From Burnout to Flow: Navigating Cyclical Living

My journey has been cyclical, but I couldn’t fully see it until I lived through it. If you had met me in 2020 or 2021 and told me to slow down and embrace cyclical living, I would have laughed. Back then, I was just beginning to truly live my life. I was deeply immersed in my career, constantly moving from one training session to the next. I spent countless hours in yoga studios across Melbourne and the Peninsula, teaching class after class, driven by the need to be everywhere and do everything. I though I was Wonder Woman.

My weekdays were filled with back-to-back sessions, while my weekends were reserved for teacher training. I became the teacher at the front of the room, telling my students to rest, while I myself needed the rest more than anyone. I would watch my students leave my class, refreshed and full of energy, while I was left feeling completely burnt out. Yet, even when I finally found a moment to be on my mat, my mind was a whirlwind. I was on a mission—constantly pushing myself to do more, achieve more, in the hope that someone would recognize my efforts. I couldn’t meditate without the relentless chatter in my mind, even though I practiced every day.

Then, at the end of 2021, I hit a wall—a physical injury. It was my body’s way of telling me that I needed to slow down. I found myself in treatments every week, first with a chiropractor, then exploring clinical pilates. Pilates, surprisingly, made me feel better, and I saw an opportunity to help others in a new way, just as pilates had helped heal my own pain. So, in early 2022, I embraced a new challenge and became a certified pilates instructor. Even before I graduated, I received job offers, and within a year, I was teaching 36-40 reformer classes each week.

In 2023, I was named Trainer of the Year. On the outside, I wore that title like a crown, but deep inside, I knew something was amiss. I also wore another crown— "queen of burnout" and "people pleaser," constantly chasing external validation. My days were a blur of early mornings, late nights, and endless sessions. I’d wake up at 4:30 AM to prepare for my 6 AM class block, squeeze in a few hours for meal prep, laundry, or appointments, then return to teach until 9 PM. I was perpetually exhausted.

The only time I allowed myself to rest was during my menstrual phase. I convinced myself that if I rested during my period, I could push through the rest of my cycle. I would take a few days off, lower my guard, and even ask for help during this time. But then, in May 2023, everything came to a head. I hit another wall—a huge one. While teaching, I suddenly found myself in excruciating pain. My clients panicked, and an ambulance was called. I lost consciousness, and when I came to, I was in the back of the ambulance. The next thing I remember is lying in a hospital bed, an IV in my arm.

The first thing the doctor asked me was, “How’s your day going? How was your sleep? What about your coffee, alcohol, and nutrition intake? How often do you exercise?” I nervously laughed and told him, “I’m not a big drinker, I prep my meals, and I get enough nutrition and exercise.” But when I admitted that I was drinking 6-7 cups of coffee a day just to survive and that my sleep was practically non-existent, I realized the truth: I was living on fumes. I learned that I had a ruptured ovarian cyst, and my thyroid was on the verge of dysfunction.

Even after this wake-up call, I still didn’t learn my lesson. Two weeks of being bedridden with endone (a strong painkiller), feeling disempowered and defeated, I hated myself for letting it get this far. As soon as I started feeling better, I jumped right back into my chaotic routine, ignoring the lessons my body had been desperately trying to teach me.

It wasn’t until I completed my cycle coach training with Claire Baker in 2022-2023 that everything began to shift. I was introduced to the concept of the “ovulation shadow,” and it finally clicked. I had always felt drained and out of balance during ovulation, but I still didn’t understand why I wasn’t feeling the vibrant, energetic surge that the books promised. The truth was that I wasn’t honouring my body the way I thought I was. Yes, I’d rest during my bleed, but as soon as my period ended, I filled my schedule back up again, pushing myself to move too quickly. I was like a plant that had just begun sprouting, yet I expected it to bloom.

It wasn’t until I truly befriended my ovulation phase that everything started to make sense. I began to understand how to care for my temple—not just during my menstrual phase, but throughout my entire cycle. True cyclical living wasn’t about just pushing through or resting during one phase—it was about embracing the ebb and flow of energy that each phase brings, honouring those shifts with love and respect. I learned to listen to the moon, to the seasonal changes, and to eat in alignment with both my cycle and the seasons. I learned to move my body according to its rhythm, and to honour the natural cycles of both my body and the Earth.

Now, I’ve learned from my mistakes, and I am deeply passionate about sharing this wisdom with others. Cyclical living isn’t a trend—it’s a powerful, sustainable way to live in harmony with our bodies’ natural rhythms. Through my own journey and by connecting with the collective consciousness of women, I want to offer the tools, practices, and rituals that have supported me along the way.

Cyclical living has completely transformed the way I approach life, and I am dedicated to helping others experience that same shift. It’s not about working harder—it’s about working in alignment with our bodies. This practice has taught me to rest when I need it, to honour my energy at each stage of my cycle, and to find balance in a way I never thought possible.