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My Health Journey
A Nutrition-Powered Journey to a New You
The Early Years
My health journey begins in Eastern Europe in the early 1980s, a time when my childlike sense of invincibility collided with a prevailing disregard for personal physical and mental well-being, at least in my immediate surroundings.
In those days, when a meal comprised of cigarettes and coffee was deemed something normal and anyone daring to explore unconventional diets earned weird looks, when store shelves often lacked wholesome (and sometimes even basic) necessities, and when one piece of banana was what Santa Claus was somehow able to bring as a gift to the entire family, it was not unusual to see adults in their 40s already taking a handful of medications every morning with a shrug of their shoulder, as if saying: “Why worry?
It’s life, we all have to suffer and die anyway.”
The authority on all things health belonged to those in white coats, and they were unassailable; questioning their wisdom was never on the agenda. Sadly, physical well-being wasn’t the only one taking a backseat: when it came to mental health, the prevailing sentiment also seemed to be, “If overindulging in eating, drinking, smoking (or other types of addictions) doesn’t fix it, then it probably doesn’t exist.”
My childhood was full of endless hours spent running around outside with all the other neighborhood kids, often forgetting about the necessity to eat (along with the disillusioned world of the adults). Seasonal homegrown food remained abundant even to those of us in the socialist-style city apartment complexes, as it was simple and free for anyone to obtain a piece of government-owned land on
the outskirts of the town to grow our own crops in exchange for a percentage of goods given back to the state. Of course, most families were blessed with at least one knowledgeable Grandma who then turned all the harvested produce into an endless supply of jams, pies, soups, or beverages. (To this day, I admire their dazzling resourcefulness: those tiny, Soviet-style apartments and kitchens were really not designed to live a normal family life and make and store food for extended lengths of time … for obvious reasons.)
At any rate, even though we still affectionately refer to those times as “the cursed years”, my health was never a thing I had to worry about, and I was strong and robust well into my teenage years, which coincided with the winds of change blowing over the Eastern Bloc from the ’90s, transforming this weird, closed, yet cosy world of ours seemingly overnight.
The Times of Change
The 90s in Hungary, much like all across Eastern Europe, unfolded in a blur, marked by spectacular changes happening seemingly every time we blinked. Fast food chains began to emerge from nowhere, ushering in an era full of flashy junk food and beverage commercials choreographed to catchy, modern tunes, advertised by beautiful, hip, young, and perfect people with sparkling smiles that almost convinced us they held the key to Canaan itself. As teenagers reveling in our newfound freedom as is, we found ourselves immersed in a world teeming with “cool” foods and drinks everywhere we looked, mirroring just what we saw on TV. How groovy!
Amidst the overflowing shelves of tempting and colorful treats, a paradox emerged – the never-before-seen abundance of goodies quickly became out of reach for many of us as the pockets of most hardworking families grew emptier. Indeed, adults found themselves working tirelessly, way, way more than they ever did in the years of the previous “cursed” era that demanded stellar socialist work ethic and punished anything less than that.
Fortunately, the novelty of frequenting places like McDonald’s wore off quickly as financial constraints set in. (In fact, before my time in the United States, I could count on one hand the number of visits to these establishments.) As everybody’s workload increased, pre-packaged, nearly ready-to-serve meals became a daily norm for many. The little parcel of government land that not that long ago supplied so many fresh goods for us became our own property; only, now, no one seemed to have the time to tend to grow crops anymore, no one but elderly grandparents with ailing health, that is.
During these transformative years, my already too little attention to food waned even further. Whether hastily inhaling meals in between classes, during long-distance bus rides for my education, internships, or later for work, my nutritional knowledge and attention were almost nonexistent. By now, previously weird and frowned upon diets suddenly became popular, catching my interest too, of course, often secretly genuinely yearning for beautiful, in my home unusual, “hip” healthy food, but with little free time and a lot of family members set in their old-fashioned dietary ways to share our tiny kitchen with, these enthusiastic attempts rarely lasted longer than a few weeks at a time.
My tall and athletic frame, once effortlessly maintaining its not-too-skinny but far from overweight form, began to noticeably plump out in the middle. I didn’t pay any serious attention: I knew from experience that a brief stint of low-calorie dieting would swiftly return me to my desired weight. Oftentimes, though, I simply shrugged, confident I could tackle this problem any time, and there was no real hurry.
