I went to a new doctor this week, one I haven't seen before.  Always daunting. I went in ready to demand some answers. Namely; how do I make my crazy metabolism work without needing to carve two hours a day out for bootcamp level exercise. Not that I'm opposed to said exercise. It's just not realistic to maintain for the rest of my life. I can't manage it now and we haven't even adopted our babies yet! And I know it has to be sustainable, because I've come to accept the fact that health is not a goal.

I'm never going to wake up one day having crossed a finish line when it comes to discipline and focus in keeping my particular physiology in order. There won't be a day where I've hit the goal and can sit back on my laurels.

So with that in mind, I needed to know what could be done to wrangle my hormones and my metabolism and my insulin and my all-the-things.

I came in ready to make a stand. But this sweet, kind doctor met me with compassion that leveled me a little. After we'd discussed the struggle ...after I shoved a photo in her face, to prove I'm not just a lazy glutton, ignorant of healthy lifestyle, after I explained that my carbs and calories and protein are all within the guidelines for my particular health situation and how I'm working out on a regular basis and ....still. After she listened and asked good questions and then helped me make a plan for going forward, she said the kindest, most compassionate words. She looked me right in the eye and said;

"It's not your fault. You need to know you haven't done anything wrong, that you're not crazy, you do have to work harder than most people to be healthy. But you didn't do anything wrong. This is a problem of genetics."

It can be discouraging to sometimes feel like you can't live a regular life, without your health spiraling. It can be discouraging to feel like you can work hard - so hard - but all that effort and result is too fragile to survive normal life, that it all goes to hell with the smallest mistake or the least break in focus.

It was so kind of her to take that moment and offer those words, because while I don't waste a ton of time kicking myself, it feels like a failure nonetheless, and often one I'm powerless to control or change.

So, to the girls out there with PCOS, let me pass along the true and compassionate words from my doctor.

It's not your fault. You haven't done anything wrong. You're not crazy. It's a problem of genetics.

(P.S.  I loved her and all, but I'm really furious with her, too. She's making me get bloodwork done. #needlewimp #Idon'twanna 😫)