Have you ever heard of PCOS? No, it is not hot, new slang, but an abnormality of the ovaries — it stands for polycystic ovary syndrome. If you have PCOS, It means that you have irregular or no periods. This makes it difficult to get pregnant naturally, or to get pregnant at all. It is such a situation in which you think, that would never happen to me. We, as humans, tend to think that strange or unpleasant situations always happen far from our lives, and I always thought the same way. I thought I was so called ‘normal’ until I was diagnosed with PCOS.  When you have never had to think about having a ‘normal’ working body all your life, it is strange to suddenly realize that something in your body is not working properly. 

“I still want to be able to travel freely, to book a one-way trip to anywhere in the world with no strings attached to home. These are the dreams of a twenty-something without worries.”

The day I found out that I had PCOS, I didn't necessarily think about the consequences of the diagnosis, but I learned about them not long after. I now suffer from hormonal abnormalities, which suddenly resulted in acne on my face. You can bet I now appreciate the clear skin I'd always had that I no longer have. I also have to watch my diet as well because I’m now more likely to develop mood swings, gain weight and experience higher stress levels. In order to control my hormones, I’ve had to adjust to a better lifestyle with healthier food. Among these changes and adaptations, the biggest and most impactful consequence of PCOS is that I now have to prioritize having children, if I want to, of course. “Certainly not older than 30,” the doctor said. The most important point for me is the choice to start the process of having children. I have to consider, for myself, when the right time will be, especially in my situation. From the age of 30, the fertility of a healthy woman starts to decline. O dear, I turned 27 this year, so 30 is right around the corner! I also take into consideration that my ovaries are basically shit because of PCOS, so I seem to be hit with a double-negative in this case. 

I have so many dreams and ambitions that I want to fulfill before I start having a family. Some of those ambitions are working on my social media management business, focusing on creating content for my travel blog, full-time, and starting investments in Ghana. I will be turning 30 in three years, so that would mean that my time is running out when it comes to being successful in realizing those ambitions. I still want to be able to travel freely, to book a one-way trip to anywhere in the world with no strings attached to home. These are the dreams of a twenty-something without worries. They are the dreams of a person who doesn't care about ovaries with an expiration date. 

“If I fail to fulfill my full ambitions within three years, I believe my path to happiness may have a different route. The end station is the same.”

Forcing upon myself a time limit of three years to realize my dreams creates uncomfortable pressure. I wonder, is three years not too short? What if I can’t fulfill my dreams and ambitions in those three years? Do I have to start with children just because otherwise it might never happen? What if I can never have children? What would my life look like then? These are questions I don't have the answer to right now. Even though I accept that I have to live with PCOS, I understand that whatever happens comes at the right time, with or without children. Everything happens for a reason. That thought gives me comfort. 

What I do have a clear though on, though, is that I don't want PCOS affecting my life more than it already does. Having PCOS has diminished my sense of freedom, which is the feeling I believe a person in their twenties should have. After all, the world is my oyster, right?

I believe the world is definitely my big beautiful oyster, even with PCOS. I am the maker of my own happiness. If I fail to fulfill my full ambitions within three years, I believe my path to happiness may have a different route. The end station is the same. Anyway, although you can't see it from the outside, and my body may be slightly different on the inside, I am still the same person: Charlee, in her twenties with big dreams en route to a beautiful destination and carrying her shitty ovaries, unwillingly, but happily with her.