Hi, my name is Hannah. I’m 25 years old, and a former British swimmer and modern pentathlete. For most of my life, sport was my identity, until debilitating health symptoms during the pandemic changed everything.
After a colonoscopy, I was misdiagnosed with IBS and given little support beyond advice to change my diet. I was young and didn’t yet know how to advocate for myself, so I tried to manage the pain alone. Over time, food became the enemy, and this spiralled into an eating disorder that deeply damaged my relationship with my body. As the years passed without answers, I slowly lost parts of myself. I blamed myself for the pain, resented my body for failing me, and watched my early twenties disappear in a blur of exhaustion, isolation, and survival.
Eventually, after years of fighting to be heard, I underwent surgery and was finally diagnosed with endometriosis. Before then, I had repeatedly been told my symptoms were “just PMS” or IBS, and that surgery would be a “waste of time and money”.
Even after my diagnosis, I was sent home without support, guidance, or follow-up care. Everything I know about endometriosis, I have had to learn for myself. That is why I decided to fundraise for Endometriosis UK.
After surgery, I was unable to exercise properly for six months. So being able to swim these distances now means far more to me than simply completing a challenge. It represents resilience, reclaiming my body, and rebuilding the identity I lost for so many years. This challenge was not only about raising money. It is about raising awareness of the reality faced by those fighting for answers and learning to trust their bodies again.
You took on your own swimming challenge this Endometriosis Action Month – thank you so much! Why did you choose swimming for this fundraising challenge?
Swimming has always been a huge part of who I am. I grew up competing in British Swimming, spending four hours a day in the pool and waking up at 5am most mornings to train. My childhood was shaped by early starts, weekends spent travelling the country for competitions, and the discipline and identity that came with being an athlete. But for a long time, that version of me felt very far away.
As my endometriosis symptoms worsened and my life became consumed by pain, exhaustion, and the endless fight for answers, I lost my connection to the sport and, in many ways, to myself. So choosing swimming for this challenge felt deeply symbolic. It was a way of returning to my roots and reconnecting with the girl I used to be before years of pain and grief changed everything.
Receiving my diagnosis gave me the confidence to begin rebuilding that relationship with my body again. Getting back into the pool reminded me that although endometriosis has taken a lot from me, it hasn’t taken everything. In many ways, this challenge felt like reclaiming a part of myself I thought I had lost forever.
Do you have any words of encouragement for those taking on our Swim for Endo challenge this May?
Absolutely! There were some very difficult moments throughout my challenge. I ended up swimming 75km over the month, which meant hours on end in the pool battling the cold, the chlorine, and the constant goggle readjustments. It took a lot of discipline, but what kept me going was always coming back to my why.
Why was I doing this? For the girl I used to be. For the woman I am becoming. For the girl in pain, crying on her bedroom floor, desperate for answers. And for the millions of others still battling their own health journeys, while navigating a healthcare system that too often dismisses or delays their suffering. My diagnosis didn’t solve my pain overnight, but it gave me something I had been missing for years: answers. Understanding what was happening in my body helped me stop panicking every time the pain returned, quiet the intrusive thoughts and health anxiety, and finally stop blaming myself. It gave me the confidence to begin healing physically, mentally, and emotionally.
What I’ve come to realise is that an earlier diagnosis could have spared me years of grief, confusion, and trauma. If, through raising awareness and funds for Endometriosis UK, I can play even a small part in improving diagnosis times and treatment and care for others, I will be incredibly grateful.
So, if you’re taking on this challenge, my biggest piece of encouragement is this: remember your why. Who are you doing this for? What are you hoping to change? Hold onto that in the difficult moments, and let it carry you forward.
Most of all, be proud of yourself for showing up, for your strength, your compassion, and your willingness to make a difference. And finally… just keep swimming ;)
Any final thoughts you’d like to share with the community?
Endometriosis can be incredibly isolating, and it can impact every part of your life, physically, mentally, and emotionally, and there are so many moments where you can begin to lose trust in your own body and yourself. But if there is one thing I’ve learned through my journey, it’s the importance finding ways to reconnect with my body through compassion rather than punishment. Exercise doesn’t “cure” endometriosis, but rebuilding strength and confidence in your body can be incredibly empowering.
To others with endometriosis, you are not weak for struggling. You are navigating something that can be incredibly difficult every single day, and that deserves far more recognition and support than it currently receives.
If sharing my story helps even one person feel less alone, then this challenge has meant something far greater than the miles I swam.
