One year into studying Holistic Nutrition. Somehow I’m already a third of the way through, which honestly feels a little surreal. I’ve got two years to go, though depending on how life moves, and how many times I have to read the same paragraph before it actually sinks in, who knows. I may finish sooner.

I chose an online program because, let’s be honest, I’m a mom first. I needed to be able to close the laptop when life needed me without falling behind. Though “going at my own pace” mostly just looks like a lot of stops and starts and the occasional week where I forget I’m even in school. It’s been a year of some really cool discoveries, a few frustrations, and some lessons I definitely didn’t see coming.

When the Textbook Starts to Feel Personal

A big part of what pulled me toward holistic nutrition was wanting to understand perimenopause, specifically my own. When I got to the hormone module, I wasn’t reading theory anymore. I was reading my own life, just with more scientific words attached to it.

Having language for what my body was doing, and learning there were actual ways to support it, was a relief. It stopped feeling like “what on earth is happening to me?” and started feeling more like “oh… okay, that makes sense.” That shift alone made a big difference.

The Assignment That Made Me Cry (In A Good Way)

The most unexpectedly powerful moment of the year had nothing to do with charts or supplement protocols. It came from my Mind, Body, and Spirit module.

I wrote about my experience with Trigeminal Neuralgia, a nerve condition that causes really intense facial pain, and my instructor’s feedback honestly brought me to tears. She connected it to the work of teachers like Louise Hay, around how facial nerve pain can sometimes be linked, in a mind-body framework, to emotions that haven’t had space to come out. Things like anger, or feeling hurt or rejected but holding it in quietly. It gave me a different lens to sit with, not as a definitive answer, but as another way of understanding what the body might be holding.

So much of my life I stayed quiet to keep the peace, putting everyone else’s comfort ahead of my own feelings. Seeing it reflected back to me was one of those uncomfortable “yeah… that’s exactly it” moments. It also reminded me why I want to do this work. To help people make those same connections, and to show them their bodies aren’t broken. They’re just trying to communicate.

Biochemistry and Perimenopausal Brain Fog

While my heart and soul were having these revelations, my brain was dealing with a very different kind of challenge. Science was never really my strong suit to begin with. Add perimenopause into the mix and studying biochemistry becomes a genuinely special kind of challenge. I’ll read a full page, get to the bottom, and realize my brain absorbed absolutely nothing. Like it just… slid right off. So I’ll read it again. And again. Sometimes four or five times before anything actually sticks.

When I opened my textbook to a full-page spread of the Periodic Table, I actually cringed out loud. High school chemistry flashback, no thank you. And it’s not just the studying. I’m also trying to remember the kids’ practice schedules, where I put my keys, whether I’ve eaten lunch, and at some point, who I am as a person. Some days it’s a lot.

When Words Just…Vanished

For a long time, I was really set on handling things naturally. That felt most aligned with where I was headed, especially while studying holistic nutrition. But in 2024, my nerve pain reached a point where it was the worst ever. So, I made the decision to start medication, something I’ve always avoided.

Part of that decision came from just being in a different place in life. My kids were older, and I knew that if I needed to rest, things would still be okay. That gave me a little space to actually try something new. And if I’m being honest, that first week was a lot. I didn’t feel like myself at all. It wasn’t just tired… I felt completely out of it. It wasn’t an easy decision, but it was the decision I needed in that moment.

My doctor prescribed a very mild medication to start with. The first week, it completely knocked me out. And honestly, it wasn’t even her fault. She had prescribed a very low starting dose, but somewhere along the way there was a mix-up at the pharmacy. The pharmacist misread the fax and I ended up on about 3x the dose. So I was taking way more than intended, and definitely feeling it. I was not impressed, to say the least. But that’s a whole other story.

It wasn’t until my kids said something that I realised the medication was changing things in a way I couldn’t really see myself. Most days I’d reach for words and just… come up empty.

​Me: “Can someone pass me the… you know… the cold-box-thing with the milk?”

Kids: “The refrigerator, Mom.  It’s called a refrigerator.”

I eventually had to stop. It took about three months off to rest, taper, and just get myself back together. It wasn’t the plan, but it was what my body needed and I’m learning to be okay with that.

So here I am, one year in. Still re-reading the same pages sometimes, still figuring it out. But what I know for sure is that healing isn’t just about the right supplement or the perfect plan. A lot of it is just being honest with yourself and giving your body permission to rest.

Simply Salt & Soul

The Salt (The Science): Here’s my biggest takeaway from year one, the nervous system isn’t just about stress signals. It’s basically keeping score of everything you’ve been carrying. When you’re running on empty and stuck in fight-or-flight, your body is too busy surviving to do any actual healing. More supplements and strategies aren’t always the answer. Sometimes it’s just about making your body feel safe enough to finally exhale.

The Soul (The Wellness): Practice “Unmasking.”  Something that’s been helping me lately, when I notice tension or discomfort somewhere in my body, I just stop and ask myself honestly: is there something I’m not saying? Sometimes just naming it is enough. Write it down, say it out loud, whatever works. Just get it out of your body and somewhere else.

Because I’ve learned the hard way that when you keep swallowing things down, your body finds its own way to bring it up. We’ve all heard “you can’t pour from an empty cup.” I’ve said it myself a hundred times. I’m just finally starting to actually mean it.