
Adrenal fatigue? Say what? I hear you. It’s certainly nothing they ever taught me in medical school, and chances are that if you go to your doctor at Kaiser and ask to get tested for it, they’ll raise a white coat eyebrow at you.
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I'm thrilled to introduce my hero, Christiane Northrup. Dr. Northrup is a pioneer in women's health and has changed the face of the field in so many ways. She honored me this year by writing the introduction to my book, What's Up Down There? Questions You'd Only Ask Your Gynecologist If She Was Your Best Friend. Please give a warm welcome to Dr. Northrup, and enjoy this excerpt from the newly-revised edition of her groundbreaking book, Women's Bodies, Women's Wisdom (it goes without saying that I highly recommend picking up a copy!). You can read more about Dr. Northrup at the end of this post. -- Lissa
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One year ago, I had no clue how to use social media. Sure, I had 100 friends on Facebook and had vaguely heard of Twitter, but it all sounded like a total time sink. Boy, was I wrong.
What I didn't know then was that social media would not only help me get my mojo back, it would land me a publishing deal that found four houses fighting over my book, in addition to introducing me to my tribe, the people who get me and are committed to helping me achieve my dreams.

I consider my body my most trusted advisor. I think it assimilates information from the Universe that I can’t understand fully at first. You see, I know the Universe wants my best life, but sometimes I don’t heed its advice – sometimes I’m convinced I don’t even hear it.
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I just met two deadlines for two books in one week. The manuscript for What’s Up Down There?
When we started Owning Pink just over six months ago, I set a personal goal- I wanted to write books. I had already written a memoir that Barbara Poelle, my literary agent who I lovingly call Monkey Barbara, shopped around. A whole slew of editors took the book to editorial boards, where it got shot down by a whole slew of marketing departments who didn’t know how to put it in a box. The glowing rejection letters piled up.
Who’d have thunk that I’d have to study more, after twelve years of medical education? Don’t get me wrong. I knew I’d have to put in my CME hours (continuing medical education). I’d like to say I read all of my journals, but truth be told, I only read some of them, cherry picked for the articles that tickle my fancy of the day. (We do get LOTS of journals).
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