I had been experiencing a slew of symptoms for months, maybe closer to a year, without knowing. (That alone is enough fodder for its own tragic tale of the deep shame and regret hindsight so often bores, but more on that later). I was doing everything “right”: eating well, getting my steps in, tracking my macros, eating my protein, working out 5x a week, getting sunshine and fresh air, yet still not able to sleep. Still not able to shake this feeling that something was off. Feeling gaslit by a body that wouldn’t match all the effort it was given. Damning it for being uncooperative. Constantly trying to do more, to “figure it out”, work harder, adjust the puzzle pieces one more time. An endless loop of confusion, self-blame, guilt, half-hearted repair, rinse, repeat.

I’d been working a new job, bartending for a typical 8hr shift on my feet. Dealing with all the stress of a service job and eventually blaming that for how I felt. Knowing that this is a day job was simply a means to an end - something to hold me over while I build my company; it’s not my purpose, it’s not my career, it’s causing so much discomfort in my body. The hours, the late nights, the adrenaline, the physicality, the energetics of dealing with people non-stop. It had to be that. I wasn’t cut out to be doing something so ‘out of alignment’. So… I guess I’ll quit?

The alarm bells started going off in my body about three weeks ago. I thought I had gotten food poisoning from a late-night, post-shift meal. The food sat like a brick in my stomach all night; I could barely sleep. I got sick the next morning, food still undigested, which was odd. But it wasn’t the classic 24 hours of constant bathroom trips. It was: feel odd after eating, get sick once, feel nauseous all day, can’t eat or hold anything down, then sleep for 16 hours… for the next three days. I woke up that third day feeling refreshed. Cool, I just needed sleep. This is just stress and compounded sleep deprivation. I just needed sleep.

I felt better that day, but I still felt puffy, weird in the face. Even though I had lost some weight bartending (all those hours on your feet really do add up), my face wasn’t matching the weight loss. I was swollen and round and looked inflated. I was considering plastic surgery seriously for the first time in my life; It must be age. I guess this is just how my face changes with time and gravity…? Maybe a little filler here and a little filler there will fix it. Thoughts I never thought I’d have.

I had paid for countless lymphatic drainage massages, buccal treatments (where the masseuse goes into your mouth with latex gloves and goes hard on your jaw muscles from the inside), cranial sacral release, chiropractic treatments. I did my gua sha, my red light, my nufuce. Nothing worked. It had to be age. And maybe I really do need that night guard after all; it’s gotta be the grinding. That’s it, gotta be.

I had one day of reprieve and then… new symptoms. I would go hours without even considering food and then BAM, sudden debilitating hunger that felt like the kind of nausea you can only achieve as a college freshman learning how to drink. That deep, penetrative acidity that feels like it’s tearing you apart from the inside out. Like if you don’t eat something immediately, your stomach will eat itself. And that continued for a few days. I was even woken up from sleep by the incessant gnawing in my gut. I remember asking a friend what it felt like to be hypoglycemic because I thought that had to be what was going on. People can just suddenly develop that, right? That’s probably what’s happening. And then… food wouldn’t even stay down. I could barely stay awake.

I’ve never been someone who can sleep in any place or weird position. I can definitely get comfy on a plane if I curl up against the window, but I’m not the girl who’s falling asleep sitting up in a chair or in the car. So when I went to a doctor’s appointment for a checkup (a separate specialist, but the irony is not lost on me) and I immediately puked the small bowl of Cheerios I tried to dowse my acidic stomach with as soon as I got there and passed clean out sitting upright in a very hard and upright chair, I was starting to realize that something was seriously wrong. After the checkup, which was normal on his end (another mind fuck even though we weren’t looking at kidney function), I went home and fell back asleep for another 10 hours and woke up in the early evening disoriented.

After another long day of what seemed un-optional sleep, I decided I was extremely dehydrated. I decided to get a delivery home IV treatment. That had to be it; I wasn’t drinking enough. This was extreme dehydration. I got the IV, and I thought it helped. I could still barely keep my eyes open, so when the nurse left at 9 pm, I went straight to bed. I woke up the next morning and could barely open my eyes. My face felt like it weighed a million pounds and was somehow being squeezed into a tiny box. I got up, went into my bathroom, and looked up to a face I didn’t know. It looked like I had gained 40 lbs overnight. My face was so large, so swollen, it barely looked like me. The white cast across my lips was strange given that I should have been less dry, not more.

I went to text my cousin and boyfriend to complain about my inflated face, and my phone wouldn’t open. Each time I swiped up on the screen, I got the notification “face not recognized” and was asked for my numeric password instead. My fucking PHONE didn’t recognize me!

The rest of the day is a blur. I attempted a 20-minute Pilates class at home to get my body moving - I hadn’t been consistent in my workouts recently. It felt like I was squatting and pulsing through molasses. I could hardly catch my breath. How had I gotten this out of shape? I had only been a little inconsistent for about a month. So then I went for a walk. My lymphatic system is clearly fucked, I need to drain this fluid.

After combing the internet for same-day lymph treatments, I decided walking was a good place to start. I was heading downhill to flat ground, and my legs… my calves felt like they were soaking-wet towels being wrung out inside my skin, every step more painful than the last. And my breath… I was gasping for air after half a block, each inhale like an icicle in the chest. I had to sit down after only four minutes down the road.

