Turning Pain Into Power: Why I Created this Space for Women
She Is Alchemystic exists as a space for transformation — for turning survival into self‑trust, pain into truth, and lived experience into something meaningful and life‑giving.
Alchemy is the practice of transforming what is heavy into something of value. This work is rooted in that process — not metaphorically, but as a lived reality.
When My Body Began to Break Down
There was a time when my body was collapsing while my life, on the surface, still looked intact.
I was in and out of hospital with heart issues.
I couldn’t sleep.
I couldn’t eat.
I lived in a constant state of panic — and for a long time, I didn’t have language for what I was living through.
The relationship I was in moved quickly. It was intense, passionate, and full of promises. We became engaged and began trying for a family. From the outside, it looked committed — the kind of life I thought I was supposed to want.
But slowly, the dynamic shifted.
Arguments became normal.
Blame, silence, and shame followed moments of closeness.
I found myself walking on eggshells, constantly adjusting who I was in an attempt to keep the peace.
The Slow Unravelling
Excited for a new beginning, I moved two hours away from my work, friends, and family to support his business, his hobbies and his child. Our home was idyllic surrounded by a national park, animals and the most gorgous sunsets. I was extremely excited. I believed we were building something shared — that compromise was part of love, and sacrifice part of commitment.
What I didn’t anticipate was the loneliness.
I wasn’t integrated into his world.
I wasn’t introduced to people.
I wasn’t supported in building a life where we lived.
My support system was gone, and the responsibility to “make it work” quietly fell on me.
Despite everything I offered, it was never enough.
When I expressed needs, I was told I was unreasonable, impossible, unfair. I began to minimise myself — speaking less, needing less, shrinking myself to take up as little space as possible.
My friends and family saw I wasn’t myself.
I felt it too — but I didn’t yet have the strength or self‑trust to leave.
My body carried what I couldn’t yet name.
I lost a drastic amount of weight in a short amount of time.
Hospital visits became familiar.
My nervous system never rested.
Still, I kept insisting I was fine — while falling apart inside.
Coping in the Only Way I Knew
When the isolation and anxiety became to much I started drinking alcohol to cope. Not to escape life. Not to party. But to quiet the voice inside whispering, this isn’t okay.
When the relationship ended, there was no closure.
Just silence.
Distortion.
And major attempts to discredit my character.
What remained was a body in collapse and a deep disorientation — not just from the ending, but from how much of myself I had lost along the way.
What Abuse Sometimes Looks Like
Abuse doesn’t always look the way people imagine.
Sometimes it looks like:
Chronic self‑doubt — questioning your memory, reactions, and decisions.
Unexplained health issues — panic, heart symptoms, exhaustion, inflammation.
Drastic weight loss — a body locked in fight‑or‑flight.
Panic when your phone lights up — bracing before reading messages.
Feeling like you’re always the problem — apologising for having basic needs.
Carrying guilt that isn’t yours — shame after conversations twisted against you.
Drinking to cope — not for pleasure, but for survival.
Questioning your own diary entries — doubting your reality.
Playing small — shrinking your presence to avoid conflict.
Over‑explaining — hoping clarity will earn understanding.
Struggling with boundaries — feeling guilty for protecting yourself.
Abuse doesn’t always leave bruises.
Sometimes it leaves your sense of self in pieces.
Why I’m Sharing This
I’m not sharing this for sympathy.
I’m sharing it because alchemy begins with truth — and because so many women are living inside experiences that are quietly eroding their health, identity, and self‑trust.
If your body is shutting down in a relationship, something is wrong.
No matter how committed it looks.
No matter what you’re told to tolerate.
No matter how much you’ve already sacrificed.
You don’t need anyone else to validate your pain.
What Comes Next
I didn’t choose how it ended, but I am choosing what happens next.
This space exists to share that transformation — the slow, honest work of breaking trauma bonds, rebuilding self‑trust, and healing through ritual, nourishment, rest, movement, and daily practices that support life instead of draining it.
Alchemy isn’t about bypassing what hurts.
It’s about staying present long enough for something new to emerge.
This is for the women who feel invisible in their pain.
For the ones numbing what they can’t yet name.
For the ones learning to trust what their body has been trying to say.
You’re not broken.
You’re becoming.
Anne ˙⋆✮.