For years, I have had a hunch, a grueling suspicion, that my insides were crawling with endometriosis. After years of suffering through pain that seemed exponentially worse than the pain of my friend's, and after developing more symptoms, things that just didn't seem right, I said something to my OBGYN in hopes of answers. Instead, my concerns were brushed under the rug, and I was left to suffer yet another year in silence. Finally, in August 2016, I saw a different doctor and expressed my concerns, and I talked about how my symptoms were affecting my life. My concerns were not pushed aside, and my doctor and I took the first step in the direction of diagnosis.

After weeks of waiting, the doctor finally spoke the words, "I strongly believe you have endometriosis," and I began my journey down the road to treatment. It hasn't been long since my "diagnosis" (I use the quotes because technically speaking, endometriosis can only be diagnosed through laparoscopic surgery) and the emotional roller coaster has already begun. I felt relieved, finally, I was going to be getting help. I felt angry, why me? I felt sad, what will this mean for any future relationship I try to have? As a newly single, 22-year-old adult, that weighed on me. Heavily.

Endometriosis is not easy, and I have been working on coming to terms with what this illness will mean for my life. It's only been a week, and I know that this battle within myself to be okay will last for many years. But for now, I am taking things one day at a time, one moment at a time, and trying to be okay.