Ariana oluwole
Learning to Love and Let Go
"Last Friday was the first time I said it out loud in public, I no longer have a uterus." Ariana speaks these words with quiet strength, ready at last to share the story of her womb. A story that began with joy at age ten, twisted through years of excruciating pain, and led her finally to radical acceptance.
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"My womb's story has many parts," she continues. "It started with joy when I first got my period at ten. I'd heard all the stories from my older cousins, my aunties, my grandmother about stepping into womanhood."
But joy turned to pain that very first day.
"By noon, the pain was excruciating…
Mama gave me a hot water bottle and said I'd get used to it. I believed her - my mama had never lied to me before." That first bleeding stretched into three long months.
"In college, away from my family, it got even worse. That's when I started hating my womb," she tells me, her voice softening. Later came the miscarriages, each loss deepening her pain. "I kept asking myself - did my womb reject this child? What could I have done better?"
But Ariana found her path to healing through writing. "I started discovering how to make peace with the parts of our bodies we hate. I wrote a letter to my uterus." She worked to let go of old stories about purity and fertility that she'd carried for so long.
When she got pregnant again, something shifted. "I made a pact with my uterus. Everyone said I'd need a cesarean, but I told her - you've grudged me seamless periods, you've grudged me other children. Come on, let's walk together now." She smiles at the memory.
"It became the most beautiful time with my uterus. She wasn't an alien part of my body anymore. She was my partner."
Years passed and then came fibroids and endometriosis. Dr. Frances Wurie had to deliver hard news: "You're wasting away. You can't do this anymore. But you without a womb would guarantee continuity - you being present to give love to others."
"It was the worst day of my life," Ariana admits.
She didn't rush to decide. She researched, joined support groups, sought out other women's stories. During this process, doctors discovered she also had adenomyosis. "All my life, living with two conditions, then fibroids on top - no wonder I was in so much pain."
Her body finally forced the decision. "I couldn't even hold my pee anymore. My body kept telling me I was more than just my womb." She pauses, then adds, "I thought having a hysterectomy meant ending who I am as a woman. Fourteen months later, I know that's not true."
Her therapist helped her see menopause in a new light, drawing on African traditions.
"In our villages, who are the women that remarry? The ones in menopause. The ones who stand proud with their chest open, their wrapper knotted around their waist."
Today, Ariana speaks her daily affirmations and moves her body with intention. "I've blessed my womb," she says. "This long journey brought me to appreciation at last."
She sits up straighter, her voice growing stronger. "I am a queen making positive changes. I'm a queen every day of my life, not because of the hard times, but because I deserve all the good in the world. I'm a queen because my story empowers and uplifts others."