My Fitness Journey: From Chasing Thinness to Loving Me

Back in 2016, I began my fitness journey, but let’s say rainbows, self-love, or kale smoothies didn’t inspire it. I was fueled by the need to fit in, spite, heartbreak, and the relentless voice of an ex who had spent years playing “Whack-a-Mole” with my self-esteem. They'd have taken home gold if there was an Olympic event for verbal digs. The more they tore me down about my weight, how I wasn't worthy of anyone else, my body, my looks, etc, the more I turned to food for comfort. It was a vicious cycle of hurt, eat, repeat.

When the relationship ended, I wasn’t just broken, I felt shattered. I thought the way to piece myself back together was by becoming as thin as possible because, according to society, only thin people are worthy of love and basic decency, right? (Spoiler alert: wrong.)

Enter: Spite Gym Queen Era

Before my divorce, I had started working out, thinking it would keep my man happy, eventually. I dropped 100 pounds and got the green light for weight loss surgery, but right after my surgery, my ex and I split up, and so began my full transformation. My mission in life was to show my ex what they’d lost and become the kind of woman who gets slow-motion entrances set to Lizzo songs. I worked my butt off, fueled by a mix of tears, sheer willpower, and the belief that thinness was my redemption ticket. The surgery, coupled with intense food deprivation and a crazy two-a-day workout schedule, helped me shed another 100+ pounds, and soon, I was living in what I thought was my “Cool for the Summer” era. I was thinner, turning heads at the club, and finally fitting into clothes I used to avoid like the plague. But plot twist: I still hated the woman staring back at me in the mirror.

Me at my smallest. 187lbs

When Thinness Isn’t the Answer

It turns out, that achieving the “pinnacle of beauty” doesn’t come with confetti, internal peace, or even health. Yes, I was thin, but my hair was falling out, my thyroid was waving red flags, and I had a side hustle called bulimia. We aren’t even going to talk about how crazy my hormones were. But hey, at least I was thin, right?

"Why do I compare myself to everyone? And I always got my finger on the self-destruct." (Thank you, Demi, for summing that up so perfectly.) Inside, I felt empty like I was still chasing something I’d never find. Society had lied to me, thinness didn’t equal happiness. I didn’t feel beautiful, healthy, or whole. I was exhausted from trying to fit into a mold that wasn’t made for me.

Picking Up the Pieces

Something had to give and I decided it was time to stop living for other people’s approval and start living for me. First, I broke up with my “certified cardio queen” persona (we had a good run) and took a chance on weightlifting even though everyone warned me it would make me “look manly.” Spoiler alert: It didn’t. Instead, lifting made me feel strong, powerful, and badass.

I started eating food I liked again, and without guilt (because tacos deserve love too). I saw a therapist who helped me unpack years of abuse and societal brainwashing. Slowly, I began rebuilding myself, not as the woman society expected me to be, but as the woman I wanted to be.

Gaining Weight, Gaining Confidence

As I healed, I gained back some weight, but guess I also gained so much more. I gained self-love, confidence, and a body I enjoy living in. I stopped chasing the impossible standards of a Photoshop-loving society and started loving me. “I wonder when I love me is enough?” Spoiler: It is. The gym is no longer a place I punish my body; it’s where I celebrate it. Whether I’m lifting heavy or just dancing my ass off to my playlist (if you see my gym vids you know this), I feel stronger and more in control of my life.

The Moral of the Story

My journey wasn’t about getting thin, it was about finding myself. I had to lose the weight of other people’s opinions to discover my worth. Health isn’t a size, and happiness doesn’t come from a scale. It comes from being unapologetically you, and anyone out there feeling unworthy or stuck in the trap of trying to be “enough” for someone else, let me tell you this: You are already enough. Your body, your story, and your strength are yours to celebrate. And if anyone doesn’t see that? “I’m a ten out of ten, even when I forget!” Keep moving, keep lifting, and keep loving yourself, because you’re worth it. 💪