I knew something was wrong… I wondered if my anemia could have come back so aggressively so fast? It was the only thing I could link it to, but the cramping in my legs was different this time. And I literally just saw my hematologist yesterday and everything was fine! Which was so confusing because clearly, I was not fine. I got myself up and headed up the hill back home. This time, the pain was more familiar: aching tightness and pressure in my quads as I forced myself uphill, grasping for breath.

My memory cuts short here, but I know I started to feel that combination of hunger and nausea and wanted to eat. I had the weirdest and strongest craving for cheddar ritz bits. I don’t typically eat cheese or gluten, or processed junk for that matter, but it’s all I could think about. I got my hands on the ritz bits and some jello (take it from me: if you’re ever craving jello and rare 90s snacks, you are likely very ill).

I ate my snacks until I couldn’t. Brick in the stomach. Pain. Nausea. Vomiting. My boyfriend had come over to keep me company. I told him if it didn’t get better by the morning, I’d go to the ER. He stayed with me as we watched TV, me curled up in a ball on the couch writhing in pain. He put all my symptoms and preexisting conditions into his chatgpt and asked if we should go to the hospital. The response wasn’t just a ‘yes’, it was, immediately. I was hesitant to take the advice of a robot, not because I don’t use it myself, but because it was nearly midnight, I knew we’d be waiting for hours to get seen, and I was exhausted. I didn’t wanna go. I just wanted to sleep in my own bed. I just wanted to feel better. Maybe if I just get some good sleep, it’ll all go away. It’s just stress, right? I just need sleep. I just need good sleep. If I sleep, it will all be over.

But when I got up to use the restroom, I could barely stand. I looked at my boyfriend and saw the look of urgency on his face. He got up to help me walk to the bathroom, and I knew it was time. I couldn’t walk on my own. Something was seriously wrong, and I was not okay. I knew I needed to stop telling myself it was less than it was. Still, I kept praying all I needed was some more fluid. But the look on my partner’s face told me that wasn’t it.

I’m incredibly grateful to have reached a place where I feel secure and confident in who I am as a person - I frikkin love myself! After learning what had been going on with my body for so long and regaining my confidence through dialyzed fluid removal, I’m feeling pretty unstoppable. Near-death experiences also have a way of highlighting what matters and what really doesn’t. That being said, dating in LA is ROUGH right now. I think dating in general is rough right now; everyone is online, scrambling to make enough money to survive in this inflated world, while also desperately wanting in-person connection and not quite sure how to get it.

I was a little depressed leading up to the 4th of July this year… my dad’s side of the family throws this incredible three-day party in upstate New York, and it’s one of, if not my favorite, events of the year. Two of my best friends came a couple of years ago and loved it so much that they actually ended up moving there! They’ve now been living with my cousin in this tiny 200-person town in the middle of rural New York, up in the thick, vibrant woods of the Catskills. They are there again this year, alongside my big, incredible family, which has gathered like this for 30-plus years.

Due to my medical needs and insurance nonsense, I can’t leave the state of California. And once I’m on the transplant list (yes, I need a transplant… a double transplant actually, but I’ll get into that another time), I won’t be able to be more than 2 hours from home cuz god knows when the person whose life is meant to end for mine to continue will… end. But that’s for another day. All this to say, I was really sad to miss our family reunion. It’s funny - I am a born and raised Los Angeleno and have never celebrated the 4th in LA! I had no clue what even happened here! I honestly just wanted to stay home and be sad. BUT, instead of feeling sorry for myself, I decided to go grill with my mom’s side of the family and try to enjoy the day.

While we were making food, my good friend invited me to a house party on the west side that night, and I thought, screw it! Life is short… I had dialysis today (which always makes me feel better), I slept well last night, I look cute - let’s roll! So, off to a house party I went! When’s the last time I’d been out on a Saturday night?!? Let alone a house party?! I LOVE a house party! Who doesn’t??

I invited other west side friends to join us, and we all had a blast! It was a penthouse apartment in the marina - nice, cozy, and toasty. They set up the DJ in the living room, and the music was great. We all DANCED. A little later in the evening, a group of friends came in, and one of them was a decently handsome, tall, straight guy. I couldn’t tell at first if one of the women he was with was his girlfriend, but once I caught her flirting with my friend, I knew I was in the clear to flirt with him. We spoke a little, but there was no action - no further inquiry on his part. He was definitely single, and we would run into each other across the apartment, and after the third time of nothing, NADA, I was like - okay, fuck it. Forget it. I’m just gonna dance w my friends!

In the past, this interaction would have made me SPIRAL. I would have let this random dude’s rejection of me send me into a loop of self-worthlessness (again, barf). But one of my all-time favorite mantras is: rejection is god’s protection. TRUST that rejection is just life redirecting you to what’s really meant for you. Another good one: what’s meant for me can’t miss me, and what misses me was never meant for me.

So, I kept on dancing, realizing I didn’t even really find him that attractive; he was just… the best of what was there? Good enough because he was available? I’m not interested in settling for “just good enough” or perceived convenience. Sometimes you have to let go of something that seems like the easier option simply because it’s in front of you. The work is: trusting that by letting go of what you know isn’t EXACTLY what you want, even and ESPECIALLY when it’s inconvenient, you make room for what you truly desire.

