The Mindfulsoul Studio

do always feel better for going away. Whether it’s a few days or a week, the change of environment, being away from the everyday routine, chores, responsibilities, and having a slower pace of life genuinely helps me so much. But if you live with endometriosis, you’ll probably understand that holidays can also come with an extra layer of thought, especially when long-haul travel is involved. None of these thoughts stop me from booking the trip or enjoying myself though. Over the years, I’ve learnt so much about my body, my endometriosis, what works for me, what doesn’t, and what I need to pack to help myself feel my best while I’m away. We’re heading to France in a couple of weeks, so I’ll be sharing a packing reel that might help anyone else navigating holidays this summer. These thoughts are just part of living in a body that can feel a little unpredictable at times. I’d love to know, what would you add to the list? 💛

Nothing about this season is perfect, and having to go back to managing my endometriosis full time again has been hard at times. But I’ve been noticing how many small things are quietly helping me too. Sleepy cuddles, slowly learning to run after years of stopping, red light sauna sessions that give me space to just be, deeper one-on-one time with girlfriends, family time and little trips to look forward to. It’s not one big transformation, just lots of small things adding up that are making this season feel a little lighter. 🤍

My two little miracles 💛 Last week I took a little hiatus from Instagram for two reasons. Firstly, I somehow managed to lose my phone on the way to the airport and it spent 6 nights in Gatwick whilst we were on our trip to Scotland. Secondly, I was in absolute agony with my back as you guys know. What I originally thought was endometriosis pain turned out to be a severe muscle spasm. But it ended up being the best thing ever.

It felt like the universe was giving me a gentle nudge to slow down and take a time out. I have such a love-hate relationship with Instagram. On one hand, I genuinely love this little corner of the internet. The support, the conversations, and the way we help each other through life’s highs and lows is incredibly special.

But on the other hand, sometimes I just want to switch off from the world completely, and that’s exactly what I did in Scotland. No endless scrolling. No pressure to create. Just family, fresh air and slower days and soaking up every moment with these two pickles!

The magic is in the ordinary ❤️

Spirits have been lifted ❤️

Emptying the archives 💛

This question has come up so much recently that I decided to turn it into a series 🤍

Trying to conceive with endometriosis can feel incredibly overwhelming, isolating, and emotionally exhausting at times, so I wanted to share some of the things that genuinely helped me throughout my own journey.

I’m not a doctor, and none of this is medical advice. This comes purely from lived experience, years of navigating infertility, trying different approaches, learning more about my body, and finding small things that helped me feel more supported physically and emotionally along the way.

PART 1.

One of the biggest things for me was getting a full sexual health screening. After a year of trying, I discovered I had ureaplasma despite having absolutely no symptoms. For me personally, identifying and treating this felt like an important step in supporting my vaginal microbiome and overall reproductive health.

I also started making small lifestyle changes that felt supportive rather than overwhelming, things like reducing sugar intake, wearing breathable underwear, avoiding heavily fragranced products, prioritising gut health, and reducing stress where possible. Small changes really can add up over time.

And when it comes to holistic practices, there is no “perfect” formula. Pilates, breath work, meditation, acupuncture, lymphatic drainage, and gentle movement all helped me feel more connected to my body in different ways, but the most important thing is finding what works for YOU.

Please remember: your story isn’t over yet 🤍

And if you’re navigating TTC with endometriosis, infertility, or just feeling alone in it all, I’m always here to chat.

i feel really lucky that i have friends and family around me who support me through all of this. there have been so many different phases of this condition over the years, from trying to understand what was happening to my body, to surgery, infertility, pregnancy, postpartum, and now navigating endometriosis while being a mum to two young children. i think becoming a mother adds a whole new layer to living with chronic illness because even on the hard days, you still have two little people depending on you. there’s a different kind of guilt that comes with it all now too, cancelling plans, not showing up how you want to, feeling unreliable, trying to balance your health while still being everything everyone needs from you. postpartum has brought a lot of changes to my body and with that, a lot of emotions navigating endometriosis again in a completely different phase of life. but through all of it, i’ve realised just how important it is to have people around you who understand, people who don’t give up on you when you go quiet and who love you through every version of yourself. and more than anything, i feel really lucky for this community. whether we’ve spoken online, met in person, shared messages at 2am, or silently related to each other through a screen, there’s something so comforting about being understood by women who truly get it because endometriosis can feel incredibly isolating, exhausting, and consuming. sometimes you don’t need advice, you just need someone to say “i understand.” sending so much love to anyone navigating chronic illness right now 🤍 as always, i’m always here if you need someone to talk to 🥹

🎁 🎉 🧡💖👯‍♀️

I get asked this all the time, women reaching out because they think they might have endometriosis, friends who are curious, and others who just want to understand what an endometriosis flare actually feels like.

The truth is, it’s different for everyone. And honestly, there aren’t enough slides (or words) to fully capture everything I go through during a flare, but this gives a glimpse into what it’s usually like for me.

What’s been really hard to wrap my head around is that it’s recently been described as behaving like a cancer—a cancer—and yet so many of us are still dismissed. We’re gaslit, told to just “take the pill” as a quick fix, or pushed toward major surgeries like hysterectomies without proper assessment, support, or care.

Sending so much love to all my endo warrior, and especially the mamas who are mothering through pain 🤍