Pemphigus Vulgaris

In 2015, my body began to break in ways no one could immediately explain. I was eventually diagnosed with Pemphigus Vulgaris (PV), an extremely rare autoimmune disorder in which painful, fluid-filled blisters form on the skin and mucous membranes. It is considered potentially life-threatening, with a 5–15% mortality rate, and is often labeled incurable.

What followed was more than a health crisis—it was the unraveling of everything I thought I knew about my body, my life, and myself.

At its worst, over 90% of my body was covered in open, weeping wounds. My skin tore with movement. I was unable to wear clothing. Daily functions became nearly impossible. I slept on ice packs just to numb the pain long enough to rest, and endured treatments like twice-daily bleach baths to reduce the risk of infection.

At my most vulnerable, my family became my caretakers, supporting me in ways that ultimately increased my chances of survival.

There was an irony I could not ignore. As a licensed master esthetician, I had spent years studying the skin—the very language my body would eventually use to speak to me. What I came to understand is that the body is always communicating. The question is whether we are willing to listen, or if we silence it in an effort to suppress the symptoms.

As my physical body broke down, so did the identity I had built around it. PV became an invitation to let a false sense of self fall away and to begin living more truthfully and authentically.

I was forced into presence through the pain. There was no escaping it, no numbing it, no bypassing it. And in going deeper—into the discomfort, into the fear, into myself—I was able to move through it.

There came a point where I could no longer fight it. I had to surrender—to the process, to the unknown, and to the possibility that this experience was happening for me and through me, not to me.

Through that experience, I discovered that healing is not just physical. It is emotional. Mental. Spiritual. It is a return.

In May of 2018, I entered remission.

What emerged from that journey now lives at the core of my work—and in the story I am preparing to share more fully.