I always found health and wellness interesting. In high school, I read books about yoga, dreams, sleep, exercise, sex, reflexology, anatomy….all of it was interesting and seemed relevant to my human experience, therefore worthy of consumption. I was involved in sport from a young age, which I believe saved my self confidence from being completely in the shitter (more on that later). I eventually went on to get my master’s degree in a related field. I looked after myself as an athlete, for the most part. I was likely better than 90% of the population, but I was young and ignorant.
And then one day I watched my Dad (in his early 60s at the time) trying to close a hunting knife. I watched him fumble with it in his hands for what seemed like hours. To give some context, my Dad grew up in the Yukon. He is the epitome of an outdoorsman. Not someone that does it as a hobby, but someone that lived it, breathed it, and was forged from it. He would take his horses into the backcountry for weeks every year and come back with stories of Grizzly Bears and meat from elk or moose. So, to watch him fumble with a hunting knife….to watch him just shrug his shoulders and look at it like it was a fucking rubik’s cube was a moment of silent horror I will never forget. It was terrifying, and the sickness that pitted in my stomach was awful. I started to look for a solution to abet a feeling of complete helplessness. I took hours and hours of continuing education, I listened to countless doctors about disease, inflammation, supplementation, environmental toxins, food allergies/intolerances, mold exposure….you name it….
And then I got pregnant. And it became about more than just me or my Dad. I should have already been changed, but I didn’t love myself enough to do it for me (again, more on that later). Don’t get me wrong, it’s not like I ate like a total asshole, but we can always be better when we’re taking care of ourselves whether that’s dietary, exercise, supplementation, etc. Motherhood created a sense of urgency because everything in my environment was now affecting the development and expression of genes that I was passing to my baby. Genes from my parents before me, which included the one that creates so much confusion at a later age that you’ll forget a childhood skill.
Cavewoman came to be because I was scared.
These events are what spurred the creation of What Would Cavewoman do. They spurred the creation of a personal philosophy. Cavewoman came to be because I was scared. I was scared I was going to get old and not know who my husband was. I was scared I would get locked away in my brain, lost in a dream, and never find my way out. I was scared that I would leave my kids with a shell of myself – a reminder of someone that once was vibrant and beautiful and wild.… I was scared that my life would end in a completely unpoetic and cruel homage to the years I lived before. I was scared about being a parent, giving birth, co-sleeping, nourishing a human life properly….I was scared about making decisions that really do fucking matter.
And she gave me peace.
She simplified everything and gave me the strength to make choices that are not always popular. She reconnected me with my intuition and instincts. She continues to teach me. She is my savior, and she is my legacy. She is my sister and my mother. I am never alone, because I have her within me. We all do.
Read More: Who is Cavewoman?