On weight loss, regain, and learning to live in the middle
I’ve done a lot of thinking about my original weight loss journey and the weight I’ve since regained.
While I wouldn’t consider it a complete failure, it sure wasn’t a total success either. After losing 118 pounds… I gained back about 90 of them over the course of four years.
But it wasn’t a total failure for two key reasons.
First, the obvious: I didn’t gain all of it back. In September 2017, I made the decision to get back on track — and I’ve been slowly losing the weight again. It feels good. It feels like I’m in control of my life again, and I needed that. I’m succeeding again, and I love it.
Second, and maybe more importantly: the internal transformation I went through never fully disappeared. Back in 2012 and 2013, when I first lost the weight, I finally started to discover who I was — and what I was capable of. I had never felt more confident, both in my appearance and in my spirit. I realized I was stronger than I ever knew. My body could do things I never thought it could do. As the weight fell off, something inside me was uncovered too — a girl with a voice, a girl who could stand up for herself. A girl who could run, even if it was slow. A girl who could wish, hope, and make things happen. I found a version of myself that had always existed underneath the weight and the low self-esteem. And for those reasons alone, that journey was an incredible success — maybe more so on the inside than the out.
But after I had my son, the weight started coming back — and so did the old habits. I found myself retreating into the shell I had once broken out of. The confidence I worked so hard to find began to fade. My anxiety, obsession, and depression surged. I felt the control slipping out of my hands again. I started to scowl at the mirror the same way I used to.
That’s when I knew something had to change.
In September, I made the decision to reclaim that sense of control and self-love — not just for my appearance, but for my confidence. The version of myself I had fought to become deserved a second chance.
As I looked back on what went wrong, I uncovered the biggest issue: perfectionism.
I had dropped the weight fast — too fast. I didn’t know it at the time, but that kind of perfection wasn’t sustainable. I logged every single bite in MyFitnessPal and stayed under calories nearly all the time. I exercised six days a week. I threw my entire life into losing weight and getting fit. I had a 1,000+ day logging streak and prioritized that app over real life. I skipped parties. Avoided family dinners. I missed out on living because I didn’t want to be tempted by food.
And it worked — for a while. But then my son was born. My priorities shifted. And honestly, I burned out. I couldn’t keep up the obsession. I couldn’t stay perfect forever.
This time, I’m doing it differently.
I still want to lose weight. I still want to feel better in my body. But I’ve learned that slow and steady is not just wiser — it’s necessary. There are days I get impatient. I still have moments where I hate how I look. But I know now that this isn’t just about looking different — it’s about feeling strong and staying sane.
So I’ve chosen to be good instead of perfect.
That means:
- Logging my food, but not obsessing over every bite
- Estimating when I need to
- Missing a day here or there
- Going over calories sometimes without spiraling into guilt
- Losing half a pound a week instead of five
- Working out, but not to the point of exhaustion
- Giving myself grace if I gain a pound or two
Because perfection didn’t last — but good just might.
The truth is, I will likely struggle with food, fitness, and weight for the rest of my life. Being overweight is partly genetic, partly behavioral — and deeply emotional. Maybe I am destined to carry extra weight. But I am not destined to hate myself.
I have the power to change the narrative.
I have the choice to rewrite what it means to live in this body.
And I’ve learned that in a lifelong journey, perfection is a trap. It’s not sustainable. It’s not kind. And it’s not required.
So this time, I’m choosing what is.
I’ll give it everything I have — but some days, all I have is simply good. And that’s enough.
It has to be.
Because this journey — and life — will always be filled with slips and setbacks.
The real strength isn’t in avoiding them.
It’s in refusing to stay down.
Some days, I’ll stay on track. Some days, I’ll fall short.
But I will keep going.
It’s all about balance.
It’s eating cake when you want to — just not the whole thing.
It’s holding yourself accountable — but not missing out on life.
It’s fighting temptation — but not punishing yourself when you lose.
It’s doing the right thing — and learning to forgive yourself when you don’t.
Because sometimes? You just want to live.
And it turns out, you can be good without being perfect.
Honestly? I’d rather be good.
Good is flexible.
Good is forgiving.
Good makes space for birthdays and cravings and tired days when you skip the gym.
Good gets back up.
Good lasts.
And after everything I’ve learned, I’ll take good over perfect any day.
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