Purely Nutrient Black Seed Facebook ad: “Crafted From Ethiopia's Finest Black Seeds”

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Supplements & Wellness

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I'm 54 and I hadn't let my husband see me undressed in about two years. Not because of him. He's never once said a word about it. It was me. By 4pm every single day my stomach was so distended I looked pregnant, and I'd sit through dinner with one hand on it under the table like that was doing something. There's a photo from my daughter's graduation where I'm holding my cardigan closed with both hands and I remember exactly what I was thinking, which was please don't let anyone hug me. Four doctors. FOUR. Every one of them ran bloodwork, told me it came back fine, and then asked some version of "are you under a lot of stress?" The fourth one said it while looking at his screen. Didn't even turn around. I started eating dinner at 4:30 so I'd be past the worst of it by the time anyone saw me. I'm not exaggerating, I rearranged my whole life around what my stomach was doing. Here's what I'd already tried, and I added this up one night because I was so angry. $680 on three different gut reset cleanses. $400 on probiotics that did nothing. $300 on food sensitivity testing that told me I was mildly reactive to garlic. About $900 in appointments to be told I was fine. Cut bread. Cut dairy. Cut gluten. Cut onions. Cut coffee. One at a time, months apart, like a science experiment. Nothing lined up. Some days a salad set it off. Some days I ate a whole pizza and felt fine. That's the part that made me feel insane, because there was no pattern, so it had to be me. Right? The cleanses are the thing that still gets me. Because they worked. Every single one of them worked, for about two weeks. I'd feel incredible, I'd think okay this is it, I've cracked it, and then somewhere in week three it would come creeping back and I'd decide I'd fallen off or eaten something or done it wrong. I did that three separate times over four years and blamed myself three separate times. Then a woman in a group I'm in mentioned it completely offhand. She wasn't even talking to me. She said something like, that's the eggs, that's why it always comes back at two weeks. And I remember just thinking, what. So I went and read about it myself at 1am, because by that point I'd stopped asking doctors anything. And I want to lay this out the way I wish somebody had laid it out for me four years ago. They don't sit out in the open. Whatever's down there, parasites, candida, whatever word you want to use, it builds a coating around itself. A film. And that's the reason your immune system never deals with it. Your body isn't ignoring the problem. It can't find the problem. Which is also why nothing ever shows up on a test. Nobody's looking behind the film. And that is why every cleanse dies at two weeks. A cleanse kills the grown ones, which is why you feel amazing. But the eggs are sitting behind that coating the whole time, untouched, and they hatch about two weeks later and the whole thing rebuilds itself. I sat there at 1am and actually said out loud, oh my god. Because it wasn't that I'd fallen off. It was never that I'd fallen off. Three separate times I decided I was the problem, and three separate times the thing had just restocked itself. The thing that breaks down that coating is a compound called thymoquinone. It's what's in black seed oil. And this is why so many women have already tried black seed oil and will tell you it did nothing. Concentration. Almost everything on a shelf runs about half a percent thymoquinone, and at that level it isn't getting through anything. You're taking a fairly expensive cooking oil. The one I take tests at 4.64%. It's from one farm 8,000 feet up in the Ethiopian highlands, and the reason it's that strong is the plant has a brutal life up there, volcanic soil, freezing at night, burning in the day, so it makes more of the compound. At that concentration it dissolves the coating, and then it clears out the grown ones and the eggs. So there's nothing left sitting in there waiting to hatch. Two softgels before bed. That's the whole thing. It's called Purely Nutrient. First week, nothing. I want to be honest about that because everybody skips that part. I remember thinking, well, there's another $49. Second week I noticed I wasn't doing the thing with my hand under the table at dinner. I hadn't decided to stop. I just wasn't doing it. Week three is the one. Week three is where every cleanse I'd ever done fell apart. I was braced for it. I was genuinely sitting there waiting for it. It didn't come back. I can't really explain what that did to me. I'd been so sure it was me, for so long, and then the thing that always happens just didn't. Week five I wore the same pants at 8pm that I put on at 8 in the morning. First time in four years. Week six my husband put his hand on my stomach in the kitchen, completely absentmindedly, and I didn't move it. That's the one I think about. And here's what makes me genuinely furious about all of it. I spent four years being told it was stress. Four years of being asked if I'd tried relaxing. Four years of walking out of an office feeling like a hysterical middle aged woman who'd wasted a specialist's morning. And the explanation took me about forty minutes to find on my own, once somebody said the word eggs in front of me. Nobody was hiding it either. That's almost the worse part. It's just that nobody goes looking, and asking if you're stressed takes about ten seconds and ends the appointment. I'm 54. I lost four years of not wanting to be seen in my own house. So if you're the woman sitting there at 4pm with your hand on your stomach, quietly deciding it's you, it's probably not you. It wasn't me. Results vary obviously, I'm one person telling you what happened to me. And if something is genuinely wrong then that's still a doctor's job, go and be annoying about it until somebody actually listens.

Where the ad sends people

purelynutrient.com

Crafted From Ethiopia's Finest Black Seeds