And then… in walks THE. MOST. GORGEOUS. MAN. I’m not kidding. This dude had my jaw slack on the floor like a fuckin cartoon. He was this 6-foot-4 Adonis: tan, ripped but not in a gross way, shoulder-length curly brown hair with sunstreaks running through it tied back with a backward baseball cap on, a jawline that could slice a watermelon, and a smile that made me laugh out loud. And I said to myself, grinning like an idiot, “Now, THAT is a hot guy.”

He and his friend walked straight out to the balcony, so… so did I. I came out right behind him, kind of looking past him, and he turned around and asked, “Oh, are you looking for someone?” And I said, “No, it’s just really hot in there.” “You were supposed to say ‘You’.” “Oh! Yes! You! I was looking for you!” I said, sort of flustered. “There ya go - here I am,” he said, putting his arm around me. “Here you are! I’ve been looking for you everywhere! We did it.” “We did it, look at us…” and he gestured out to the skyline of scattered illegal fireworks, “Out here on this beautiful night.” Then, he looked down at me from way up from his Zeus-like stature and said, “Damn, you’re hot. What are you doing here, other than being hot?”

And that, my friends, is why YOU DON’T SETTLE.

It’s why we wait - for the divine timing of life. Why trusting in the unknown is THE BEST. It’s scary for a reason! But it’s meant to be exhilarating! Life is meant to be full of wonderful surprises, and we rob ourselves of the opportunity to experience those surprises when we sell ourselves short. I realized that this is the season I’m entering into: being seen, being chosen, being claimed. God, it was so hot! To interact with a man who instantly knew what he wanted and wanted to take it. But he wasn’t grossly aggressive; it was all totally mutual. We talked about our lives and what we did, and, yes, he was a little cocky, but he was a sweetheart. He loved that I’m a writer and told me my Substack would blow up. We talked about manifestation, his kid, his career. And he was a flirt, for sure, but a gentleman.

And I thought, why would you expect anything less? YES, Izzy! Of COURSE you should be with sweet, hot men. THAT’S what you’re calling in. It’s what you deserve. So don’t be surprised when you get it!! Accept it with joy and gratitude!!

We stood on the balcony for a bit, getting to know each other as people set off fireworks in the street right below us. They would explode within feet of our faces on the balcony. So here I am, wrapped in the arms of this gorgeous man with literal fireworks between us.

I gotta say, my family reunion is GREAT butttttttt - I am related to basically everyone there. Very little chance of having a spontaneous romance amongst the pyrotechnics! For having to miss out on the party this year, this certainly made up for it.

We went back inside and parted ways for a bit for him to make a drink and find his friend and for me to find my friends and gossip about my hot party crush. We eventually walked back over to him, and he was now standing with his friend and the guy I originally thought was cute. Something else I noticed about this man was that his confidence was not total arrogance, and it came from a place of real self-assurance. He didn’t leave me and start scouring the party for other women to hit on; he seemed content on choosing me. I walked back over to them, and without saying anything to each other, he reached around me and pulled me into his body while continuing his conversation with the two other men.

In an instant, I saw it: how alpha/beta energy works in real time. The other guy saw this and immediately shifted his energy toward me. He was suddenly checking me out, looking between my new man and me, and I could see the wheels turning in his head about his choice to not engage with me. Now that this man who was clearly his alpha was interested, he was interested too. And that is the difference between decisive and indecisive men; decisive men take what they want, and indecisive men wait for a better man to tell them what to want.

I know I went on about having evolved from external validation, but… I gotta say, that felt fucking AWESOME. Not because I felt spiteful to this perfect stranger, but because I was proud of myself that his previous rejection of me didn’t faze me the way I know it would have in the past. Because this man’s arm around me wasn’t about the man himself, but what he represented: the evolution of self-worth. My own becoming. My ability to receive the gifts Life wants to give me.

Without parting from the conversation, Zeus looked down at me, smiled, then squeezed my butt with the hand that was around my shoulder, grabbed my face with his other hand, and kissed me. We exchanged some spicy banter, and despite how much fun we could have had, I told him I was exhausted after having dialysis earlier and needed to get to bed. He kindly agreed and told me I’d need to be fully rested for our… hang.

He smacked me on the ass and said, “Okay, sexy, get out of here. I’ll call you tomorrow.” And I said, “Okay, but you need to make out with me one more time before I go.” He kindly obliged and told me to get out of the crowd and move to the open wall in the hallway. He pressed me against the wall and kissed me. “Give me that leg,” he demanded, and grabbed my thigh, wrapping it around his hip and pushing me tighter against the wall as he dove in to kiss me. I laughed hysterically as we made out against this wall during a popping party, feeling like I was 17 at a high school rager.

It was simply the best.

I left feeling high and giddy. The best I’ve felt in a very long time, even before all this medical stuff. When was the last time I made out with someone at a house party?!?! A million years, to be exact. And, how nice, to leave it at a kiss? It didn’t need to be anything more than that. It was exactly what I needed. So, no, I didn’t go home with him cuz that’s not what it was about. Sometimes a girl just needs a smooch!

It got me thinking about all the other places I was letting the kind-of-whatever guy take up precious energetic real estate in my life. And not just men, but other dreams, other visions I have for my future. I’ve long dreamed of a home in the Catskills, to buy a piece of land and develop a small farm, live slowly in nature and take the train down to the city when I want action and culture. And this is in no way knocking that dream as not good enough! I love that vision and hold it dearly.

