Meet natasha

Growing up in a fast-paced household, I was fortunate that my earliest years were slow. Almost as if they anchored me, sharing with me another way.
Like most of us, my teenage years came with the unspoken lesson that the word period was something to hide, and that the pill was a simple solution - one that quietly removed us from our natural rhythm.

​

In my twenties, I would often wonder how it was possible for me to feel like one woman one week and someone entirely different the next. I thought there must be something wrong with me, as being calm and consistent was the goal, yet I was pushed into a world that never stopped. It was a catastrophe waiting to happen.

​

At twenty-four, I began journaling daily reflections, sensing there was a pattern to my madness. Like many, I abandoned the idea of trying to figure it all out. It was more fashionable at the time to be the “cool girl,” the one who didn’t feel too deeply or need too much. Looking back, I see how heart-breaking it was that a young woman had to sit alone trying to piece together a map of her own body - a wisdom that should have been passed down, not pushed down.  Unaware  that the knowing was already within, stored deep in the cells, waiting to be remembered.

​

Five years later, motherhood cracked me open. The overwhelm hit like a storm. I couldn’t read my own needs, let alone meet everyone else’s. Four years into parenting, I found myself on the floor whispering, "I can’t do this." My partner simply said, "you can".  In that moment, something shifted - I can.

​

That was the beginning of my return,  back to my body and back to my rhythm.

A long, winding journey later, 

A dear friend described our cycle to me in a most wonderful way.

 

She said it’s a bit like this:

"During the follicular phase, you’re the woman walking around the house with a washing basket, cheerfully calling out, “Throw it in! Mud, socks, towels - no worries, I’ve got it all.”

​

By ovulation, you're thinking to yourself, "I'm unreal - what washing? I am  all over it." 

​

Luteal rolls in and the basket’s starting to get full again, so you place it down and say, “Okay, that’s enough for now, I’ll deal with it later.”

​

Then comes the last few days of luteal phase - and suddenly you’re walking around the house saying, “Why the fuck is there washing everywhere? WASH YOUR OWN CLOTHES!.... I mean, please."​​

​

I just sat there, staring at her, thinking, “You’re kidding me… there’s a pattern? I’m not insane - oh, thank God!”
 ​

It was a light-hearted way of showing how our energy and tolerance shift through the month - but beneath the humour is deep wisdom. When we learn to see these patterns as natural, not chaotic, we can meet each phase with more understanding and compassion instead of resistance or guilt.

I don't want any women to walk this journey alone and my hope is that they don't have to spend 20 years trying to "figure it out." That every woman can be fully supported from the very first drop.
 

Natasha Saunders

My Yala.