I never set out to change my body. I just wanted my brain to calm down a bit.
You know that low-level irritation that sits in the background of your day? Not loud enough to complain about, but loud enough to notice. That was it. Nothing dramatic. Just… constant.
It showed up in tiny ways.
Pulling my jumper down when I stood up.
Standing slightly angled in group photos.
Mentally planning outfits instead of just getting dressed.
Individually, none of it mattered. Together, it added up to a quiet drain on my energy. One night, folding laundry, I caught myself avoiding a perfectly nice top and thought, why am I still doing this?
That was the moment.
I didn’t announce anything. I didn’t even fully commit in my own head.
I just started reading. Slowly. Carefully. Late at night, with one eye half-closed and a healthy amount of scepticism. Most websites felt loud. Over-promising. Glossy.
What I wanted was someone to talk to me like a human.
So I booked a consultation — telling myself I could cancel at any point.
The best part wasn’t the information. It was the tone.
No rushing. No pressure. No “this will fix everything.” Just clear answers and the freedom to say, “I need to think about it.” That alone was enough to make me feel in control.
Sometimes it’s not the treatment that convinces you — it’s being treated like an adult.
I expected nerves. I expected awkwardness.
What I got was calm.
There was a moment of strong cold. A strange suction feeling. Then numbness. I checked my phone. I replied to messages. Life carried on.
There’s a short massage at the end that’s uncomfortable for a few seconds — not going to lie — but it passes quickly. Then you’re done.
No big reveal. No mirror moment. Just… finished.
This is where patience matters.
Nothing happened at first. I kept checking, then told myself to stop checking. A few weeks later, things felt slightly different. Then one morning, without thinking about it, I got dressed and moved on with my day.
That’s when I realised something had changed.
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Yes, there was a physical difference. Subtle, but real.
But the bigger shift was this:
I stopped thinking about it.
No adjusting. No background commentary in my head. No tiny rituals. That mental quiet was worth more than I expected.
If someone rushes you or talks around your concerns, that’s your answer.
If you want instant change, this will frustrate you. If you’re okay with slow and natural, it can be surprisingly satisfying.
Not for photos. Not for comments. Not for anyone else’s approval. Those reasons don’t last.
This wasn’t about becoming someone new.
It was about letting go of something old.
And sometimes, that’s enough.