But I looked at some of the people I was matching with on Raya; the sexy, surfing National Geographic writer in Portugal, the sustainability entrepreneur in Amsterdam, the cinematographer in Paris, the director in Mexico City, the spiritual teacher and cafe owner in Bali - and I thought to myself: is New York really it? Is that the dream? Or is there maybe a bigger dream? Do I actually need to widen my Aquarian scope back out to the whole world?

I’ve been feeling more and more that this experience with my body and my health, that this impending major surgery I will eventually go through, is a huge karmic upleveling. A system upgrade. I will quite literally not be the same person afterward; I will be receiving new DNA! There’s no question that this is a portal I am meant to walk through, but now I see that perhaps on the other side of it, a new life I couldn’t previously imagine awaits.

So now I am letting myself be open to what may come. To the promise of possibility - that anything can happen when we choose to believe it. I invite you to take stock of your dreams; are you planning rigidly or dreaming loosely? Are you looking only at what’s in front of you, or do you let yourself go beyond what’s comfortable? Do you allow yourself to own your worth by claiming what you truly desire? And can you stretch yourself a little further, and trust that Life will meet you there?

Then, being one of the first girls in elementary school, a close second behind the one girl who had full breasts at 8 years old, to start developing and having my dad take me shopping to get my first bra (who so sweetly set up an appointment with one of the female managers at Nordstrom to help shop with me). But to this day, I still have no idea why he took me and not my mom.

To my very early experience with weird sensations and tingles I enjoyed feeling when I’d see a cute boy on TV… we’re talkin - Nick Carter, JT, the blonde kid from Brink, David Duchovny in the X-Files whose name I thought was Moler until I was about 17, teenage Simba - yes, I said it!! (They totally made cartoons hot in the ‘90s, right?? Or do I just need way more therapy?) Leo DiCaprio… oh, young Leo. Cut to: me staying home from school sick at 7 years old and knowing that the epic scene in Titanic that made my body feel funny was at the very end of the first tape of the film. So, when my mom would leave to run her errands, I’d rush to get the tape and place it in the VHS player, fast-forward alllll the way to the end, and play it right when I got to see Kate Winslet’s hand slam against the car door and run down the window through all that glorious steam.

Then, as I got older, my awareness shifted from pure observation to judgment. Somewhere along the road through puberty, I learned what I had was possibly flawed or not enough.

Growing up in Los Angeles in the 90s & 2000s was wild. I went to middle & high school in a very affluent neighborhood, and with that came an exposure to values typically (and sadly) reserved for adults: what designer shit you own, how thin you are, what diet you’re on, how skinny you can be (how sick you can look). This was the heroin chic era when thinness was glorified, and eating disorders were basically a necessitated accessory like a Marc Jacobs handbag or Free City anything. And like most girls my age, I, too, struggled with various forms of disordered eating throughout my adolescence. I am but a millennial girl in a millennial world.

My mom, a beautiful young actress, would make these gorgeous, elaborate, home-cooked meals for me, my siblings, and all the stragglers she took in. She would sit at the head of the table with a dessert bowl of iceberg lettuce, refusing to eat any of the food she had just worked so hard to make. She would tell me all the time how beautiful I was. When I needed her help with homework, she’d raise the glass her evening cocktail was in and say, “You’re perfect, darling! You don’t need my help. You’re soooo beautiful!”

But maybe for her, the messaging had been worse: a young Gen-Xer from Texas who had moved to LA in the 80s to become an actor. Caught between the 50s diet culture of her upbringing and the 1990s, when thin-worshiping, fat jokes, homophobic slights, and the mocking of bulimia were as ubiquitous in popular culture as Jennifer Aniston’s hairdos on Friends.

I had been programmed at a young age to value all the wrong things about my body. And, in order for it to gain that value, I had learned to ignore it - to disrespect it. But at the same time, I was born with a genetic kidney disease that presented as chronic kidney stones. So from time to time, I would have one that required emergent medical intervention, and goddddammmmn are they painful! Talk about not being able to ignore your body!! I am lucky though… most people with this disease don’t live very long. Most die as children… But I was blessed to live a fairly normal day-to-day life, rich with adventure, up through my 30s.

I am lucky.

As I got older and began working on myself in therapy and deepening my connection to spirituality, I finally developed a loving relationship to my body. I learned how to respect and honor it. That said, I am a small person… at 5’4”, I’ve always been a slight-framed woman who’s been athletic most of her life. People will sometimes roll their eyes when I say I feel a noticeable difference with 5 extra pounds on me, not realizing that those 5 lbs look way different on someone my height than on someone just a few inches taller.

This path from self-denial to self-acceptance helped me understand and recognize my body deeply. So when I had gained a fair amount of weight in late 2024 and couldn’t lose it no matter what I tried, I was confused… and annoyed.

I was doing all the things: strength training 3x a week, Pilates at home 2-3x a week, walking 10,000 steps a day - I even added a weighted vest! And… I knew something was wrong. Something was off. I had done WAY less and felt WAY better - so something wasn’t adding up.

I noticed myself falling back into obsessiveness - counting calories for the first time ever, weighing my food, tracking every step. So after months of doing what felt like everything and more, I finally eased back and let it be. I still worked out, walked, and ate well. But it came to a point where I knew I would fall into that shadow version of myself that felt like she wasn’t enough based on my appearance. And I didn’t want that. I just wanted to feel better… to feel like the equation of what I was doing equaled what I was getting. I finally went to get an InBody scan at my old gym to see if I could get some clarity. These machines detect your body composition - your fat %, your lean muscle mass, and also… your water.

