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Two years ago, I started hearing sounds from my body — whispers in the form of aches, fatigue and odd little symptoms that didn’t quite add up. I was a thriving mother, a shareholder in a multimillion dollar company, and I traveled often. I thought I was listening to my body. But I wasn’t. Not really.
It wasn’t until I wound up in an emergency room thousands of miles from home that I understood the truth: I had been hearing, but I hadn’t been listening.
The changes to my body began in 2022. I felt a marked shift in my energy. Until then, I had been the type of person to wake up early, without an alarm, excited to start the day. Suddenly, mornings felt heavy, like I was moving through molasses. Episodes of vertigo would catch me off guard. I felt sluggish in a way that was foreign to me — like someone had turned down the brightness on my energy.
I connected with a holistic nutritionist who advised me to get a comprehensive blood panel and suggested some dietary shifts — cutting back on dairy, skipping salads (to my surprise), and avoiding gaseous foods. I took her dietary advice. But the lab order she urged me to take? It sat on my desk for months. Then months turned into a year.
Why didn’t I go? Part of it was logistical — I told myself I didn’t have the time. And then there was the cost. Comprehensive testing is expensive, and even though I had no problem investing in other parts of my life, when it came to my own well-being, I hesitated. Looking back now, I see how backward that was. What could possibly be more important than my health?
By fall 2023, my body’s whispers turned into shouts. My Raynaud’s Syndrome, which I’d had for years but had recently worsened, went from flaring occasionally to flaring daily — my fingers and toes turning blue without warning, and eventually my lips, too. I had my first bout of shingles. My digestion practically stalled; I would sometimes go a week without a bowel movement.
And still, I pressed on. I was traveling constantly — to Barcelona, Seattle and everywhere in between. My days stretched 14 hours. I poured myself into work. I poured myself into my family. And I told myself I was fine.
Until I wasn’t.
One night, in a hotel room in Seattle, across the country from my husband and child, I woke up in excruciating pain. It felt like someone had reached inside me and twisted everything in my abdomen. I stumbled to the floor and curled into the fetal position, unable to move, crying to a colleague for help. A security guard carried me from my hotel room to an Uber, and my colleague came with me to the hospital. Not even able to sit up, I curled onto the floor of the ER. After testing, I was told I needed emergency abdominal and colon surgery or I could go into septic shock.
In that moment, I could almost hear the universe saying, “We tried to warn you.”
It turns out I had cecal volvulus, when a part of the large intestine gets twisted, according to Healthline. That experience broke something open in me. My intuition had been speaking all along. It spoke through stomach pain. Through exhaustion. I just didn’t want to hear that something bigger was going on. What I’ve come to realize is that intuition isn’t just some abstract, woo-woo concept. It’s our body’s way of getting our attention. It’s also a skill — a muscle we can and should strengthen. I’ll never ignore my body again.
After that experience, which kept me hospitalized and away from home for weeks, I finally made the bloodwork appointment I had put off. I don’t know if doing the bloodwork sooner would have changed anything, but I now understood the importance of proactive self-care. I started taking vitamins. And slowly, I truly began to listen to my body.
My mindset also shifted. I no longer see investing in my health as optional, or as something I’ll “get to” when I have time. I see it as the foundation for everything else. How can I give my best to my work, my family or my community if I’m running on fumes?
Here’s what I know today: Hearing yourself and listening to yourself are not the same thing.
Hearing is easy. You can acknowledge the exhaustion, the headaches, the strange symptoms or the gut feeling that something isn’t quite right, and then go right back to business as usual. That’s what I did. I heard my body for months — years, really. I talked about it, even vowing to address my gut health as a New Year’s resolution, as if naming the problem was the same thing as addressing it. But hearing alone doesn’t change anything. It’s background noise. It lets you feel like you’re paying attention when you’re really just brushing it aside.
Listening is different. Listening requires slowing down in a world that constantly tells you to speed up. Listening requires trust — trusting signals that don’t come with spreadsheets, lab results or a neat explanation. It means noticing the way your body feels after a meal, or how your energy shifts in certain environments, or how that nagging pain keeps coming back. And then, instead of rationalizing it away, you act on it.
Listening also means making choices that can feel selfish in the moment. Saying no to one more work commitment. Canceling dinner plans because you need rest. Spending money on your health instead of something more visible or glamorous. It’s about letting go of the misconception that self-prioritization is equated with self-indulgence.
What I’ve come to understand is that listening to myself is not selfish at all — it’s the most sustainable way to keep showing up for the people I love. My body gave me warning after warning. It whispered, then it nudged, then it practically shouted. And still I pushed forward until it had no choice but to stop me completely. That’s the thing about ignoring yourself: Eventually, your body will find a way to make you listen, whether you want to or not.
I don’t want that for you. If your body is whispering, pay attention. Don’t wait until it has to scream. Don’t wait until you’re curled up on a hotel floor like I was, terrified and across the country from family, realizing what you should have known all along: You are worthy of your own care.
Listen to your body and don’t wait until it stops you in your tracks.
Melissa Gonzalez is the author of “The Purpose Pivot.”
All views expressed in this article are the author’s own.
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