WRITTEN By Chelsea c.

I spent most of my life striving to be the responsible one.

The achiever. The fixer. The girl who kept it all together—even when things felt like they were quietly unraveling underneath.

The truth is, I had a pretty traumatic childhood. And it culminated in a singular event that changed my life forever.

When I was twelve, my little brother tragically drowned in a pool. It was sudden, world-shattering for me and my family, and left a mark on me I’m truthfully still unpacking to this day. That single moment changed everything about the way I saw the world at an incredibly young and vulnerable age. I learned how fragile life was. I learned how quickly everything could fall apart.

In the years that followed, I struggled with anxiety and depression—things I didn’t fully understand at a young age and, frankly, didn’t have words for to communicate how I felt. I just know I felt heavy, lost, and overwhelmed a lot of the time. I navigated this the best I could into high school, but it wasn’t until college that I was diagnosed with clinical depression and finally started getting the help I desperately needed. I was placed on antidepressants and medication gave me a much-needed foundation, but there were still so many underlying patterns I didn’t know how to address.

I kept performing. I kept striving. I kept pretending everything was fine.

The slow unraveling

In my twenties, I began using alcohol to cope. It started socially but quickly became something I relied on to manage stress, anxiety, and emotional exhaustion. I was working in fast-paced, high-pressure jobs in a career I now know I chose because I was good at it, not because I actually wanted it. On paper, I was doing great. Internally, I felt disconnected from myself.

Like so many of us, the pandemic amplified what was already simmering under the surface. I was overworked, overwhelmed, and stuck in a cycle of numbing just to get through the week. I didn’t feel like myself anymore. I had gained weight, my energy was gone, and I knew something had to change.

That change began with a career pivot—I transitioned into the world of design, a creative space where I felt I could breathe again. It was truthfully one of the best things I’ve ever done for my nervous system. But the real turning point came after a heartbreaking and unexpected loss of a beloved family member in 2023.

My father-in-law was diagnosed with cancer a week before he passed away. We didn’t know until the autopsy was performed that it was stage 4 lung cancer. He had been a smoker all his life before switching to vaping in his later years. How quickly and suddenly his decline happened rocked our family. And it shook me awake.

I found myself asking:

What am I doing in my daily life that could shorten the amount of time I have with the people I love?

What habits are costing me my health, my energy, my joy?

The beginning of healing

I didn’t try to change everything at once. I made two simple commitments:

Eat more protein and nourish myself better
Move—consistently, even just a little

I signed up for a fitness app and started working with a trainer. Slowly but surely, things began to shift. Over the next 14 months, I lost about 45 pounds—but more importantly, I gained clarity. My relationship with alcohol started to change, too. I found myself drinking less and less until eventually… I stopped altogether.

Instead of drinking, I started learning.

I read books about trauma, about nervous system regulation, about the connection between our minds and our guts. I started syncing my lifestyle with my menstrual cycle. I filled my days with curiosity and compassion for myself—two things I had never really made space for before.

What helped me most

The most powerful choices I’ve made on this journey have been:

Quitting alcohol
Strength training
Syncing my life with my cycle

Removing alcohol gave me better sleep, clearer skin, and a calmer mind.

Moving my body—especially through strength training—gave me resilience and a sense of grounded strength I’d never felt before.

And honoring my body’s natural rhythms as a woman? That was life-changing.

Once I stopped expecting myself to be “on” 100% of the time, I started working with my body instead of against it. Now, I train harder when I’m naturally more energized and take more rest when I’m not. I’ve learned to stop shaming myself for needing recovery or slowing down. Rest is productive, too.

Why I created Hello Happy

As I healed, I couldn’t stop thinking about how little of this I’d ever been taught.

How no one ever told me how my hormones affected my energy.

How no one explained that trauma lives in the body—and that you can’t just “think” your way out of it.

How no one made it okay to ask for help, rest, or a different pace.

That’s why I created Hello Happy. Not because I’ve figured it all out—but because I haven’t, and I know I’m not alone.

I wanted to create the space I wish I’d had all along: a space for real, honest conversations about women’s wellness. A place to feel less alone, less “crazy,” and more seen.

This isn’t about perfection. It’s about permission—

To heal at your own pace.

To show up imperfectly.

To be a work in progress and still be worthy.

Where I am now

Today, I’m the happiest and healthiest I’ve ever been. I still have goals. I still have hard days. There are workouts I skip to take naps instead. Days where I give 30% and call that a win. But now, I do it all with more grace.

I listen to my body. I honor what it needs.

And most of all, I’ve stopped apologizing for being human.

If you’re on your own journey—whether you’re just beginning or starting over again—I hope Hello Happy can be a soft landing place for you.

You’re not alone. You never were.

And your story deserves space here, too.

With love,

The Story Behind Hello Happy