I was heavier than I’d ever been, but I had expected that since muscle weighs more than fat and I’d been weightlifting consistently for 3 years at that point. But the results only confused me more!! I was technically in the best shape of my life! I had the most muscle I’d ever had, the lowest amount of body fat, but I didn’t look the leanest - AT ALL. The other thing the scan showed was that I had a TON of water. I honestly feel like such an idiot that that didn’t ring any alarm bells, but… it didn’t. My whole life, anything associated with my kidneys being in trouble was pain. Intense, sharp, debilitating pain on either flank.

So… I didn’t catch it. I thought it was stagnant lymph, so I went hard on the lymphatic drainage massages and chugged tons of water. But what was really going on was that my kidneys had already started to shut down, so they weren’t clearing fluid properly, which means they were also storing toxins.

This won’t be where I share the whole story of how I found out my kidneys were failing. But what I do want to share is how something as serious as organ failure can be present for far longer than you realize. That the acute symptoms of pain and distress are the final warning signs, not the first. How, despite feeling so confused - so betrayed by my own body - it was only ever trying to communicate with me. That I wasn’t crazy and my physiology wasn’t gaslighting me - it was warning me.

After being hospitalized for a couple of days, trying every other option but dialysis, my doctor finally told me that there was no other way. I had to have an emergency catheter placed. When you’re not at death’s door, they do this surgically under anesthesia. When you are… they do it in this makeshift way while you’re awake with only local anesthetic to help you, and the catheter gets attached to an artery in the side of your neck and sticks out of a mess of tape and tubes and gauze (it’s way less cute than it sounds).

My intro to dialysis was rough, to say the least. All sorts of gnarly symptoms and side effects. Splitting headaches that would make you reconsider if you’d ever really had a headache before, insanely high blood pressure to which every nurse basically told me to “just chill” even though stroke is a very real risk during dialysis, and a type of internal cold I’d never experienced before, a chill that ran through the body as if I had been hooked up to an iv of glacial water straight from the arctic circle.

It took a long time to figure out my baseline. When you’re on dialysis, there is something called your “dry weight,” which is basically your baseline weight - the place your body sits when it’s balanced. And to go back a step further - dialysis is the means by which one’s blood is cleaned, fluid is removed, and electrolytes are balanced via a large machine that hooks up to your body - in my case, the tubes that are now in my chest, not my neck. Since the kidneys no longer function, your body is unable to remove fluids efficiently. Every time you go in for a session, you take your weight, and it is measured against your dry weight. This is how they know how much fluid to remove with the machine - every session, they are working to get you down to your baseline, or your dry weight.

With that in mind, if your dry weight is off - if it’s too high - you’re simply just getting down to a better weight/level of fluid, but you’re technically still fluid overloaded, which feels terrible in the body. You feel swollen and sick all the time. This was my case for way longer than it should have been, but I eventually realized my dry weight was still too high.

Finding the correct dry weight isn’t an exact science, so what they’ll do is gradually pull more fluid each session, essentially until you show signs of going “too dry,” which means you’ve pulled too much. The signal for that is getting Charlie Horse cramps in your legs. And for anyone who’s never had the pleasure of experiencing one, it basically feels like someone is wringing out your calf muscle like a wet rag from the inside of your leg. Fun right??!?!

After months of being super overloaded, we finally began to inch closer to my real dry weight. And throughout this whole process, I began to feel and look like myself again. My skin cleared to near perfection, another low-grade symptom I didn’t attribute to my kidneys going offline. My skin wasn't bad before, but it wasn't responding the way it should have to all the care I was giving it. And now I was GLOWING. My hair was suddenly growing rapidly! And somehow got 2x fuller/thicker?? I went from having very thin-looking hair (my hair is fine, but it looked it) to having this glorious mane out of nowhere!

And to top it all off - from the time of hospitalization to now (6 months), 3 of which were stagnant at the same dry weight, so really over the course of 3 months we have removed 25lbs of fluid off of me. That’s right. I had 25 POUNDS OF FLUID AND TOXINS IN MY SYSTEM. Remember when I said 5lbs was noticeable on me???

This isn’t about being skinny or losing weight. This is about knowing your body well enough to know when something’s wrong. Our bodies are never fighting us; they are here to keep us alive. After a near lifelong game of tug of war between intuition and disregard, I’ve finally come home to her. The road is not done for me, medically speaking, but I now know how to advocate for myself in a meaningful and effective way. And, most vitally, I know I can trust myself.

If this could do anything, I hope it could help anyone feeling off in their body learn to listen to it, trust it, and seek clarity. Get on top of the symptoms while they’re low-grade, before the warning bells start ringing. And for anyone who is physically struggling or has struggled before: I see you. Your body isn’t against you, and you are not crazy. Get the help you need and advocate for yourself until you find the answers your body deserves.

All my love,

II.

If anything in this piece hit close to home regarding food or body image, the National Alliance for Eating Disorders helpline is available at: 1-866-662-1235.

I took myself for my post-dialysis matcha at Kettl, easily the best matcha in LA, and then next door to the vintage clothing shop to exchange something. I had a blast playing dress up and found some awesome gems - more than I bargained for, but that’s often how it goes with vintage!

