One day in 2019, I discovered PMDD.

This is the same day I swallowed the belief that it couldn’t be cured. In quick succession, I learned PMDD existed, got diagnosed, and then subscribed to the prevailing theory that said it was a genetic disorder. This narrative — that the only escape was through menopause, either natural or surgical — shaped much of my early experiences with PMDD.

Yet, this perspective felt extraordinarily limiting. It seemed to anchor me in a hopeless waiting game, enduring cycles of profound disturbance with no real promise of resolution except in the cessation of menstrual cycles altogether.

To assume that something cannot be healed is a terrible place to start; I began reflecting on the need for a broader exploration into the power of our perceptions and internal capabilities.

PMDD shifts reality.

A life that made us smile on day 13 can find us weeping on day 18 with zero external change. We get this up front-and-center demonstration every single cycle of how radically our perception can shift in such a brief amount of time. We are being schooled in the change of perception and how it changes our reality.

Forced down into the depths of PMDD each cycle I had little choice but to observe PMDD operating inside of me. These shifts in perception illuminated the suffering but hinted at an untapped potential — if PMDD could radically alter our perceptions, could we not also harness this power to shift them favorably? Every cycle taught me brutally but effectively about my capacity for change.

My breakthrough came from a seemingly unlikely source — love.

I noted a recurring theme through my years of battling PMDD; being in love softened the harshness of my symptoms. This observation was pivotal. I was spared from the expected depths of PMDD when I fell in love. If love could influence my perception and experience of PMDD so effectively, could there not be a deeper potential for healing in this emotional state?

As impossible as it seemed, the path toward healing meant reconfiguring my relationship with PMDD. It was about redirecting the narrative from combat and resistance to acceptance and love. I had to fall in love with PMDD even as it challenged every instinct to reject this monstrous part of me.

The real transformation began when I internalized the notion that PMDD was not just happening to me but was a part of me that needed love and acceptance.

Through radical compassion and unconditional love for every aspect of my being, including PMDD, I found my healing.

Today, I stand on the other side of my journey, having completely healed my PMDD after being told by doctors that it was impossible. PMDD forced me into cycles of suffering so painful that I was willing to try anything— including loving the thing I thought was causing the pain.

This transformation was born from an unwavering belief in love’s transformative power, supplemented by the systematic reframing of my perceptions. My journey suggests that perhaps, for many struggling with PMDD, a similar path might unfold, offering relief and recovery through the profound power of embracing and transforming perception.