Yet, that determination perpetually lingered for tomorrow, next week, next month, or January 1st – and suddenly, life took a monumental turn: I found myself in the United States, surrounded by a cornucopia of food beyond my wildest imagination – a spectacle not even the dawn of the 90s and its flashy, upbeat food ads could possibly prepare me for.
Life in America, Life as a New Mom
Transitioning and adjusting to daily life in America posed its own set of new and unknown hurdles for me in a multitude of ways. Food was just one among these challenges.
I found the landscape dotted with an overwhelming number of fast-food chains, each vying for attention at every turn, and its allure -being suddenly quite affordable, quick, easy, and abundant compared to what I was used to- became hard to resist. Portion sizes too were easily double or triple than what I knew to be normal, and the plates themselves seemed colossal.
The concept of "All You Can Eat Buffets" became a novel, yet disconcerting, part of my new culinary vocabulary. Witnessing others piling plateful after plateful, accompanied by unlimited sugary fizzy drinks, all for the same fixed price, often bedazzled me, while leaving me with a heavy heart at all the same time—the wasted leftovers on every table often seemed enough to sustain a small family elsewhere in the world.
Amid this abundance, I found myself succumbing to the convenience of eating out rather than preparing my own meals. Once familiar vegetables and fruits now tasted somehow weird and foreign, while junk food provided a consistently predictable flavor, coupled with an emotional and physical high, all at a fraction of the cost compared to homemade meals. Time constraints further fueled this shift, as there seemed to be little to do in the suburbs -my new home- without covering significant distances by car
—save for the ubiquitous fast-food pitstops at every intersection.
As a former city girl, the lack of opportunities for impromptu walks, casual socializing, or going on quick errands took an emotional toll, and food gradually emerged as a reliable solace to fill the void. As my family then began to expand with the arrival of my children, my diet and food-related awareness took a nosedive to previously unknown depths. The nine-month stretches of unrelenting "all-day sickness" left me ravenously hungry around the clock in between my pregnancies, and the years of sleep deprivation took their toll. Chronic stress became a constant companion, and slowly and subtly, my physical health began to erode, eventually everything falling apart, akin to a cascade of dominos collapsing simultaneously.
Dominoes Falling
In the initial months following my switch to the Standard American Diet, signs of trouble began to surface. I found myself grappling with GERD and persistent coughing after every meal. Yet, it seemed manageable, and I attributed it to the stress of adjusting to
a completely new lifestyle. Little did I know that the true unraveling of my health would begin to unfold just a few years later, shortly after the birth of my third daughter.
It all started with a severe bout of the Norwalk virus sweeping through our household, which resulted in extreme exhaustion that initially masked all that was brewing inside; however, as days passed, alarming symptoms began to emerge in rapid succession.
Climbing stairs became a Herculean task as unbelievable fatigue and dizziness overtook me. I stumbled inexplicably, and waves of weakness in my arms caused objects to slip from my hands without warning. Before I could get to the bottom of what was happening to me, I discovered that acute, daily gallbladder attacks surpass the pain of childbirth by a significant margin!
Recovery from this supposedly simple surgery proved quite challenging, as my body seemingly resisted every attempt at restoration.
I quickly developed duodenal ulcers first, then sudden hormonal imbalances that eventually led to the explosion of one of my ovaries, and later, a “one-in-a-million” ectopic pregnancy developing near the liver on the abdominal wall. Aside from an extreme blood loss that nearly proved fatal and the resulting traumatic recovery in the hospital, other diagnoses began to pile up—Fibromyalgia, neurological symptoms reminiscent of Multiple Sclerosis, and an increasingly unmanageable struggle with IBS.
By this time, our family had relocated to rural Alaska, and we were adjusting to life surrounded by untouched nature, which brought both solace and significant challenges. Accessing local health specialists became an arduous task, and life-saving procedures required a daunting 400-mile airlift out of town to the state’s largest city with better medical equipment.
Regardless, I adored the wild, breathtaking nature around us: our short summers with 24-hour daylights and 8-month-long, extreme winters often without seeing the Sun for months. Those endlessly dark, often 50-below winters finally allowed me to slow down and begin to take an honest look at my health -physical and emotional- as well as my diet. Feeling like a pathetic shadow of my former, vibrant self -while still gaining weight regardless of my best efforts to control it- I finally began the grandest, deepest, and most profound journey I have taken in my life so far: I was thirsty for knowledge of myself, physiology and psyche, and was willing to do anything it took to experience a radical and tangible transformation that I’ve yearned for in my life since childhood.
