The Disappearing

For decades, I disappeared.

I was Monica Lynne — wife, mother, caretaker to everyone but herself. I poured myself into others, into businesses, into rescue animals — while my own spirit withered.

Then came the pain. Fibromyalgia. Arthritis. And a darkness no pill could fix.

I'd had pain for as long as I could remember — neck pain, shoulder pain, migraines starting in my late teens. I wasn't diagnosed with fibromyalgia until I was nearly 40, but the diagnosis only brought more questions.

I was so tired of people not believing my pain was real. Even my clothes hurt me. But mostly, I was tired of feeling like less of a person. I believed I had no choice but to push and push.

Some days I don't know how I made it through.

More diagnoses came. More medications. Nothing worked. My condition worsened. Most days I felt suicidal. Most days I didn't think I'd be able to move. And somehow, every day, I got up. I moved. I cried. I hurt. I didn't sleep.

I kept telling my doctor it wasn't fibromyalgia. She ran tests. Found nothing.

In 2009, I quit the drugs cold turkey. If I'm going to die, I'm going out my way.

I went to a nutritionist and discovered the horrible, worsening pain was NOT fibromyalgia. It was a parasite. I had been right all along.

That moment changed everything. My body knew the truth before any doctor did. I just hadn't been taught to listen.

The Awakening

Then I got COVID. I had it so bad I couldn't move. I was completely alone in it. Some days I wasn't sure I'd survive. I remember crawling up the stairs on my hands and knees, grateful just to make it back to bed.

And I remember thinking so clearly: If I survive this, I will never again live as if my life doesn't matter. I will never again allow myself to be treated as if I am disposable. I will become the woman I want to be — at all costs.

The problem was, I didn't know who that was. I only knew what others thought or what I believed I should be.

So I started looking into self-help. I set boundaries. I changed my diet. I journaled nearly every day. I started making art. I began paying attention to my body — and then listening to it.

I couldn't read after COVID, so I dove into audiobooks. That's when something shifted. I stumbled upon a book that changed everything. I invested in myself — no matter the cost. I got a coach.

Slowly, I began to change. I took responsibility for all areas of my life. I learned that the life I had was created by me — because of the beliefs I had formed from my traumatized childhood.

Then came the night he threatened my rescue dog, Zsa Zsa. Something snapped. I helped him pack his bags — calmly, finally free.

But my real awakening came months later. Standing on the land I loved, I heard a voice whisper: "This place isn't healing you. It's haunting you."

So I did the bravest thing I've ever done. I walked away. With seven anxious animals and a U-Haul, I drove toward a blank canvas — terrified, but certain.

Then came the deepest discovery of all.

The Discovery

Most of the pain in my body was actually emotions I had never been allowed to feel.

A lifetime of swallowing my anger. A lifetime of being told I was too sensitive. A lifetime of trauma from childhood that I had packed away into my shoulders, my neck, my hips.

I was afraid of it. Afraid of what I was capable of.

Slowly, I allowed myself to go through my entire life and feel all the emotions — and let them go. Where experiences had traumatized me, I rewrote those stories so they empowered me instead.

The more I practiced this, the less pain I had.

I haven't had a fibromyalgia flare in over two years.

I've lost more than 50 pounds. I no longer wake in a panicked state. I sleep well — long and deep — like my body is making up for 60+ years of not sleeping.

I'm relaxed. I'm no longer in survival mode. I'm happy — and I didn't even know what true happiness was.

I've become the love of my life. My own best friend. I treat myself with love, respect, kindness, and understanding. I have learned to love my body, not hate it.

At 65, I still have days when my body doesn't want to cooperate. But instead of getting upset or worried, I just relax. Take things slow. Rest. Make some art.

On good days, I'm making art in my studio or dancing around and singing loudly. Music is constant in my home. I don't watch the news. I'm careful about the content I consume. I've changed the way I talk to myself.

I am living proof that healing is possible — not perfection, but peace. Not a cure, but a life worth living.

Starting over at 64 taught me this: Doing life scared is still doing life. My animals taught me resilience. Art taught me healing. And this messy new beginning? It's proof that joy isn't found in perfection — it's forged in the courage to choose yourself, even when your body aches or the world says "too late."

Your past doesn't own you. Your age doesn't define you. And your mess? It's where the magic starts.

The Invitation

If you're a woman over 50 living with fibromyalgia, chronic pain, or long COVID — and you're tired of pushing through flares, tired of being dismissed by doctors and loved ones, and tired of feeling like a burden — you don't have to figure this out alone.

I've been where you are. I remember what it felt like to have my clothes hurt me. I remember the suicidal thoughts when medications failed. I remember crawling up the stairs during long COVID. I also remember the moment I realized I hadn't had a flare in a year. And then two years.

I gently guide women to regulate their nervous systems, release the decades of emotions stuck in their bodies, and reclaim a life with fewer flares, more energy, and everyday joy. Not through more pushing. Through softening. Not through shame. Through kindness. Not through a one-size-fits-all protocol — through finding what works for your unique body.

I changed my own health without pharmaceutical drugs, using my mind, my emotions, and deep self-compassion. I will walk beside you as you do the same — at your pace, on your terms.

You are not broken. You are not a burden. You are a woman navigating an impossible pain with no map. And you deserve someone who will gently guide you, not try to fix you.

Healing is possible. Joy is possible. A life that feels like your own again is possible.