Last week, I mentioned the first of two rings with phrases on them that mean something special to me. The first was She believed she could, so she did. The other? You are stronger than you know.

I’m 57 years old. I think I know myself pretty well, but the past few years have taught me that I’m capable of far more than I give myself credit for. So many things I firmly believed were beyond my abilities, I’ve reclaimed. You’ve been right here with me; you know the list without me spelling it all out, again. (And if you don’t know, I invite you to read past blogs.)

I’ve had to stop and question why I believed I could no longer do those things, and I’ve discovered that it wasn’t because I wasn’t capable, but because I’d totally given up on the conviction that I was able to change myself. Failure either degrades you or makes you stronger; I chose to not let my past failures forge strength. That was a mistake. I was meant to learn from them.

It takes a willingness to deeply examine what the cause of a behavior is in order to change, and I spent a good chunk of my life letting myself believe the surface excuses instead of the painful process of healing what was wrong. It was far too easy to blame outside forces, genetics, and the luck of the draw, and then settle with what I was — dissatisfied with my health, my abilities, my existence.

Morbid obesity is often a complicated matter, especially for those of us who deal with a full deck of contributing factors. The difference, for me, was deciding that I could do something about those contributing factors instead of just letting them continue to hold my body hostage. It has been an arduous and often frustrating journey, figuring out what works for me and what doesn’t, far exceeding the number of years I have vested in my current (and I believe — permanent) journey. I spent so long treating the symptoms of my disease and convincing myself to be happy with that, that I never realized I was capable of addressing the underlying issues.

The simple name for a complicated issue is metabolic syndrome; “Metabolic syndrome is not a disease in itself. Instead, it’s a group of risk factors — high blood pressure, high blood sugar, unhealthy cholesterol levels, and abdominal fat.” (Source: WebMD: https://www.webmd.com/heart/metabolic-syndrome/metabolic-syndrome-what-is-it#1) In addition to these risk factors, I also deal with being hypothyroid. In truth, I wouldn’t even claim that hypothyroid is in addition; unhealthy cholesterol levels used to be an indicator of hypothyroid before the advent of statins. (See: https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC3109527/ )

My mistake for so many years was in accepting that this cluster of issues couldn’t be solved. If we drive a vehicle that burns oil, we know darned well that just adding oil doesn’t solve the problem; there’s something that needs to be addressed and it’s not going to fix itself just by continuing to add oil. It needs to be fixed before it gets worse. So why do we accept this for our bodies? My first step was to look at the underlying issues and attempt to address them.

That was the beginning of strength; not the patience or willingness to continue with weight loss, but rather, the desire to change what ailed me. My first real change came with fighting for a correct hypothyroid diagnosis, followed by correct dosage; for whatever reason, getting properly diagnosed with thyroid issues is far more of a fight than it should be. And just between you and me, while it didn’t magically make weight loss easier, what it did do was make it possible for me to rise out of depression. (WebMD: Hypothyroidism and Depression – https://www.webmd.com/women/guide/hypothyroidism-and-depression )

That simple decision has branched into nearly every area of my life, and improved it; I have not one single doubt about that. It took a lot longer than overnight for the changes to set in, though; I never would have had the ability or the personal strength to set myself to the same standards I hold, now, when I first started discovering my issues, then. Had I tried to suddenly take on all that I do, I would have failed; not just because I wasn’t yet strong enough, but because I was still hiding from myself.

That’s the cool thing about strength, though; it builds as you use it, once you finally decide to use it. It amplifies and becomes more than you originally imagined. It makes you stronger — harder — a fighter.

I am stronger than I know, even now, and I believe we have that ability — one small step at a time, if necessary.