How I Learned to Stop Living Against My Cycle — And what changed when I finally stopped fighting my own body.
- Maria

- 15. Mai
- 4 Min. Lesezeit
For years, I thought something was wrong with me.
Not dramatically wrong. Not the kind of wrong that sends you to a specialist. Just a quiet, persistent sense that my body was unreliable. That I was unreliable. Some weeks I felt capable, clear, energised — and other weeks I could barely finish a workout, my skin looked different, I felt heavier, slower, more emotional. And I had no idea why.
So I did what most of us do. I googled my symptoms. I wondered if I had some undiagnosed condition. I told myself to be stricter, more consistent, more disciplined. I pushed through the days when my body was asking for rest. I denied myself chocolate on the days I craved it. I dragged myself to workouts I did not have the energy for.
And then I wondered why nothing felt sustainable. Why I kept cycling — no pun intended — between pushing too hard and collapsing entirely.
The answer, it turned out, was simpler and more profound than anything I had found on Google.
I was living as if I were the same every day.
We live in a world that was largely designed around a 24-hour hormonal cycle — which happens to be the cycle of a man. Wake up, perform, repeat. Same energy expected every day. Same output, same consistency, same drive.
But a woman's body does not operate on a 24-hour cycle. It operates on a roughly 28-day one. And within that cycle, everything changes — hormones, energy levels, mood, cognitive strengths, physical capacity, social needs, even skin and digestion.
When I did not know this, I interpreted every dip as failure. Every low-energy day as laziness. Every craving as weakness. Every need for solitude as something to push through.
I was not failing. I was simply in a different phase — and I had no framework to understand it.
What I discovered when I started paying attention.
The menstrual cycle has four phases — and each one has its own character, its own strengths, its own needs.
The Menstrual Phase — winter.
The body asks for rest, reflection, inward focus. This is not the time to push — it is the time to listen. I used to drag myself to high-intensity workouts during this phase and wonder why I felt destroyed. Now I walk, stretch, sleep more. And I recover faster.
The Follicular Phase — spring.
Estrogen rises. Energy returns. Clarity sharpens. This is the time to start new projects, plan, create, push physically. I naturally give 200% here now — not because I force it, but because my body is genuinely ready.
The Ovulatory Phase — summer.
Peak energy, highest confidence, most socially open. This is when I schedule important meetings, dates, social events. My communication is clearest here. My relationships feel easiest.
The Luteal Phase — autumn.
Progesterone rises then falls. Energy becomes more inward. Detail-oriented work suits this phase — editing, finishing, organising. The body may retain water, crave carbohydrates, need more sleep. This is biology, not weakness.
Once I understood this map — everything looked different.
What actually changed.
The first thing that changed was the simplest: I became kinder to myself. Not in a soft, self-help way — but in a deeply practical way. When I understood that my water retention in the luteal phase was hormonal, not a failure of discipline, I stopped hating my body for it. When I understood that my craving for chocolate before my period was my body asking for magnesium, I stopped treating it as weakness.
The second thing that changed surprised me: my results improved. In fitness, in work, in creativity. Not despite the rest — because of it. When I stopped pushing in phases that needed recovery, I came back to my high-output phases with so much more to give. The 200% in my follicular phase was only possible because I had genuinely rested in winter.
The third thing was unexpected: my relationships improved. I stopped dragging myself to social events when I genuinely needed solitude — and I stopped resenting the people I was with. In my luteal phase, I now protect my energy. I say no to things that would drain me. And then, in my follicular and ovulatory phases, I show up fully — for my partner, my friendships, the people I love. They get the real version of me, not the exhausted one.
I was not more present by forcing myself to always be present. I was more present by honouring when I needed to be absent.
Where to begin.
You do not need an app or a complicated system to start. You need one thing: awareness.
For one month — just one — track how you feel each day. Not just physically, but emotionally, mentally, socially. Note your energy, your motivation, your mood, your body. Do not try to change anything yet. Just observe.
By the end of the month, you will begin to see a pattern. And once you see it — you cannot unsee it. Your body has been speaking this whole time. You are simply finally learning the language.
This is not about becoming less ambitious. It is about becoming more intelligent in how you direct your energy — so that what you give to your work, your body, and the people you love actually comes from a place of fullness rather than depletion.
I spent years being harder on myself than I would ever be on anyone I loved. I thought that was strength.
Learning my cycle taught me that the most powerful thing I could do was work with my nature — not against it. That rest is not the opposite of progress. That softness is not the opposite of strength.
Your body was never your enemy. It has been your most loyal guide — waiting for you to listen.
With love,
Maria



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