I made myself a promise, years ago, that I’m gonna break today.

That promise? That I would not post progress pics until I had lost all my weight. Admittedly, I have (as of today) another 18 pounds to go before reaching the point where I will evaluate my health markers and adjust if needed. I am not yet at the low I reached last fall, but I’m getting closer each day.

Don’t get me wrong: my reasons for going ahead and posting a progress pic are entirely self-serving. I realized, last night while talking to my husband, that not only had I not taken a comparison pic for over two years, but I hadn’t even looked at my beginning pics for that long, either. Before our morning walk, yesterday, I had him take a few photos. And yep, you see the full before and after photos below. That’s my walking gear I’ve got on, minus the flip flops. 😉 (And yes. It’s terrifying for me to have so many people — friends and strangers — scrutinizing my body. Look, I’m lumpy. Go easy on me.)

It’s been danged near 7 years since I took that first photo. I felt horrible and I was honestly scared for my life. I know I have some new readers today; I’ll tell you that I had absolutely no faith whatsoever that I’d be successful on this journey. I just went on faith, faked it until I made it. Heck, I have failed every single time I have tried to get my weight under control, and didn’t think this time would be any different. But I took it in small increments. I decided I had better do the head work I always knew was needed. Every single time I have failed a diet, I have come off of it by punishing myself with a blazing return to bad habits. And really, if we fail, that’s the worst possible thing we can do, because it changes nothing.

When I looked at that “before” photo, last night, I realized I had tucked that person away as a distant memory. I am still that person, but then, I’m not. Not really. It’s important on this mental journey I’m on to remind myself of where I’ve been, both as a cautionary tale and to understand the true magnitude of the gift I gave myself the day I decided to simply try one more time.

I know it’s hard for some to understand why I say I’m not proud of my weight loss. I am, on a small level, but I know the mental pitfalls of using weight loss as a personal identification; now, to me, identifying myself as a weight loss success story is no better than being the fattest person in the room. I had opted not to post progress pics for that simple reason: I am not defined by weight loss. I am so very much more than that. If that’s what you see, you don’t see me as a total person.

But at the same time, it’s a facet of the total diamond. Waging this war has made me stronger than I have ever been in my entire 58 years, so today, I’m choosing to post those danged photos, knowing full well that I will need to battle any mental fallout by doing so. Because it is a risk. There is judgment. But there’s also the lesson that both those photos are of me, and by golly, if there’s something to learn by putting myself out there, I intend to learn it so I can move on. I have shown such photos in relatively safe environments, but today, I’m putting it out there for the world. If you understand the work that went into getting my brain and body to this point, then you can start to understand a bit about me.

I’m not perfect. I’m not at the end of my journey. I will, by my own admission, thankfully never be at the end of this journey; only move through phases as I continue to learn more about myself and solve each challenge as it comes. I’m nearing the end of the weight loss phase and easing into the next as I adjust to those health markers. I now feel that I have the tools I need to face whatever comes, and I have never been able to say that, before.

That first photo was of the me that was desperate for change. I knew full well, from previous successes and failures, exactly how much hard work was ahead of me. I feared that and regretted all those previous failures. But the thing I regretted, most of all, was handicapping myself and becoming a burden to my loved ones, possibly even dying. That’s a hard conversation to have with yourself, and I did, usually at 3 am, feeling my heart pound too hard in my body, wishing I hadn’t done this to myself. Because I had done this to myself, and that’s a really hard thing to come to terms with. I took the photos with the tiniest hope that better photos would follow.

But with it also comes the necessity of decision: do you keep hurting yourself, or do you step forward, even an inch, with purpose? I knew that if I made even a little effort, I would feel better about myself, so that’s what I did. And never did I ever foresee the day when I would be here, in the midst of a pandemic and all the problems this country is facing that have pelted my brain, posting a before/after and claiming that I have learned so many lessons I fully needed to learn.

That’s why, friends. I’m not here for the praise that I know will inevitably come. Rather, I’m here to claim that part of myself that has made the rest possible. If I had not taken the mental journey, the physical one would have fallen flat. I ask you not to look at the photos for weight loss, although I know that’s hard. Instead, this is the side effect of proving to myself that I am worthy, capable, and willing to face a life that I have earned through incredibly hard work. That’s the true victory as I ease on down this road I’ve built for myself.

PS: I ask that these photos not be shared or used without my consent.