Why I Let Go of the Needles

I have never been one to follow an expected path or do what people think I should. I have always had a very strong internal radar and almost no ability to resist my heart once it sets its intention on a course of action. If I'm lucky, my heart knows where we are going before my head gets in the way.

It was during perimenopause that I first began to question what felt true in my life. I now recognise that this is part of the whole thing. For reasons I couldn't quite explain, acupuncture no longer felt right. Looking back, I describe it as a karmic cycle completing itself — whatever my relationship with acupuncture was, it was simply finished.

Having been an acupuncturist for almost 25 years at that point, this was deeply confronting, destabilising and frightening. Who was I without that label? Why did it suddenly resonate so much less? And what on earth would I do instead?

When things start to fall away

Over time I've come to accept the karmic cycle explanation — there is a level of truth in it for me. But I also think other things were going on. One of the magical — though extremely challenging — aspects of this phase of life is that things start to fall away. Work, relationships, roles. It can show up anywhere. For me it was work. I had probably been overly defined by it for too long, which led to higher and higher expectations of myself and more and more stress.

‘Falling off the oestrogen cliff’ coincided with other health issues — all no doubt related to menopause, and certainly a rapid exacerbation of symptoms I had been experiencing for several years. I hear so many practitioners in this field say "I just didn't recognise what was going on for me," even though they knew those same symptoms so well in others. That was me, walking around feeling like my brain was broken.

Stopping the world and getting off

Over the past couple of years I've been in the fortunate position of being able to step back and reflect — genuinely, deeply, without distraction. On a 300km hike I realised how much I value being in my body. When I'm working hard physically, I am at my best and feel my best. From there I knew that whatever came next was going to have to be physical in some way. I needed to feel embodied. Grounded. I needed to stop letting stress run the show.

That's another thing this time has taught me: I no longer tolerate stress the way I used to. And likely, neither do you. It's a bummer in some ways — it means we are more sensitive, more easily tired, a little less resilient in certain contexts. But it also means we are far less likely to put the needs of others before our own, suffer fools, or pretend everything is fine when it isn't. That part is good.

Landing here

It has taken six months of planning and two years of reflection to arrive here — in the fullness of what I can only call my heart's wisdom. Knowing that I want to support women into and beyond menopause. Knowing that my own embodied, regulated self is able to help bring others into a more embodied, regulated state. Knowing that physical and emotional connection is so important and so often lacking. Knowing that holding space for others to share, explore, dream and sometimes fall apart is one of my great strengths. And knowing that everything I have learned and practiced across 25 years is still here — just expressed differently now.

So while I've let go of the needles, I haven't let go of anything that truly mattered. Acupuncture was always the way people found me. It was never the most important thing in my toolkit.

What I offer now is more direct, more connected and — I believe — more of what is actually needed. I'm glad to be here.