I love these days, the ones you feel fully like yourself; you’re in your body, you feel hot and confident. I left the store feeling radiant and ready for summer. It’s been a rough six months, to say the least, and as someone who is a traveler at heart and forced to stay put in LA until further notice, this excitement about my immediate future felt…freeing.

I got into my car with my new treasures and longed to be seen. I was wearing my favorite Agolde denim cutoffs and a Monday Swimwear top that I swear has magical powers, and I just felt cute AF! One of those main character days, you know? I had my 90s playlist rocking in my car and begged the Universe for a crush. I just wanted to flirt with someone. I wanted someone to flirt with me. To hit on me.

The last person I dated was so passive, so allergic to action, that it made me sick with restlessness. But it also made me see so clearly what I want and what I have tolerance for. I used to bend at every invitation, every glance, every hesitant "maybe". I lived with that tepid initiative for so long that I now know exactly what it feels like and what its opposite is.

So today, in my rested, hot girl summer glory, I asked the Universe for a date. I got home, loved up on my puppy, made some food, and not long after, received a text from an old fling. He made a little small talk then said he was “maybe going to get some food later… maybe I can tempt you to join me.” I guess as I write it out myself, it doesn’t sound all that bad. And that’s the thing - it’s not “bad,” and he’s a lovely man, but I felt it in my body… a maybe. A low-commitment ask.

And I wondered, is this actually the date I asked for? Is this the date I want? And the answer was no. The date I want is someone truly, unequivocally asking me out. “Hey, I want to take you out. When are you free? I’m going to this place at this time, will you come with me?” Direct. Clear. Present. That is the energy I’m calling in.

So I sat with it. Because, hey! Here’s a date! Sure, I could go get laid, or simply be adored by a man. But that’s not the point. I felt like this was the Universe and my Guides gently testing me. Testing whether I could really align my words with my actions. Do the spoken and dreamt desires match what I do? And if they don’t, what am I telling the Universe? What does it signal to Life when I say I want one thing, but I keep doing something else? Keep doing what I’ve always done…

So… I said no. I told him I had plans, then got dolled up and took myself out for oysters. And I had the best time! Also, telling someone you have plans when your plans are with yourself? The new badass coolgirl unlock I didn’t know I needed.

I went to Found Oyster for seafood, then across the street to Saffy’s for skewers and dessert. As I was walking in, a very sexy man with an accent was walking in too, and I told myself I’d try to give him my number if I saw him again. At the end of my meal, I found him and his friends tucked in a booth, hidden by the kitchen. I passed them on my way to the bathroom and thought, fuck it. I wrote my name and number down on a ripped piece of receipt paper, as I’ve done so many times before, and got up the courage to politely interrupt their dinner and hand it to him.

It’s been a while since I’ve done something bold like that! And yes, what about wanting to be pursued? But I realized something as I walked away: performing a bold gesture like that isn’t about the guy. It’s not about the date you might get. It’s about you. It’s about practicing confidence and advocating for your self-worth. And it’s about having fun! It’s like jumping off a cliff into water - the jump is always scarier than the landing. But once you jump, you’re already in. You’ve already done it. And it wasn’t for the people at the bottom watching, it was for you - to know that you could. To know that you could do something scary and not only survive, but be better afterward. Because the rush of falling and the relief of landing are so damn exhilarating that it inspires you to be bolder in the rest of your life.

Get clear about what you want. About what feels good and what feels gross. Learn to listen to your body and trust it! It will always be your wisest guide. Words + aligned action=/__u/isabellapendleton.substack.com/integrity. Then watch how Life unfolds from there. What power do we gain when we stop settling and start living in integrity? What life awaits us when we start living boldly because it’s fucking fun? My guess is… one with a whole lot of magic.

As an incredibly cerebral person, I’ve often struggled with the concept of right vs. wrong. An ideology at total odds with my belief system around how Life and energy operate ~ there is no “right” vs “wrong”, there are just choices. And those choices all have consequences. (This is not to say there isn’t right and wrong, good or bad in the world ~ I just mean day-to-day decision making; the fear of making wrong choices.) This perpetual fear I’ve battled has historically been one of my favorite modes to get in my own way. When you get caught in the mind, in the mental trap of right and wrong, you psych yourself out of doing anything because you’ve convinced yourself that there is a wrong way to do it. And so action itself takes the hit.

I have a dear friend and mentor who has helped me see this pattern in myself for years. I’m much more aware of it now, but it’s still there and loves to make itself known from time to time. I think it’s interesting, though, because I see a lot of this pressured energy in the wellness world. It also reminds me of how polished the youth of today are, so aware of mental and physical health that it’s hard to feel totally proud of it. This hyperfixation on appearance and wellness has seeped into younger generations, stripping them of an archetypal adolescence and all the classically terrible choices kids are supposed to make and learn from.

I’m not a parent, so I’m sure this will be poorly received by some, but aren’t kids supposed to… be kids? Aren’t teenagers meant to stay up late on weekends, text on their bffs when they should be doing homework, try weed for the first time with the bad girl in the neighborhood in the alley by the dumpsters, and go to parties just to accidentally get too drunk and throw up on their crush in front of all his friends, only to be told the next week at school because they blacked out from the Popov vodka they stole from their mom’s liquor cabinet? Or was that just me?