The Path of the Healing and the Path of the Healer
Albeit at this point I've never yet heard the term integrative health, I instinctively knew that my health has suffered for far more reasons than merely failing to make the right dietary choices after living in the land of plenty: while eagerly taking care of my family to the point of burnout, I've severely neglected my own spiritual well-being and mental wholeness, as well.
Socially, "Bush Alaska" life was beyond isolating, raising four little ones and running a large household took all my physical energy, even when I slowly began to feel better. I often stared into the lightless and abyss-like Arctic winter sky referring to it as a Black Mirror, which, if approached with silent introspection and sincere eagerness, would open up the single most crucial informational highway, intuition, that would ultimately bring answers, likely buried in one's very own psychological depths, profoundly interwoven into every bodily function and ailment.
I knew I had to connect the dots between my body seemingly giving up on me, and me mourning the things that brought me psychological stamina, joy, and the eagerness of living that I’ve been feeling just as disconnected from as from my body and its physical and tangible wellbeing. I was well aware of my negative thought patterns very quickly materializing into negative choices (dietary and beyond), and I now desired nothing more than understanding and undoing these habits to upgrade this life experience into one with better emotional resilience and a matching, vigorously healthy body - for myself, and everyone else interested in
and open to a total transformation.
Learning and self-development, thus, became my single-minded passion, over time. Whether I explored aromatherapy and herbalism, dream journaling, energy medicine, and Jungian Deep Psychology - my overarching goal was to balance body, mind, and soul, unifying their health into a complete, holistic, optimally functioning whole package that could transform one’s life radically, with lasting results that reach far beyond just doing well, that indeed equip the seeker with true, raw, deep knowledge and understanding to direct their lives towards a fulfillment beyond what they ever dared to dream of - in a body that’s supportive of the process, every step of the way.
Alongside earning my Bachelor’s in Psychology and Addiction Counseling, I also increasingly began to focus my attention on my physical body and its total wellness, taking every opportunity to relax, restore, replenish, and rebalance, and it has proven beyond grateful for all the love, nurture, and gentle attention it received: I’ve experienced a rebirth of my energy and wholeness in ways I’ve never dared to hope, just a few years prior.
My healing journey and health-centered lifestyle now allowed me to fulfill one of my greatest desires I’d given up on long ago, exploring the Mediterranean in Europe, specifically Greece, a culture I’ve long felt possessed all key pieces for one’s total well-being: historically stellar diet, balanced lifestyle, a strong sense of community, and, of course, plenty of sunshine and sea shores for year-round physical activity and mental health optimization!
Looking back at those crucial years of all-around self-healing, I understand my now deceased Father’s words (words that of a magnetic person and a beloved alternative medicine practitioner both) from many years ago: “If your healing journey is genuine, you inevitably become the Healer, yourself, during the process.”
Present and Future
Genuine and all-around transformative healing is an ongoing journey, a steadfast companion that accompanies you throughout your lifetime. It demands not just attention but a continuous commitment to vigilance, honesty, curiosity, and adaptability. It beckons you to examine every aspect of your life through a laser-focused lens, even when it causes discomfort, always revealing the next step with keen precision.
Yet, at the same time, healing transformation asks you to take a deep breath, relax, and develop a deep, almost ancient trust in the restorative abilities encoded within your body, mind, and soul, that'll surely carry you to the surface no matter how much deep you feel you've descended - if only these processes are supported from every angle that underpin human wellbeing.
From the dance of conscious attention and unconscious trust, the path forward emerges, afresh and anew every day, paving the way to physical and holistic betterment that will no doubt lead to a more fulfilled life with a body that’s functioning as it should, and no longer an obstacle but a reliable partner as you plan your present and future adventures.
Similarly, my healing journey never ends. Throughout the years, even after finding my own way back to well-being, I’ve become aware of other bits of my health puzzle that had even further drastic positive effects on my life, once I’ve begun to understand them better. The need for always taking care of my microbiome, hormonal balance, thyroid, and adrenal health are all things that I’ve discovered through the years, and keeping them in balance is a fine art that I will happily pay attention to in the future chapters of my life.
Working on my Master of Science in Integrative Nutrition, I feel, has united my interests, passions, and dreams in one holistic vision that truly has become my personal and professional motto: by the power encoded in optimal nutrition that supports your body, mind, and soul - and through the mental and spiritual wellness that also deeply heals your physical body - go forth on your path to fulfill old dreams and to dream anew, become whom you always wanted to be, trusting that your body -supported by the right biological information and psychological mindset- will always carry you through.