Quiet Confessions, Episode 19 - One Connection That Changed Everything

After years of feeling alone in their rare postpartum experience, Chelsea finally connects with someone who truly understands—the hemorrhage, the tumor, the trauma, and the fight to survive while parenting. In this episode, Chelsea reflects on how one unexpected connection through social media felt like oxygen after years of suffocation.

Sometimes, one “me too” is all it takes to change everything.

🗝️ Key Takeaways

• Carrying rare and complex medical trauma often feels isolating.
  
  
• Finding one person who understands can be life-changing.
  
  
• Connection doesn’t always come from big communities—sometimes one “me too” is enough.
  
  
• Online “pocket friends” can provide powerful support and belonging.
  
  
• Sharing our stories creates bridges for others to find their puzzle piece.

💬 Sound Bites

1. “That connection felt like oxygen when I didn’t even realize I was suffocating.”
   
   
2. “I carried my story for years thinking I was the only one—and then suddenly I wasn’t.”
   
   
3. “One Me Too can carry you through years of inner battles.”
   
   
4. “One social media connection can change your life.”

*As mentioned in this episode, check out Kathryn's Instagram @BeyondTheBirthTrauma

Transcript

Chelsea Myers (00:38)
Hey, I'm back with another quiet confession. Just you, me, and hopefully your emotional support water bottle. You need to be hydrating people. That's advice for me as well. ⁓ Today I wanted to talk about connection. The kind that sneaks up on you. The kind that feels like oxygen when you didn't even realize you were suffocating. For me, ⁓

That connection came recently when I finally met another person who has lived through a postpartum experience as close to mine as I've ever encountered. For years, the last three years, I thought I was the only one. And then suddenly I wasn't.

I carried my story for so long. The hemorrhage, the P-MADS, the tumor, the trauma wrapped up into bringing a child into the world while my own body was falling apart. And my mind for that matter.

And whenever I tried to explain it, people would listen and they'd care, but it never fully landed. Because unless you've been through something like that, there's just gaps that you can't fill. And I remember leaving doctor's appointments thinking, yeah, they don't get it.

Or they don't believe me. Or they are not taking me seriously. Or even talking to friends and feeling that guilt like I was constantly being a downer because I had nothing good to add to the conversation. When asked, how are you doing? I went straight to the lie. I'm fine. Because who wants to say I'm sick. I'm still sick. I'm more sick.

That part is so isolating. There's this constant explaining, kind of like trying to translate what you're going through into something that someone else might understand. That is something that every Spoonie understands. A Spoonie or a chronic health warrior or whatever you want to describe yourself as.

having to justify and explain your symptoms is exhausting.

I mean, I started Quiet Connection so that families could share and connect in ways that would mean they wouldn't have to feel that isolation. They wouldn't have to feel like they had to explain themselves. And I also had a tiny sliver of hope that I might find someone who had felt the things that I had. And after

recording with over 150 guests, I found I could relate to certain parts of almost every story being shared with me, which is huge. I think that's where connection happens. But I was never able to find that one that hit home. It was like a missing puzzle piece that I'd just given up on finding.

And I'd become mostly okay with that. And then out of nowhere, this connection through Instagram of all places. Shout out to Kathryn Of course, for the life of me, I am forgetting her username, but I will tag her in the show notes. But she posted one of those tag 10 accounts that could use some love stories.

⁓ I, I have grown to absolutely love Kathryn and she will be on the podcast early in 2026. ⁓ so yeah, check out her episode when it airs, but it was one. Yeah. It was just a story tag 10 accounts that could use some love. there was an account tagged alongside mine and I

followed. I followed all the accounts because I do that. And then I saw a post on just my regular Instagram feed that read like a page out of my own life story. Birth trauma, hemorrhage, pituitary tumor, adrenal insufficiency, medication nightmares, the feeling of complete and utter lack of control.

another person who had lived it, who didn't need me to explain the medical jargon or the fear or the way your body feels like a stranger. This person knew. They knew the exhaustion of trying to parent while fighting for your life. They knew the grief of losing the version of your body you thought you'd always have. And in that knowing, something in me broke.

but also got put together all at once. I didn't have to hold it alone anymore.

I immediately began sobbing and sent probably my most unhinged voice memo ever. Side note, I'm still learning to figure out voice memos. I do not do phone calls. Text is my love language and this millennial is coming around, but coming around slowly to the whole voice memo thing. So bear with me. But she replied.

She saw past my craziness. She not only replied, but she validated my experience. She was so incredibly kind and said the one thing I've been dying to hear for three years. I see you. You are not alone. We're in this together. I cannot overstate what that did for my nervous system to feel seen at that level.

to feel like I belonged, even in something that's so rare and so painful. It just was beyond words. It made me think about community differently. We talk about finding your people, like it has to be this big group or it has to be physically in your community. But sometimes one person is all it takes to make you feel seen in a way that you never thought possible.

And that person can come in the form of a pocket friend. One Me Too can carry you through years of inner battles. One shared story can rewrite the way you carry your own. One social media connection can change your life. It reminded me why I started Quiet Connection in the first place. Because maybe...

through this podcast and community, someone else feels that same relief, that same breath of, ⁓ my God, I'm not the only one. So if you're carrying something heavy, something that feels too rare or too specific, please don't give up on finding your puzzle piece. They are out there.

And when you do connect, it changes everything. I'll keep you updated as this connection unfolds because there are so many exciting opportunities that we're going to explore. And I don't want to give away anything about their identity before I get to know them a little better. They deserve their privacy too. But until next week, don't forget to look for the glimmers.