About Me
My name is Tharshana, and my roots are from Sri Lanka. As a child, I grew up in a big family household where we lived as a community. The women would gather, eat together, watch the moon, and speak about their day. There was warmth, laughter, and togetherness.
Then my family had to move. The place we moved to was far from any community, and I became very lonely. I didn’t only go through the grief of being separated from the women I was surrounded by, but I also had to live with a father who was very violent and abusive. Even though I had my wonderful mother, she had to work seven days a week to provide for our family, as she was the only one working.
I didn’t have anyone to be there for me when I was mentally down or when life became heavy. The abuse at home grew even more violent. Many times, I tried to end my life. I self-harmed and survived. I fell into a very dark hole where I felt I had only two options: either stand up and change my life into the life I wished for, or stay there and end it.
That was the moment I sat with myself and began asking deep questions. I was 17 years old, and slowly I started to understand my world. That was when my spiritual journey began. Something inside me shifted when I sat down, prayed, communicated with my higher self, and began doing shadow work. My life slowly started to change in a positive way.
When I turned 18, I made two choices: I joined the gym and became vegetarian and vegan on some days. One was a good choice, and the other wasn’t.
When I was 19, my mother and biological father separated, and he moved out. That was the day I could finally take a deep breath in my own body the day I saw light after a long, dark tunnel.
As the years passed, I built my dream life and alchemized darkness into light. I turned my pain into purpose. But ten years later, my menstrual pain only grew worse. Finally, at 27, a doctor confirmed I had endometriosis. I underwent laparoscopic surgery to remove an endometriosis cyst on my right ovary. During the surgery, they discovered something unexpected: the cyst was not a 5 cm endometriosis cyst, but an 11.5 cm tumor.
The surgery was successful, but the pain did not get any better. That was when I made a promise to myself: this time, I would not let my body suffer. I promised my womb that I was here, that I would listen, that I would heal, and that I would fully come back into my body. I changed my entire lifestyle. I began eating meat again to truly nourish my body and my womb so she could heal. That path eventually led me to MA School.
It is not the womb that hurts.
It is the grief we carry.
It is the lifestyle we live.
It is the boundaries we do not set.
It is the absence of community of women bleeding together, praying together and laughing together.
The womb is not broken.
She is communicating.
She is asking us to listen.
To slow down.
To say no when we mean no.
It is not the womb that hurts it is us hurting ourselves when we move away from our purpose.
It is not only the womb that screams.
It is our ancestors screaming through us.
It is ancient wisdom rising in the body, asking us to remember who we are.
In this lifetime, I choose to be in service to women.
To hold them.
To nourish them.
To support women in bringing their bodies back into alignment, so they can fully be in their body and remember the power of being a woman.
When a woman is aligned in her body, she moves differently.
She walks differently.
She walks her path as her highest self.
Maybe, when I was younger, if I had seen a woman who was fully embodied, her presence would have given me permission to be myself.
Today, I choose to become that woman so when little girls see me, they remember their own essence.
This work is a warm hug to my younger self,
the one who chose not to give up,
and the one who became the woman she is today.