Weight Loss

My whole life I was made fun of for my weight. Even at my smallest I was made fun of. The jokes never stopped.  Even into adulthood the jokes didn’t stop. They just continued from children and adults. Here I am in my 40s still struggling with the numbers on scale. They fluctuate from year to year. I am so number obsessed that it drives people crazy. Especially my partner. 

Back in 2017 I hit my all time high. I hit almost 500 pounds. Yes, you read that right. It’s not something I normally verbalize to people. Especially this who know me in real life. Those of you who know me and read this. You probably are wondering how I got that big. Don't even believe me. It’s true.  The amount of depression and meds I was on took me to the spiral of weight gain. It was something that hit me fast and hard. Something I couldn’t control. It became a thing I ate in private and not around others. An eating disorder I once had resurfaced. No one knew that it had. If they did, they didn’t care. 

It wasn’t until my partner came around. He wasn’t my partner then. We just were friends. He saw this person who was broken. Maybe he saw this person who needed to be fixed. What he saw was a person who had beauty that needed to show. Someone who needed to eat. Talks of me taking meds and eating became a thing. Daily check-ins and here we are 10 and half years later I still check in with taking meds and eating. You may be wondering where am I going with all of this. 

Last fast forward to now. Eating is still a struggle. When I got an office job I didn’t lose any weight. I am still pushing my highest weight. I had only lost about 15 pounds maybe. I noticed a small difference. I went from a size 40/38 to a 38/36 in pants. I stayed there. I stayed there for years. I was happy with where I was. I was trying to love myself. Learning to love food and everything that came with it. It wasn’t easy. I went to therapy for my mental health. Along with so many other things. You can see some of the growth in my writings and my poetry I write. 

When my mom went into a nursing home back in 2023 my mental health changed. I learned to set boundaries. I learned to focus on me and figure out more about my likes. Learn to be ok with the boundaries I set. The weight started to fall a little bit more. Happiness set in. That was such a huge change for me. 

When I started to work at Sam’s Club in 2025 that’s when I noticed things. The pounds started to fall and my sizes began to drop. I was on my feet all day. I was dropping weight like crazy. I was back to barely eating. I would eat one meal a day if I was lucky. Then I’d eat late at night. The day would start again. The number on the scale to drop. 60 pounds later I became proud of myself and the accomplishment that I did. Not only did I lose 60 pounds I dropped down to a steady 34. The shorts I am in 32s. However I’m not in a straight 32. I wish I was. I know I will get there. 

With wins like being able to walk to my car with ease. Standing at the exit longer without my back hurting as bad. Yet the scale doesn’t move. The obsession begins again. I have to stop and think about what I am actually gaining. The strength and endurance is building but it never shows on the scale. The muscle mass that I am gaining doesn’t show either. 

It is frustrating when you step on the evil being and nothing changes. It’s frustrating when your body doesn’t want to accomplish what you want it to. I wanted to walk for 30 minutes and my body said 25. It’s hard to be ok with all of that. That is something I need to learn. Something I have to teach myself. Something I need to learn to be proud of. 

When your whole life you haven’t been made to feel proud of accomplishments it's hard to be proud of yourself. I have always been told to be better or it’s not good enough. That’s what’s the hard part of this weight loss journey. Feeling like I am good enough. I did a good job. Hearing that someone is proud of me and means it. What makes it worse is hearing not to be like others in your family. No matter how hard I try.  Those words still haunt me. I will try harder. 

I will try harder and do my best. Feeling inadequate comes flooding over me once again. On the scale I go. I want to prove to someone I can do this. Just for the numbers to yell back at me. That I failed once again. I have to remember in all of this, that the number doesn’t define me. The numbers I see do not define me. Not the numbers on the treadmill.  Not the numbers on the leg presses. It doesn’t matter. What matters is that I am trying. I am trying to be better. Not only for me but for my daughter and my partner. 

During all of this my partner has been amazing. He encourages me daily. He reminds me that the weight I carry and the numbers on the scale don’t matter. For they do not tell the truth. They are lies that society wants to believe. That is what they consider beautiful or not. He reminds me daily that he is proud of me. He watches me try everyday. That makes him proud. Not for the accomplishments I do. Just for trying and getting out of bed. Some days getting out of bed is the accomplishment.