Symptoms No One Could Explain. A Lesson I Didn’t Expect.

My body has always been my teacher—I had just been programmed not to listen for the first three decades.

It was my body that eventually gave me the wake-up call that I was burned out. I was exhausted despite healthy habits, experienced random crippling abdominal pain and severe heartburn, and had brain fog every afternoon.

I used to think, "Once my body is healed, everything will be better." Just like I used to think, "If I didn’t have to do this job that is making my life so stressful, everything would be better."

But those thoughts—the need to fix or change something in order to finally find relief—are part of a never-ending lie.

One of the mantras that grounds me now is: "Not everything can be perfect at the same time."

It helps me be at peace with my current reality—the life I get to be living right now, even when there are things I’d like to be different. This isn’t resignation. It’s acceptance of the natural flow of life.

And that shift helped me start seeing my body not as a problem to fix, but as a compass and a teacher.

The Next Layer: When Healing Doesn't Mean Perfect

Despite healing my gut, recovering from burnout, and feeling strong and truly thriving in many ways, the reality is—I still experience unexplained symptoms.

For a while, they scared me. You can hear me in the process of transitioning from fear to acceptance in episode 67 of my podcast at the start of 2024. 

I was experiencing swelling in the joints of my right hand, random allergic reactions, and low energy, among other things. And it was easy to fall into that old mindset again: Why is this happening after I’ve been doing all the right things?

I did endless tests, bounced from specialist to specialist, and none of them had answers—other than maybe it was early autoimmune disease. The plan was essentially to wait until something worsened enough to be treated with medication.

That’s what happens when we ignore the connection between the mind and body—and treat body parts as if they exist in isolation.

The Right Hand, Hormones, and Masculine Energy

Several years ago when I was first realizing I was burned out, I was seeing a functional medicine NP. Among other abnormalities, my hormones were really low -including estrogen. She talked about hormone replacement therapy, but I was so overwhelmed to be talking about that in my early 30’s and decided to focus on addressing my stress and burnout first.

A few months ago, I requested to have my hormone levels re-checked (despite extensive testing from specialists, that hadn't been on their radar). My levels were still low. Since our healthcare system largely ignores hormone levels unless you want to get pregnant, I have no idea how early this really started.

Sometimes, the approach to women’s health and pain feels archaic. A post for another day. 

Before getting those hormone results, a thought crossed my mind as I was looking down at the swollen knuckles on my right hand that seemed to stump everyone.

I wondered if there was any symbolism for the right versus left side of the body, and did a quick Google search. What I found was intriguing.

The right side of the body is traditionally associated with masculine energy, while the left side is feminine energy.

Regardless of gender identity, we all have both masculine and feminine energies.

• Masculine energy: logic, focus, structure, independence, stability, control, giving, action
• Feminine energy: emotion, intuition, empathy, feeling, creativity, receiving, surrender

I started to wonder: What if this swelling is symbolic of a deeper imbalance I’ve been conditioned to live in?

As a high achiever recovering from perfectionism, I have definitely leaned into the masculine energy more than the feminine. I thought masculine energy was what led to results and success.

Now when I notice the swelling start to show up, I ask myself:

What am I trying to control or push through?

Where can I tune in, feel more, and surrender instead?

That also led me to give myself permission to explore reiki - a therapy I intuitively was feeling pulled to but logically had been dismissing. More about that in part 2, but long story short - the swelling has dramatically improved.

What This Has to Do With Burnout in Vet Med

I’ve been reflecting on how this shows up in veterinary medicine.

So many of us enter this profession because we feel deeply. We’re drawn by empathy, connection, and the desire to nurture and help animals. 

Yes, we have the masculine energy that is drawn to science, logic, and achieving, but I think the reason why we choose vet med over other medical paths is because of that connection and empathy we feel with animals.  

But to survive the system—to get into vet school and then function in practice—we often have to lean heavily into masculine energy. We’re rewarded for our logic, productivity, control, and emotional suppression.

And eventually, many of us disconnect from the very parts of ourselves that led us here.

We learn to:

• Value facts over intuition
• Give endlessly, but struggle to receive
• Compartmentalize instead of feel
• Associate "professionalism" with emotional suppression

We develop a callous over our compassion and resist feeling in order to stay safe.

In order to survive in vet med, we self-abandon a key part of our identity. 

Nervous System, Survival Mode, and What Needs to Change

It always comes back to the nervous system—because it controls everything.

Vet med has normalized (and often selected for) traits of chronic survival mode:

• Flight response: over-achieving, perfectionism, always busy
• Fawn response: people-pleasing and disconnecting from our own needs, over-giving

These are all traits associated with imbalanced masculine energy in an effort to survive.

What’s missing is safety:

• Safety to feel
• Safety to receive support
• Safety to listen to your gut when something doesn’t feel right

This is why we need to stop glorifying survival mode and start building nervous system awareness into how we care for ourselves—and how we care for each other.

We need spaces where it’s safe to be human again. To feel.

My Body Was Never the Problem

For a long time, I thought my body was failing me.

But it’s my imperfect body—with its unexplained symptoms—that has led me down the path that’s most aligned with my purpose.

Those imperfections are what helped me to find my way back home to my whole self. And they are what have led me down paths to lessons and perspectives that have brought immense richness to my life. 

I’m never done learning. After living in survival mode for 30+ years, it takes time to heal. And maybe some parts of me will never fully "heal"—and that’s okay.

Instead of asking, Why is this happening to me when I treat my body so well?—I’ve started asking:

What is my body teaching me?
What’s the next lesson?

That question has always led me somewhere unexpected—
but more aligned.
More like me.
It's my body's way of helping me to stay on the path I was meant to be on.

And it’s led me to the very feeling I was chasing when I thought everything had to be fixed or perfect:
The feeling of being exactly where I’m meant to be.

Your Turn

What about you?

Is there an imbalance between those two energies in your life?

What might your body be trying to teach you?
What do you think of this idea that vet med is disconnecting us from the feminine energy that is part of what leads us into the profession?

I'd love to hear your thoughts.

In your corner,

P.s. This is not meant to be an anti-Western medicine approach! As a veterinarian and someone who absolutely loves science, experimenting, and medicine, I think it's an important piece of health. However, I think our current approach to healthcare also put too much emphasis on the masculine energy approach and in doing so we are losing an important piece of the puzzle. I'll dive deeper into that topic in another post.