Meet Your Online Health Coach Arietta Rosemont

From Breakdown to Breakthrough: My Health Journey Outside the System

There are so many things in life we can’t control.

The rising cost of everything. Chemicals in our food. Polluted air. But for me, the hardest thing to accept is the broken healthcare system. Something that’s supposed to help us, but so often leaves us worse off.

I used to think this was just how it had to be. That feeling tired, stressed, and sick was part of adulting. That maybe I wasn’t trying hard enough, or if I just wasn’t strong enough. But the truth is, the system is built to keep people like me stuck. And I stayed stuck for a long time… until I found a way out.

Five years ago, I was a full-time nursing assistant. I had two young kids, and as a single mother, I was doing everything I could to make ends meet. We had a roof over our heads, food on the table, and I had health insurance. But even then, I felt like I was barely surviving.

Then my son broke his leg while playing at the park. He fell hard, and I’ll never forget the sound of his scream. We rushed to the ER. He needed X-rays, a cast, and follow-up appointments. When the bills came flooding in, thousands of dollars, I couldn’t believe it. I had insurance, but it barely paid for anything.

That was the first time I thought, ‘Why am I even paying for insurance if it doesn’t help me when I need it?’

Not long after, I became unexpectedly sick. At first, it was just exhaustion and stomach pain. I thought the long hours of working and taking care of my children were catching up to me, but I pushed through it because I didn’t have a choice. I needed to work to keep my insurance and support my family, especially in case my kids got hurt again. But the pain got worse. I couldn’t eat without feeling sick, and I started losing weight. I kept going to the doctor for tests, just trying to get answers.

And the bills kept coming.

Deductibles. Copays. Tests that weren’t covered.

I started falling behind on rent, groceries, and even school clothes for the kids. I was drowning in debt. Then I missed too many shifts and ended up losing my job.

Just like that, my only safety net disappeared.

No job, no insurance. And still millions in debt.

It got to the point that I was so sick that I could barely get out of bed some days and had to ask close friends to help watch my kids. I tried applying for state programs, but they were too slow, and I assume my condition wasn’t considered “urgent enough.” I felt like I was screaming into a void and no one was listening. I remember lying awake at night, staring at the ceiling, wondering how I was going to take care of my kids and dig myself out of this hole I found us in. I couldn’t afford to be sick. I couldn’t afford anything.

When I finally scraped together enough to see a specialist, I was told something I’ll never forget: “It’s a good thing you came in. If we had waited much longer, this could’ve turned into something much worse.”

I nodded. I smiled. I thanked them. And then I went out to my car and cried my heart out against my steering wheel. I cried because I was terrified. I cried because I was exhausted. I cried because I felt so alone.

I owed over $20,000 in medical debt. It didn’t matter that I had been working so hard all this time. It didn’t matter that I had paid into the system for years. I was still left out in the cold when I needed help. That kind of stress and reality changes you. It makes you numb. It makes you doubt yourself. It makes you feel like you failed your kids.

I stopped answering the phone because I couldn’t face another call from a debt collector. I couldn’t face the fear in my kids’ eyes when I told them we couldn’t afford simple things like shoes or snacks for school. I tried to stay strong, but the truth is, I was breaking.

Then, one night, scrolling through my Facebook in the dark, I came across a post about something called health sharing. I’d never heard of it before, but it wasn’t an insurance. It was a group of people who came together to share medical costs. Real people who help each other. No networks. No huge premiums. Just a system built on trust and support.

It sounded too good to be true, but I was desperate to find some kind of health coverage, and anything through the marketplace was too expensive for the little bit of money I had. I couldn’t bear the thought of more medical bills pilling up. I kept reading, digging into reviews to figure out which health sharing program was the best, and eventually joined one for around $300 a month.

I didn’t know it then, but that one decision would change everything.

From the very first phone call, I felt something I hadn’t felt in a long time. Hope.

The person I spoke to actually listened to me. They explained things in a way that made sense. They didn’t rush me or talk down to me. They helped me find doctors. They helped me understand how to submit my bills. And when I needed help paying my medical bills, they were there.

Slowly, I started to breathe again.

I got the care I needed without sinking further into debt. I wasn’t afraid to go to the doctor anymore. I wasn’t terrified of every envelope in the mailbox. I could finally focus on healing my body, my mind, and my life.

With time, I started changing how I lived. I began eating better, not because some fancy plan told me to, but because I wanted to feel good again. Finding a health share opened my mind to different ways to take care of my health instead of what we’ve been conditioned to believe all this time. I cut out the processed junk. I started learning about natural healing, vitamins, and how to support my body. I went on walks with my kids. We laughed again. I felt like me again.