About Lankaya · Raw vegan coach & fruitarian mom
Hi mama, I'm Lankaya
Pronounced LAN-K-yuh. Also known as L C.
I was a mama living in postpartum depression and thick brain fog, with severe short-term memory loss, terrifying thoughts I could not trust, and a seizure after eating cooked food, until living fruit, and one coconut water, brought me back. And I never went back.
I began in my early 20s. Now, at 33, I'm a stay-at-home mother raising my 4-year-old daughter fruitarian, and I look back on the journey with gratitude.
My story
First, there was the light
Before the darkness, there was a pregnancy I still marvel at. I ate mostly fruit, and my body carried my daughter lightly. There was no long labor waiting for me at the end of it. No swollen feet. No nausea rolling over my days. I could move. I could exercise. I could walk. And when her time came, the delivery was quick and my recovery was easy. That was fruit. That was my first proof, written in my own body.
And I learned the contrast early: when cooked food and salt came in, the nausea came with them. The swelling came. The headaches came.
The black hole
Then my world went dark
After my daughter was born, everything I had been spared came for me at once. A concussion. Postpartum depression settling over me like weather I could not get out of. A brain fog so thick I could feel it standing between me and everything I loved. My short-term memory began to fail me in my own home, in ways that frightened me.
I was a new mother. And I was disappearing.
The bridge
I was pushing my daughter in her stroller across a bridge, an ordinary walk on an ordinary day, when a thought moved through me that did not feel like it belonged to me. My stomach dropped. I turned that stroller around and sprinted home, holding on to my baby and holding on to myself.
I did what a mother is told to do. I called my doctor, and I was given an appointment months away. Months. I hung up with a baby in my arms and a mind I could not trust.
At home, it deepened. In the car, with my daughter behind me, I would catch myself reaching for something as if my hands had forgotten the wheel. Once, I almost let go of that wheel with the car moving. Almost is the thin line I was living on.
I was not going to die and leave my daughter motherless. That was my why. And my why was bigger than the fog.
The other side
Seven days of raspberries, and one coconut
So I went looking for my own way back. For one whole week, I ate nothing but raspberries, and the stubbornness of a mother who refused to be taken from her child.
Then came the day that drew a line through my life. I was cooking dhalpuri for my partner, and I tasted it: cooked food, after a week of only raspberries. My body answered with a seizure. My partner handed me a coconut water. I drank, my body released the cooked food, and the relief was instant. Zero to one hundred.
That coconut water saved me. I never went back to cooked food.
Knowledge is my superpower
Self-taught, on purpose
Dr. Yahki's videos taught me how the human body works with living food, and knowledge did for me what an appointment months away could not. My path also includes Priest Kailash (my mother sent me his work, and I read all his books), Dr. Llaila O. Afrika and Aris Latham, along with social media educators Chaka Bars and Surviving Vegan. I self-studied anatomy at the library, starting in the children's section for the basic terms, and I went to the Texas Fruit Festival to question long-term fruitarians about their experiences.
When I was in the black hole, nobody rushed in. The moment I started getting healthy, everybody got concerned. So I asked one question: why would I take health advice from someone who does not have the health I want?
Let your health speak for itself. Trust me, the grass is greener on the other side.
My mission
To awaken conscious motherhood
I am a mother, fruitarian, raw vegan coach, teacher and lifelong student, devoted to intentional motherhood and the power of a woman to transform herself. I help depleted mothers become empowered women.
Nourish ♡ Heal ♡ Rebirth
Grab your pen and keep writing your own story. It is not over.