Hey, friend! I’m Jen Heller, the voice and heart behind the Homes that Heal podcast. This show has been my dream for so long, and I’m so thrilled and grateful to finally hit the record button.

Today, I want to take you on a trip down memory lane. Come along as I give you a sneak peek into my childhood, my struggles with weight, an incident that has knocked me down, and the reasons behind leaving my corporate job to open a Wellness Center and Sauna Studio. All of these experiences are the inspiration behind creating this podcast.

My Biggest Fan

My mom has always been my biggest supporter. She’s there for me every step of the way, even if it means losing sleep. I owe so much of who I am to her unwavering love and support. She’s incredibly kind and generous, and I know that if she were here with me right now and I asked her to describe me, she’d do so with a beaming smile. She’d probably say that I’m a fearless, free-spirited wild child who has always marched to the beat of my drum. I’ve been seeking adventure from the minute I could walk. I even escaped from my crib before I could walk! I’ve always been determined and a bit sassy, and I’ve always had an answer for everything. This used to worry my dad quite a bit, as we’re quite similar. However, my mom always knew how to calm things down so that I could keep dreaming big and following my adventurous spirit.

My Childhood in Rhinelander

I grew up in Rhinelander, a small town in northern Wisconsin. I had a wonderful childhood. We were just an average middle-class American family, but to me, we had everything we needed. We lived in a country neighborhood just outside of town, where we spent our days playing outside, riding bikes, building forts in the woods, swimming in the nearby lake and my grandparents’ pool, and playing games like kicking the can at night. Despite being quite active, I was always a little chunky or as my grandma would say “short and stout or stocky”.

When I hit high school, I secretly struggled with my weight, but it didn’t dampen my spirits. I had a great group of friends, did well in school, played sports, and had the typical teenage experiences. In the middle of my senior year, I fell head over heels in love and moved out of my parent’s house at 18. I worked hard, saved money, enrolled in a local college to pursue a business degree, and landed an administrative job at Coca-Cola when I was 19.

My Adult Life and Discontentment

As an adult, I followed a path that many would consider successful. I got married, built a home, and earned a business degree while working at Coca-Cola. In my 20s, I gained some extra weight. I felt tired all the time, lethargic, and had trouble with my memory. I was also irritable and had difficulty sleeping, often needing sleep aids to fall asleep at night, which was frustrating for me.

My husband traveled a lot for work, leaving me home alone for days and sometimes weeks. During those times, I often felt lost and disconnected. On paper, my life was a portrait of achievement. But I couldn’t understand why I felt so empty and lost, and I didn’t know who to turn to for help. Most of my frustrations stemmed from my struggle with my weight. I was significantly overweight and deeply uncomfortable in my skin, although I did my best to hide it. Shopping for clothes was stressful, and swimsuit season was a nightmare.

Over the next few years, I tried countless weight loss plans, bought healthy cookbooks, and even invested in a treadmill. I was so exhausted from trying everything without seeing results. I’d lose 10 pounds only to gain them back, fall off the healthy eating wagon, and indulge in binge eating and drinking. It was a relentless cycle that took a toll on me. Looking back, I realize I was too hard on myself. It’s no wonder my body didn’t cooperate – I was so out of alignment and couldn’t think straight.

A Moment of Confrontation

The catalyst for change came unexpectedly, in the form of a harsh encounter with a stranger. One night, while out with a friend, I was confronted by an intoxicated guy who called me every offensive name you could think of. He kept on using the word FAT in front of every name he called me, over and over and over. He was so mad. 

Something stirred in me that I never felt before. It’s hard to describe and put into words, but I remember feeling like there was an electric current flowing through me. I was trembling inside, I could hardly control it.

I’ve never felt or experienced anything like it before. I asked myself why it affected me so deeply. The answer came to me crystal clear. I knew I was overweight and saw myself as fat. None of my friends or family had ever made fun of me or called me fat before, let alone embarrassed me in public. My inner circle never labeled me fat, but when a stranger walked in and within minutes tore me to shreds with his words, I remember thinking, if this is how the world truly sees me, I need to make some changes. I cannot go through life with this kind of shame.

That night, I made a decision and promised myself to get my life and home in order. I knew what I needed to do and had a game plan to change my life completely. And that’s what I did!

A Testament to Resilience

My story is one of self-awareness and resilience. It’s about recognizing the power within us to transform our lives, no matter the obstacles. I’ve laid bare my vulnerabilities in the hopes that my experiences can inspire and guide others on their paths to health and wellness.

In part 2, I will share how I discovered that I was loaded with heavy metals, used an infrared sauna to detox my body, and lost 125 pounds. I also regained my memory and brain function and repaired my thyroid naturally. I will also share what motivated me to quit my corporate job, let go of toxic relationships, leave my hometown, start a health coaching and sauna consulting company, and how I met the love of my life and completely transformed our home into a wellness sanctuary.

Thank you for joining me on this pilot episode. Your support means the world to me, and I can’t wait to continue this adventure with you, one episode—and one blog post—at a time.