When Your Body Says "Not Today" 😫

If you’re new here, welcome to Girlhood, the group chat we should have had all along — where we talk openly about our bodies, the questions we whisper about, and the everyday moments that make us pause, laugh, or rethink life. It’s everything you’re feeling, but didn’t know how to say. Now let’s dive in!

Hi friend,

Last week, I spent an entire Girlhood entry talking about my new home gym and how it felt like this tiny pocket of peace in my very full, very chaotic house. A place to breathe. A place to feel like myself for thirty uninterrupted minutes, which, honestly, feels like a luxury these days.

And then — because the universe loves a plot twist — my body promptly reminded me to slow down. As it tends to do when you’re living with a chronic illness.

I have Hashimoto’s, an autoimmune disease of the thyroid, and while I’m symptom-free about 85% of the time (as long as my TSH stays in check), every so often it makes itself known. Not dramatically, just a quiet, persistent nope that’s impossible to ignore.

What really gets me is that these flare-y moments always seem to show up when I’m genuinely trying to do something healthy. This time, I apparently worked out a little too close to the sun (hi, Taylor). I felt amazing in the moment — proud, energized — and then woke up the next day with a full-body hangover. And not the fun kind that follows a great night out. The kind where simply existing feels like a sport. 

It’s one of those cruel realities of living with an invisible illness, especially one we still don’t fully understand. My endocrinologist and PCP don’t think my thyroid antibodies matter as long as my TSH looks good. I respectfully disagree, because my body clearly does.

So here’s the lesson I keep relearning: I don’t earn worthiness by pushing through. Rest isn’t retreat; sometimes it’s the most productive thing I can do. And maybe the healthiest choice isn’t trying to "optimize" my body at all, it's simply listening to it. 

🔍 Ask Clara: Do thyroid antibodies actually affect symptoms?

💸 Living Longer, But Only If You Can Afford It

My co-founder Abby recently sent me a link for — wait for it — a bra insert that discreetly tracks your health data. And look, I work in women’s health. I love innovation. I love information. I love a gadget. But even I stared at my phone and thought: Okay… that’s where I draw the line.

Lately, it feels like everyone on social media is deep into longevity hacking. Full-body scans every quarter. Monthly functional testing. Supplements made from the first milk a cow produces after giving birth (yes, I'm looking at you, colostrum). And now… surveillance lingerie. 

Meanwhile, during the very same month, the government was shut down, and SNAP benefits were hanging in the balance. Millions of families were warned they might not receive their November food assistance unless lawmakers figured things out. Meaning: while some of us are fine-tuning our “biological age,” others are genuinely wondering how to put dinner on the table.

The contrast is… a lot.

And then you zoom out even further. Fitt Insider reports that global longevity spending is on track to hit $8 trillion by 2030. A massive, glimmering industry built on the promise of living longer and better. And yet nearly half of U.S. counties don’t have a single practicing OB/GYN. So many women can’t even access routine care, let alone $3,000 scans or a bra that doubles as a data center.

I’m all for innovation, truly. Better prevention and earlier detection could change everything for women. But I also want a version of wellness that isn’t reserved only for the people who can afford to “bio-hack” their way through life.

🔍 Ask Clara: What are some innovative ways to track ovulation?

💪🏻 Pilates, But Make It Strength

Speaking of “wellness,” lately it feels like everyone is choosing sides in the low-impact vs. high-impact conversation, as if your workout says something about your entire personality. Are you the person who lifts heavy and crushes intervals, or the person who prioritizes cortisol regulation and long walks? And stuck in the middle of that false divide is Pilates, which somehow still gets labeled as the “gentle” option.

But here’s the thing I’ve had to unlearn: Pilates is strength. Full stop. Those slow, controlled movements light up muscles that traditional training barely taps. The shaking isn’t a sign of weakness; it’s your stabilizers finally being invited to the party. I spent years thinking Pilates was something you added to your real routine, and now I can’t unsee how foundational it actually is.

What feels especially relevant right now, in a world where so many of us are dealing with autoimmune conditions, burnout, or just chronic fatigue from trying to be everything to everyone, is that Pilates challenges you without wiping you out. It’s effort without aftermath. Strength without the system overload. And that kind of consistency-friendly movement is wildly underrated.

Pilates also forces you to pay attention in a way high-intensity workouts sometimes let you bypass. You can’t rush through it. You can’t zone out. You have to listen. Which, ironically, is exactly how you get stronger when you have a chronic illness or a sensitive nervous system in the first place.

So if you’ve ever brushed off Pilates as “extra” or “not enough,” consider this your reminder that low-impact does not mean low-strength. Sometimes the savviest thing you can do for your body is choose the kind of hard that supports you, not the kind that depletes you.

🔍 Ask Clara: What are the benefits of low impact exercise?

🤰🏼 Preterm Birth Report Card: Why a D+ Isn’t Just a Grade

When I saw the news that the U.S. earned a D+ (again) for preterm births, my body reacted before my mind even caught up. The grade comes from the March of Dimes’ 2025 Report Card, which tracks maternal and infant health across the country each year. And even though my own brush with preterm labor happened back in 2018, there’s still a part of me that remembers exactly what it feels like when a pregnancy suddenly tilts from “routine” to “uncertain.”

I was 27 weeks with my twins when a standard scan turned into an unexpected sprint to the hospital. One day my cervix looked perfectly normal; the next, it had shortened dramatically, and I was contracting every few minutes without realizing it. It’s such a surreal shift — going from thinking about your baby shower to being on bed rest, trying to steady yourself while everything around you changes.

So when I see that D+, it doesn’t land like a distant statistic. It hits in the place that remembers how fragile those moments are, and how deeply the quality of your care shapes what happens next. I was incredibly fortunate. I had a hospital close by, doctors who didn’t hesitate, and the privilege of hearing, “We’re keeping you here until it’s safe.” Not everyone gets that sentence. In fact, according to the March of Dimes, half of U.S. states received a D or an F, and more states saw their preterm birth rates worsen than improve.

And those disparities baked into the numbers? They’re not about biology. They’re about access, longstanding inequities, and the reality that some mothers are navigating pregnancy with far fewer supports than others. If a healthy pregnancy can unravel overnight, imagine facing that same fear without the safety nets so many of us assume will be there.

That’s why this grade matters. Not because it’s disappointing, but because it’s personal. It’s lived. It’s a reflection of the women who’ve been through it, the women who weren’t supported, and the women who still won’t be unless something drastically changes.

xo,
Kristyn

📚 What I’m Reading: The Girls Who Grew Big by Leila Mottley — a tender, tangled portrait of teen motherhood and the fierce, messy girlhood bonds that hold us together.