn once everything else is done. It’s how we stay connected to ourselves in the first place. When stillness happens, the next chapter gathers strength.

There's no need to overthink it and it doesn't have to be complicated, just simple and basic. For example:

• eating in ways that truly satisfy us

• resting before we reach exhaustion

• choosing movement that feels supportive rather than demanding

• creating moments of warmth, comfort, and ease

• Journalling or just writing when the need arises. (I have often heard the rresponse 'but i'm not a writer'-this isnt the point-the point is, once out on paper, the mind starts to naturaly clear and make sense of things, dont worry about grammer or spelling, just pour it all out).

It also means allowing ourselves to lean on others. The part we often get wrong, is believing strength means doing it all by oursleves.

“Survival of the fittest” didn’t belong to the most isolated, it belonged to those who had support.

Those who shared food, childcare, wisdom, warmth. Those who knew when to lean, not just when to push.

We are not meant to do this alone. Support, connection, and being cared for are part of our biology. Knowing when you need help is not failure. It’s intelligence.

In my yoga classes, I often remind students that what we practice on the mat doesn’t stay there.

That quiet time with ourselves teaches us how we respond to challenge in everyday life.

When we notice an impatient or restless mind in a pose, we’re simply becoming aware of how we meet discomfort. And awareness is where change begins.

Once we notice, we have choice.

We can soften, slow the breath, or take rest. We can begin to build tools that support what we actually need and over time, these small responses become resources we carry with us off the mat and beyond it.

This is how practice becomes something we carry with us, gently shaping the way we move through life. Yoga is never about the postures themselves or how flexible we are, its about how we practice them and how we form a balanced intelligent relationship with ourselves and our environment.

Kindness Changes Everything

The way we speak to our bodies matters greatly. I am still learning to love my body. The world we are growing up in, makes it difficult but not impossible. Its a daily practice, just like telling our children, friends or family we love them, we need to tell ourselves.

When we meet ourselves with love and patience instead of judgment, our nervous systems soften. Our cycles feel less like something to manage and more like something to respond to.

Kindness becomes a form of nourishment.

Over time, that kindness builds resilience. It supports us through change. It gives us steadier ground as our bodies shift and evolve. We are better able to be a friend to oursleves. This may sound ridiculous, but how many times do you criticise yourself and then find yourself in an emotional dip?

Each season of being a woman we transition through is always asking for our kindness. You wouldnt expect to start a new job role and be expected to 'get it' straight away or have everybody critisise and ignore you. As we take those first steps in to menarch, pregnancy, motherhood or menopause, our bodies ask us to be patient and remember what we have learnt or listen to what we need to learn or let go of. Not all practices are helpful and unlearning beliefs and behaviours can also aid in finding the potential of kindness.

A Lifetime of Listening

Being a woman is not about staying the same. The celebrity world, social media and societal ideals will sell you a different truth. With plastic surgery and aesthetics on the rise and the idea that perfection is the golden ticket to happiness, it can be hard to step back and remind ourselves that how we look as women is more about how we feel as women.

Mental and emotional health is priceless and will literally change the way you see yourself. We start by listening to what we really need and why we need it and where that comes from?

Listening is about learning how to stay in relationship with ourselves as we change. Growing older can feel like grief as well as growth. As we shed the old parts of ourselves , it's important to honour who we are becoming as well as where we have been.

At every stage of womanhood, the body is not betraying us - it is responding to the life we have lived. The mind and body are in constant conversation, and when stress, emotion, or trauma go unacknowledged, they do not disappear; they are carried forward, often becoming louder at times of transition. Menarche, pregnancy, motherhood and menopause are not random disruptions, but powerful thresholds where the body asks us to listen more closely.

When we understand that symptoms are not failures but signals, the relationship begins to change. The body is not asking to be fixed, overridden, or silenced, it is asking to be met with curiosity, kindness, and care. As we learn to respond rather than push through, we rebuild trust with ourselves and create resilience that supports us through every season.

This is why listening matters. Not just once, but over a lifetime. When we slow down, nurture ourselves, seek support, and honour our cyclical nature, we don’t become weaker or less capable, we become sustainable. We learn how to walk alongside our bodies, guided by awareness rather than resistance.

So when you arrive at one of these milestones — whether pregnancy, menopause, or supporting a daughter, niece, or granddaughter as she begins her menarche journey, remember this: when the body becomes challenging and sends uncomfortable symptoms, begin the conversation.

Start with yourself, or with others.

Ask what has gone unheard. Where you have pushed through. What has been normalised despite the emotional or physical cost.

This listening is a lifelong practice.

And over time, it becomes a homecoming.

I am 47 and perimenopausal but still have a regular bleed and it is only now I have learnt to take the week that I bleed slowly, free from any intense exercise, including yang-style yoga. Instead, I listen. I listen to the sensations and signals that ask for cosiness, rest, and slow, gentle movement. This isn’t always easy. There is still a familiar battle in my mind—an old programme that tries to override my knowing, telling me I should do more, that I’ll lose momentum, put on weight, or become lazy if I don’t keep pushing.

I am learning not to argue with that voice anymore. I notice it. I acknowledge it. And then I choose not to enter into the drama it offers. That choice alone feels like a huge shift for me.

What I notice instead is how good it feels to soften. To cosy up under an electric blanket, or sit in front of an open fire with a hot chocolate warming one hand and a creative magazine in the other—The Simple Things is a favourite. These moments feel regulating, like my nervous system is finally allowed to exhale.

Another way I let myself fully let go and feel held during this time is through bathing rituals. I’ll run a hot bath, light candles, pour a cup of chai, sometimes bring a few snacks, and listen to an audio story. I top up the water when needed, keeping it deeply warm, allowing my body to rest without urgency.

That week in my cycle is no longer about productivity or proving anything. It is about honouring my cycle. Trusting my body. And remembering that rest is not something I earn—it is something I return to. Just like the women of ancient times when entering the red tent together. They had each other to give them permission but now we must do that for ourselves and slowly maybe we can change the story for others.

 I really wish I had learnt this stuff in my youth, especially through pregnancy and being a new mother. My wish is that I give someone else permission to do the same by writing about it.

If your life feels busy or your work feels overwhelming, it may be worth gently exploring other ways of working—whether that means changing direction, reducing hours, or imagining alternatives you haven’t yet allowed yourself to consider. And if change isn’t possible right now, small shifts still matter. Rearranging the edges of your day—waking a little earlier, going to bed a little sooner, or taking just ten quiet minutes to sit with yourself—can create space to reconnect and listen to what you need.

I find practising Yin Yoga in my pjs with my cats extremely relaxing and never fails to reset my nervous system.

And if rest is truly required, know that support exists. There are legal protections in place around the symptoms of pregnancy, menopause and menstruation in the workplace if it affects the daily quality of your life, recognising the very real impact it can have on wellbeing. Asking for time, or understanding is not weakness—it is self-respect.

Sending you Love and warmth

Jess