As the adults in the room (how did that happen?!), we’re the ones trickling this shit down. The wellness space has become this capitalist pressure cooker disguised as a healing container. Hell-bent on wanting us to buy different gadgets, tools, and guides to help us relax more deeply, detox better, and optimize faster. Isn’t it ironic that this concept, which is based on free tools like sunshine, meditation, movement, community, connection, and whole foods, is now a billion-dollar industry predicated on our consumption? A well-crafted narrative that there is a right and wrong way to do it. Like so much else on the internet, it becomes a breeding ground for comparison and self-flagellation.

I think a lot of people in this space get so caught up with getting it right that they miss the whole point: peace & well-being. If we’re so stressed about whether we did our morning routine perfectly or if we missed a supplement one day and it sends us spiraling into an anxiety attack, that’s not a routine, it’s an insecure attachment.

The wellness industry has become another vehicle to monetize our fears - to commodify the pervasive systemic perfectionism of American culture. If I take these supplements in this order for this many days while also biohacking every other element of my life, I’ll be safe. Safe from disappointment, change, and ultimately, death. But what’s that saying? Make plans, and God laughs. There is no protection against Life, no guarantee that we can achieve immortality or perpetual immunity to injury.

I know that the times in my life when I’ve busied myself with appointments (name it, I’ve tried it) were really about avoiding living. I was using these tools as a way to feel a sense of purpose, that my existence would matter more if I was keeping up with the Joneses. Running from colonic to lymphatic drainage massage to pilates to my morning lemon water with celtic sea salt and electrolytes and colostrum and raw milk with cinnamon and eating all my food in the right order to prevent glucose spikes and oh don’t eat bananas anymore because of the sugar and what do you mean you don’t use organic pasture raised eggs from a farm in the Catskills and you still sweeten your coffee with maple syrup instead of stevia?? And you still drink coffee?!

If I missed a meditation, I had failed. It would send me into a shame spiral that could take me down for the whole day, if not longer. Is that wellness? Or is it addiction? Addiction to rightness, to perfection, to rigidity. I think somewhere on this road, we lost the plot on “wellness” and have forgotten how to live well.

After stopping nearly everything I was doing (a major health crisis will shake things up), these are the things that are foundational to me. I can’t do much of what I was doing before due to non-existent kidney function, so I’ve had a clean slate to work with (I’m a glass-half-full kinda girl). But it’s also brought up this idea of: if I can’t do all these things, am I not taking care of myself? And the answer is, of course, not! Wellness isn’t a copy-and-paste system. Our bodies are so different and therefore need/desire unique systems! But that is, of course, what makes them beautiful and fun.

1. SLEEP

   As I’ve gotten older, I’ve realized quality sleep is truly the foundation of feeling great. I get off screens an hour before bed, turn on high-frequency meditation music, dim the lights, do my skincare, and aim to get in bed before 10:30. I listen to brown noise while I sleep (you’re welcome) and then the whole gamut - earplugs, silk eye mask, and mouth tape. I am not a bonnet girl, at least not yet, but an Eileen West nightgown will give you that Nancy Meyers main character energy we’re all after.

2. BED CARE

   Quality sheets & making the bed. I believe investing in linens makes a huge difference in sleep quality. I love the linen duvet cover from West Elm and the sheets from Piglet in Bed for beautiful patterns, and Quince for a wonderful budget-friendly option. Make your bed every morning, every morning! This has been a staple of mine for YEARS, and no, I haven’t done it my whole life; it’s something I had to adopt and commit to. But like anything, it’s now a built-in habit. It’s so simple, yet it makes the biggest difference in how you move through your day. When your space is clean, you feel more centered.

3. SIMPLE SKIN CARE

   In the age of 20-step skin care routines, I firmly believe less is more. I mean, yeah -do some of these people sharing videos of their glass skin in the morning after sleeping with all their products sealed in under a bio-film sheet mask, look incredible? Sure. Do I think it’s necessary? Absolutely not.

   As someone who has spent thousands of hours and dollars trying to self-diagnose, buy whatever the new trendy product was, and never had great skin success until the last few years, I can confidently advise: find an esthetician you trust and follow their expertise! Get facials regularly if you can afford it, or a few times a year for maintenance. I don’t love recommending skin care for this reason, but I can shout out my amazing esthetician in LA, Rochelle. She has truly saved and changed my skin. I also love FaceGym (LA, NYC, London) for regular face massage and Buccal treatments. If you suffer from TMJ, this is a godsend.

   I will caveat my skincare recs with a few of my fave non-comedogenic sunscreens because no one wants melasma here! Fave tinted: Skinny Confidential and Color Science. Fave non-tinted: PCA Skin, Goldfaden MD (subtle glow). **Note that my skin runs dry and acne-prone. And my favorite tool, the Skinny Confidential Ice Roller.

4. Presence Work

   Whether this is meditation, breathwork, journaling, or a combination of the three. Starting the day with a practice that grounds you in the present moment will undoubtedly shape your day and your energy in a profound way. I’ve been journaling since I was a child, so it comes naturally to me. I think the key is to just go for it - don’t overthink it, and you’ll find your groove and your style. Find a journal you love and just keep getting the same one. I love my large, soft-cover, blank-page Moleskines.

