– What I thought was “healthy” almost led me down a path I never imagined.
For most of my life, I believed I was doing everything right.
I was always active—never the kind of person who sat still for too long. Even when I was juggling the roles of a CEO in a small business and a mother of two young children, I tried to stay on top of my health. Sure, I sacrificed sleep. Exercise often took the backseat during those intense years when I shuttled frequently between Shanghai and Japan. But I still made time on weekends to play with my kids in the park, to laugh and move and be present.
My cholesterol had been a little high but within “normal” range—especially LDL. For years, my doctors told me the same thing: “Eat less fat, get more exercise.” I took that seriously. I cut out meat, ate a lot of vegetables, avoided processed foods, and rarely ever overate. My weight had been stable for decades. I looked slender and fit. People often said I looked younger than my age.
So, I thought I was in good shape.
I truly believed I had done everything I could to maintain good health.
Until May 2022.
That’s when a routine blood test delivered a result I never saw coming.
Prediabetes.
At first, I thought there had been a mistake. I was furious. I was frightened. I had always associated diabetes with inactivity, with poor eating habits. My sister had diabetes—but she was overweight and didn’t exercise nearly as much as I did. I thought I was eating better. Living healthier. How could we end up with the same diagnosis?
And then I thought of my mother.
She developed dementia later in life, and watching her fade into someone unrecognizable shook me to my core. I couldn’t stand the thought that this result might be a warning sign—of something deeper, something irreversible.
I felt betrayed by my body.
That day in May was my wake-up call.
And it changed the trajectory of my life.
It led me to question everything I thought I knew about health.
It led me to research, to ask hard questions, to test new approaches.
It eventually led me to build something that I wish had existed for me.
This isn’t just a story about one test result.
It’s a story about what happens when we stop accepting the bare minimum advice and start demanding better—not just for ourselves, but for every woman who’s been told “you’re fine” when something deeper is going on.
If you’ve ever felt confused, dismissed, or frustrated by your health journey—
I see you.
And I hope my story helps you feel less alone.
