When Did We Stop Caring How We Show Up?

Image, Illness and The Psychology of Self-Respect

I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately, especially after seeing a post that stirred a firestorm. Someone simply asked, “When did it become acceptable to leave the house looking like we’ve given up?” And instantly, people pounced. Accusations flew. The comment was called shallow, outdated, even cruel.

But here’s the truth. That question didn’t insult people.

It triggered them.

Because, deep down, many women no longer recognize themselves. They don’t know how to come back to the version of themselves who once cared about how they walked through the world.

I know that woman. I was her.

There was a time in my life when I was unraveling. My relationship, eight years of loyalty and faulted love, collapsed in betrayal. (Let me mention that talking about a process that you went through is true healing. If it triggers someone else, that is their reflection of a lack of empathy and has nothing to do with you or dismisses what you went through) While I was being diagnosed with a chronic illness and barely holding myself together physically, emotionally, and financially, he was entertaining other women and moving them into his home behind my back.

There was no compassion. No care. No comfort.

And while I was managing hospital runs, unexplained fatigue, anxiety spirals, and trying to figure out what was happening in my body, my medical team gave me little to no answers. In the process of it all, I began to suspect that what I was being sold was more about profit than healing. That’s when I stopped trusting the system. I started researching B-cells, immune function, and trauma links because no one was helping me connect the dots.

The diagnosis came: Chronic Lymphocytic Leukemia. Slow-growing. Watch and wait, they said.
But something in me refused to just wait for it to get worse. So I took charge. All the while reeling with that process, a mass the size of a grapefruit embedded itself on the wall of my uterus. Multiple female surgeries followed. More undiagnosed and ignored issues due to a very faulty system.

I researched the emotional patterns associated with CLL. The energetic profile of betrayal and suppression of expression. I started drinking more filtered water, reducing sugar, and walking more. I added anti-inflammatory foods to my plate and removed people who drained my peace. I dug into the science of the nervous system, trauma healing, and the power of cellular repair through belief, movement, and lifestyle.

I weaned off synthetic hormones. I monitored my lymphatic health. I studied holistic options that most doctors don’t even mention. Somewhere in the middle of all of that, I lost myself. But not for long.

The rebuild started with something simple. My reflection. There’s something most people don’t understand unless they’ve gone through the kind of loss that strips you to the bone. Sometimes the only thing you can control is how you show up.

So I began to walk every other day 3-6 miles. I began to nourish my body differently. Even when I was tired, dizzy, and unsure of what the next test or trigger might bring, I got up, I got dressed, and I faced the day. Not for attention. Not to look good. But because my reflection became my reminder.

I am still here. I still matter. I will not disappear into this. Self-neglect isn’t just a style choice.

When women (and men) stop caring about their image, it’s rarely about laziness or vanity.

It’s grief.

It’s burnout.

It’s betrayal, hormone shifts, medical gaslighting, and soul weariness.

But here is the truth I stand by. It is not acceptable to ignore your image if it means you’ve stopped believing in yourself. Because of how we show up sends a message. To ourselves first.

No, this doesn’t mean contouring your face to look 25 or running out to buy a new wardrobe.
It means respecting your reflection. It means choosing dignity when the world has tried to strip it from you.

He continued the aggravating verbal assaults, even calling me “into myself” but what he really meant was “I can no longer control you.” Even after everything ended, he kept reaching out.

Hovering.

Dropping breadcrumbs.

And when I didn’t play small anymore, when I kept showing up with confidence and clarity, he tried to shame me with: “Girls like you... so into yourself.”

But here’s what he didn’t know. I had already been through the fire. I wasn’t into myself. I had finally come back to myself. The version of me that emerged from betrayal, illness, heartbreak, and burnout wasn’t dressing up for praise.

Healing from betrayal and illness doesn’t always look like green smoothies and quiet meditations.
Sometimes it’s loud. Sometimes it’s rage and research. Sometimes it’s pulling your hair back, putting your boots on, and deciding..

“I will not go down like this.” There are other women who need to see this. They need to see that there is another side to betrayal. Another side to illness. Another side to abandonment and exhaustion, and fog.

This is what real healing looks like. Not perfect. Not easy. But possible. So if you’re in that place where the mirror feels foreign, where sweatpants feel safer than standing tall, where exhaustion and grief are dressing you more than your own hands, I get it. But I challenge you to take one small step. Put on something that makes you feel like you.

Shower, brush your hair. Put on the lipstick. Or don’t. But do something that says I’m worth showing up for today. Because you are...

And because how we show up isn’t about who’s watching. It’s about who we are becoming, in full view of our own beautiful, resilient selves.

I would love to know your story! Better yet, I would love for you to book a Vision Board Class based on Life Coaching. The class is $65.00 private or group. It is an open dialogue of who you are, what you have endured, and where you want to see your life go!

kitryn_marie@yahoo.com to schedule.

It is an ART ENRICHMENT Class.

Kitryn Marie

#Art #Instructor #writer #Lifecoaching