Aug 125 min read

How My Journey with Fibroids Led Me to Build Sanza Cycle

At 24, I heard, “You have fibroids, but it’s not a big deal.”

At 26, in an emergency room, I was told, “We can’t see your right ovary, but it’s not a big deal.”

At 27, another doctor casually mentioned, “You have fibroids, but yeah, you can get pregnant.”

And then, at 30, I was faced with the heartbreaking reality: “Oh yeah, the embryo will not survive because there is a big fibroid inside your ovary.”

A consistent dismissal of my concerns, my pain, and my health has marked my journey with fibroids. This is where my journey to building Sanza truly began

—because how are you going to tell me what is or isn’t a big deal when you ignore my heavy bleeding and my pain, brushing it off as “normal”?

I was young and healthy, and apart from the fibroids, I didn’t have any other health issues.

So, like many women, I trusted the medical professionals and ignored my body.

I wasn’t too devastated when I couldn’t carry that embryo to term because it wasn’t planned. But what if it had been?

What if I was actively trying to get pregnant?

That was the first time I was confronted with the possibility of infertility. I wasn’t infertile—I just had fibroids, which can be managed, especially if they’re small. So why didn’t the first doctor who saw my fibroid suggest surgery or a lifestyle change? Why was I dismissed?

After years of being dismissed, I decided to take matters into my own hands. This is the story of so many women who’ve had to become their own health advocates. My journey started with a simple book, Healing Fibroids. This book opened my eyes to so much more than just treatment options.

I learned that fibroids are often caused by stress—stress that disrupts your hormones, especially estrogen. Fibroids feed on estrogen, so when you have a surplus of it, your fibroids just grow.

The book also taught me that you can shrink your fibroids with lifestyle changes, focusing on nutrition, movement, and stress management. And honestly, I was pissed. Not one doctor had ever asked me what I was eating, how I was moving, or even suggested that my lifestyle could be impacting my fibroids.

This realization made me feel betrayed by a medical system that should have been guiding me. It was infuriating to discover that so much of my health was within my control, yet no one had told me. And this isn’t just my story—it’s a reality that many women, especially Black women, face. The racial aspect of it is undeniable. Black women are often misdiagnosed or not taken seriously; we die in childbirth at disproportionately higher rates than white women. The system fails us repeatedly.

Thankfully, I was living in Belgium and not in the U.S., where the approach to fibroids is often more invasive. I found a doctor who offered a non-invasive procedure called uterine fibroid embolization. This procedure involved blocking the blood supply (and therefore the estrogen) to the largest fibroid, causing it to shrink. The surgery was simple and effective—the fibroid shrank and, as far as I know, is probably gone now.

But that wasn’t the end of it. I knew I had a smaller fibroid, and I decided to tackle it myself by following the advice from the Healing Fibroids book. I changed my lifestyle—I focused on reducing stress, improving my diet, and making sure I was taking care of my overall well-being.

A few months later, I went to my gynecologist for a check-up. She looked at my ovaries and said, “There’s no fibroid.” I was shocked and asked, “There was one, right?” She just said, “No, there’s no fibroid.” I couldn’t believe it—was it the lifestyle changes that made it disappear? When I mentioned this to her, she brushed it off, dismissing the idea that my actions could have had such an impact.

This was a pivotal moment for me. I’ve always been someone who trusts science and respects medical professionals. I’m pro-vaccine, pro-medical intervention when necessary, but this experience shook me. How could something so real and impactful in my life be dismissed so easily? I started to doubt the medical system’s intentions—if they weren’t willing to acknowledge the role lifestyle changes played in my health, what else were they overlooking?

This experience made me realize that as women, especially Black women, we often have to take matters into our own hands. We can’t always trust the system to look out for us—we have to be our own advocates, our own health experts. This realization was a significant part of what led me to create Sanza Cycle.

As I dug deeper, I learned some staggering facts:

• Half a million hysterectomies are performed each year in the U.S., with fibroids being the leading cause of this life-altering operation.

• Approximately 50% of African-American women and 30% of white women will experience troublesome symptoms from fibroids. These non-malignant growths can cause endless pain, bleeding, and frustration.

• By menopause, about 40% of American women will have a benign fibroid tumor in their uterus.

The more I learned, the more I realized how women’s health, particularly issues like fibroids, is often mishandled. The focus tends to be on invasive procedures, with little attention to less drastic measures or the overall well-being of the woman.

This entire experience—my frustration, my research, and my eventual empowerment—led me to create Sanza Cycle. I realized that as women, especially as Black women, we can’t always trust the system to have our best interests at heart. We have to take matters into our own hands.

Sanza is about more than just managing symptoms—it’s about empowering women to understand their bodies, advocate for themselves, and take control of their health. My experience with fibroids was the catalyst, but the mission of Sanza extends far beyond that. It’s about creating tools and a community where women are supported, heard, and empowered.

My journey with fibroids was filled with frustration, pain, and a sense of being dismissed. But it also led me to take control of my health and ultimately, to create something that could help other women do the same. Sanza Cycle is my way of turning a personal struggle into a movement for change—because no one should have to go through what I did without support, understanding, and options.