I "Looked Good" (But I Wasn't *Well*)
Jan 19, 2026
There’s been this recent trend on social media of people posting photos from 2016. And I was happily about to skip right past it - because I know exactly who I was then (I'm talking: emotional, mental & physical health at an all-time low, despite looking like a South Beach Barbie Doll) - and I really didn’t think I wanted to do a trip down memory lane…
…but here we are.
(yes, there’s a point to this - so let’s continue, shall we?)
Let’s kick this story off with some photo evidence of me at the end of 2014 (because I looked the same as I did here in 2016 - sick).
This picture is NOT a flex.
It was my “body goals” at the time - but knowing how I felt underneath that wannabe Herve Leger bandage dress shiny mask (dysregulated as fuck & depressed, albeit on-trend) is why I’m sharing.
I may be smiling here, but I can assure you it wasn’t anything remotely close to joy.
It was over-efforting mixed with despair.
I was trying SO hard to convince myself I was okay, while my life was quietly falling apart at the seams in the background.
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I was still navigating life after divorce in my early 30s, starting over from literally nothing - including my career, after leaving a 6-figure corporate luxury hospitality job in Manhattan to pursue a profession (at a little over minimum wage) in the Health & Wellness industry in Miami.
And just like that...
...the joke was on me, thinking it would be a smooth transition.
Take the shock of starting from scratch on my own with no money in the bank, then add in extreme heartbreak from another significant & deeply confusing relationship abruptly ending without closure, then sprinkle in some adrenaline & finish it off with a bit of unresolved trauma - and you've got a molotov cocktail of issues, baby.
For reference, I'd struggled with body image my entire life [cue: being nicknamed "Miss Piggy" by the tender age of 8 by some asshole in second grade] & subsequently had a pretty severe eating disorder by the time I was in college, triggered by a dramatic, "my-first-love" "my-first-boyfriend-with-a-personality-disorder" break-up.
After my divorce, I dropped twenty pounds in a few months (this time, without trying whatsoever - just pure anxiety & existential dread).
Everyone noticed. I noticed, too.
I liked how I looked. I felt powerful again.
(Note: this was dangerous thinking.)
So I kept going.
In this photo above, I was PEAK disordered eating & severely underweight (I’m almost 5’8” for reference).
To be honest, this photo is triggering & I hesitated posting it, because a dysfunctional body type isn't something I glamorize & it brings back lonely, shitty flashbacks - but it’s an important part of understanding the true arc (my "why") that eventually led me to the sensual embodiment & intimacy work I do now with other women.
I intentionally didn’t save images from this period of my life (because why keep memories of your most dismal chapter?! I have a very dark sense of humor & even I've got my limits), but a friend recently sent me this one because it was taken on my birthday in December of that year.
Even looking at it now reminds me of how incredibly empty & sad I felt that night - how desperate I was for relief.
So desperate that I continued for several more years to punish my body through restrictive food & over-exercising, because every other part of my life felt completely out of control.
My body felt like the only thing I could “manage” in a predictable way.
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During this period, I was trying to mitigate my denial of chronic depression by simultaneously doing a lot of the “right” feminine things: spa days, beauty rituals, ocean swims.
From the outside it looked like devotion. Inside, I was in total survival mode.
I wasn’t listening to my body at all - I was micromanaging it.
The more uncertain my life felt, the more I buckled down.
Food became an obsession. Exercise became a way to “fix” myself. Pleasure became something I earned or withheld, depending on the day. My body became a project - a distraction from all the emotions I didn’t want to feel.
There’s a moment when control feels like "empowerment", especially for women who’ve just experienced massive loss.
It’s seductive.
It looks like discipline & strength.
Most of the time, it’s actually deep fear & grief in disguise.
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Fast forward to the start of 2016.
I had just moved back home with my parents after getting fired from some version of a day job with a reliable paycheck for the third time in a row (for being over-qualified, lol).
I could no longer pay my bills on my own & I seemed to be allergic to the 9–5 life - because no matter how hard I tried to cling to that security net, I kept getting released back into the wild.
So I decided to take it as a sign that I was, in fact, destined to build an online spiritual business after all.
But I’ll be honest: I felt completely fucking lost that year.
Not to mention the extreme blow to my ego after having to move back home with family in my late 30s (hello, I’m an overachiever & couldn’t even hold down a mediocre "steady" job without getting the boot).
I was juggling the beginnings of full-time entrepreneurship in my parents' spare bedroom, while secretly feeling like an utter FLOP.
During the first few months of 2016, my YouTube channel exploded almost overnight (from like 50 subscribers to over 10K) after deciding - on a whim/intuitive download - to start posting videos about Conscious Relationships & Sacred Union.
(I mean, Healer Heal Thyself, right? I was genuinely doing my best to resolve my own struggles by serving others around the same challenges)
That year was a massive professional high...followed by a major crash.
I had a waiting list up to three months long for 1:1 intuitive sessions, but the emotional intensity of that work wasn’t sustainable & I burned out within a year in that structure.
By the end of 2016, I really didn’t know where I would end up.
Even though my business seemed to be growing, I'd hit yet another wall & behind the scenes, my self-esteem was still in the toilet.
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I still vividly remember sending my weekly email newsletter at the start of 2017, calling it my year of “YIN".
It was my attempt to slow down, integrate my feminine energy & return to my body.
I made a vow to simplify everything. To soften & to listen.
And yes...I have the receipts (found this in my email).
It was after that year’s commitment to the divine feminine that I finally began to understand what it meant to listen to my body.
To nurture her properly.
To give her what she actually needed.
To honor rest.
To treat movement & food as nourishment.
To see pleasure as something sacred - not something “bad” or that needed to be earned.
I actually felt what it meant to say: My body is my temple.
Fast forward to 2021, when my first women’s immersion - centered around feminine embodiment - was born: Return of Venus.
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And after several more years of integration, healing & growth - this is me today, in my mid-40s:
Calm.
Comfortable & at peace in my *healthy* body.
Cooking for the fun of it & nourishing myself with clean, whole foods - without feeling restricted.
Emotionally Regulated.
Embodied in real joy (by the pool, in a bikini, in December - yes, please!!!).
Choosing low-impact movement that's nurturing, not a punishment. Things like walking, pilates, yoga & a few days of weight-lifting that don't stress me out, while it all feels like self-care and helps me drop out of my head...fueling me in a gentle, mindful way.
Choosing pleasure that's healing: quiet time sipping morning coffee in a linen robe, beauty rituals, slow walks listening to nature instead of my phone. Not my previous version of "pleasure", which included things like: shots of tequila alone in my bedroom, binge eating (followed by bouts of starvation) or hooking up with unavailable men.
No more chaos disguised as "aliveness".
Slow living is a devotional practice & sensual feminine embodiment is just as essential for my well-being as my daily Buddhist meditations.
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When I look at her now - that woman in the red dress - I don’t see someone who needs fixing.
I see someone who was starving for safety & had absolutely no idea yet how to create it from within - and she was doing the best she could with the tools she had at the time.
And now, all I can do is send that young woman unconditional love & remind her that she deserves the entire world.
Not once she’s “healed enough” to be worthy of it.
Not because she has anything to prove.
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And one day - over a decade later - she’ll TRULY (and finally) believe it.
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With love (especially to my sweet former self),
Ali xx
🌹 If you’re in your own season of returning to your body - to pleasure, presence, self-trust & feminine ease - Return of Venus is the embodiment work that was born from this exact journey.