   Meditation can be tough to start, but remember: it’s not about reaching some elusive state of Nirvana; it’s about noticing the thoughts and sensations that arise, acknowledging them, and returning to your meditation practice, whether that’s the breath or a mantra. I had a teacher once tell me it’s like watching clouds in the sky; you don’t judge the clouds for being there, you just notice them and let them pass by. With tons of wonderful apps these days, these practices are more accessible than ever. I like the Waking Up app, Open, and Insight Timer.

5. Movement

   This is crucial and non-negotiable for me. The impact it has on your mental health as well as your physical body is unmatched, in my opinion. The confidence I gain from a consistent movement practice is unlike any other area. Feeling strong feels great. Simple as that! Who doesn’t want to feel sexy AND emotionally stable?? I am a big proponent of lifting weights - having more muscle is beneficial for so many reasons, including metabolism speed, immune response, and improved bone density. I will work with a trainer if I feel I need support or if I’m new to the gym scene (it can help with gym anxiety/insecurity). Or if you’re confident at a gym, I love Ben Bruno’s programs as well as Sara Kathryns on Playbook. I also loooove pilates! I’ve been doing it for years now, and it has made an incredible impact on my core strength and lean muscle tone. I love a good reformer class, but they’re so expensive, and I actually prefer to do mat pilates at home. My favorites are Melissa Wood Health (the OG and my intro to pilates) and The Pilate Class (what all the Monday Swim girls do, and yes, I’d like to look like all of them, please!). I have also heard great things about The Sculpt Society and am looking forward to trying their classes!

   

6. Nature

   This one is simple: get into nature as much as possible. If you’re in a funk, go for a hike. If you’re angry, find a body of water. If you’re anxious, be around some trees. If you’re sad, get into some fresh air. Use AllTrails to find amazing trails in your area.

7. Nutrition

   Yes, food. Protein - totally. But really, whole foods. Visit your local farmers’ markets from time to time - learn what’s in season - befriend a farmer! Eat loads of fruits and veggies while lying in the sun. Aim for protein at every meal (I know the protein conversation is totally out of hand right now, but when it comes to building muscle, it really is crucial). I know some women can really struggle to get enough in because, for me, I literally just couldn’t eat that much food. When I was able to, I was loving utilizing amino acids - I highly recommend listening to interviews of Kion Aminos founder, Angelo Keely to learn more about the science behind them. Kion Aminos powder and BodyHealth Perfect Amino tablets were how I transformed my body composition without feeling like I had to eat more than felt comfortable!

I don’t want it to get twisted: I love wellness! Self-care is basically a hobby of mine, and I think it’s become that for a lot of us. And I think that’s lovely as long as it really is self-caring. It was never about maximum optimization; it was about slowing down and paying attention. Find the simple tools that feel good and don’t try to rewrite the script too often. Go live and be well.

the in-between. the often unspoken. the subtext. the surreal and visceral landscapes of aliveness.

My name is Izzy

I am a Los Angeles native, born & raised in the Hollywood Hills; a piece of personal trivia that took me well into adulthood to appreciate what it means to be from such a wild and vibrant place. Born under a full moon on a Wednesday night at my parents’ house in Spaulding Square, cradled by candlelit midwives, famously birthed onto a cookie sheet after my father scrambled through the kitchen and frantically asked, “What’s a cookie sheet?!”

In my lifelong search for purpose, place, and belonging, I overlooked the one thing that’s always been there because it is so innate to who I am, so core to my being, that it’s been hidden in plain sight. I am and always have been a writer. Songs, poetry, stories, scripts ~ all of it. It’s what saves me when I’m sinking, what buoys me when I’m lost, and what effortlessly expands me when I’m free.

After a decade (or maybe a lifetime) of vacillating between the fear of being seen and the deep desire to be known, this is a sort of homecoming, a returning to self through my truest expression. Here to share my musings of an inner world, as well as the outer world I hold so dear, as a solo traveler who cannot travel due to an unforeseen medical event. In December of last year, I went through kidney failure and was put on dialysis, which I now do for three hours three times a week. Tethered to a chair, bound to a machine that keeps me alive. A bird with its wings cut, a fairy with no flight. But in the midst of it all, remembering that a bird still knows what the trees look like from above and a fairy never loses its magic.

Here is to (finally) being seen in the purest way I could be. I hope some of what I share can bring solace and a sense of camaraderie to others - to anyone who has ever felt lost, stuck, or betrayed - by a lover, a friend, a family member, themselves, the medical system, their body. To any woman who has ever been patronized by a man (which I imagine is every woman ever, so hopefully that bodes well for a solid following) and specifically any woman who has ever been gaslit by the western medical system and made to feel crazy, irrational, or stupid (hysterical, if you will).

To anyone who’s experienced grief, loss, love, heartache, and heartbreak. To anyone who’s left someone they loved because they knew it wasn’t right. To anyone who’s stayed with someone for far too long because their self-worth was still on the line. To anyone who has ever doubted their worth or what they deserve. To anyone who has ever felt ignored and unheard. To anyone who has laughed so hard that they cried. To anyone who has ever felt something greater than themselves that cannot be denied. To anyone looking for meaning and guidance. To anyone searching for hope and reassurance. To anyone who takes a little darkness with sugar and cream. To anyone who’s been brave enough to sit in their car and scream.

This is for you. This is for us. Thank you for witnessing me. I hope in the process, you yourself feel a little more seen.