From Burnout to Breakthrough: My Midlife Rebuild at 52

At 52 years old—after surviving cervical cancer, raising three boys as a single mom, walking through menopause, and giving decades to everyone but myself—I finally reached the point where something had to change. I didn’t overhaul my whole life overnight. I started simple. Mornings began with 30 grams of protein within 30 minutes of waking—every single day. Nurri protein. Javvy coffee. No excuses. Fuel first, hesitation later. I pumped my lymphatic system. I bounced on my rebounder for sixty seconds. I hydrated like it was my second job—water, electrolytes or Celtic salt—whatever kept my body supported instead of depleted. Then I opened my Bible, journaled, and reminded myself that God wasn’t done with me yet. Working full-time as a medical coder meant sitting for eight hours a day, so every hour or so, I stood up and bounced or jumped on my vibration plate. Movement became a promise—not punishment. Meals were on repeat. Taco meat and veggies for lunch. Chicken and a vegetable for dinner. No complicated recipes. No mental gymnastics. Just eating like a woman who finally respected her body. I took my creatine. I drank my cortisol-supporting SuperCalm. I moved my body at the gym—30 minutes of heavy lifting, a stretch, and the sauna. No cardio marathons. No perfection. Just consistency. And slowly… brick by brick… something in me shifted. Just building muscle, building confidence, and building momentum. Then one day, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror—really saw myself—and I didn’t recognize her. But this time, that unfamiliar reflection made me cry the happiest tears of my life. In six months I had lost 80 pounds. I dropped six dress sizes. My libido—who had apparently been on vacation—finally peeked around the corner. My brain fog lifted. The fear of losing my job because I couldn’t focus evaporated. My relationship healed. My emotions stopped running the show. And I suddenly had nothing to wear because everything was too big. But the most powerful transformation wasn’t on my body—it was in my mind. People asked me, “How did you do it?” And when I said discipline, they rolled their eyes and said “Nope, too hard.” But discipline wasn’t punishment. It wasn’t restriction. It wasn’t misery. It was simply loving myself enough to do the same small habits every day, until they became my identity. I didn’t overwhelm myself with mile-long to-do lists. I didn’t spend hours in the gym. I didn’t chase motivation. I just did what I said I would do—over and over and over. And somewhere along that path, something shifted: I realized that happiness is not a reward—happiness is a choice, practiced in the tiny moments, regardless of circumstances. As a woman who spent decades giving everything to everyone—my boys, my jobs, my responsibilities—I had forgotten that I existed, too. But those habits brought me back to life. If I could rebuild my body, my faith, my confidence, my joy and my hormones through perimenopause and menopause—after cancer, burnout, motherhood, heartbreak, and fear—any woman can. This blog, this journal, this chapter of my life started with one question: How did I do this? And now the answer has turned into something bigger than weight loss—it has become my mission: To show other midlife women that it is never too late to reclaim your body, your mind, your health, and your identity. One day. One habit. One choice at a time.