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Questions & Answers

Mar2

 

Spring is here, people! And I’ve been busy enough that I was totally stumped on what to write, so I’m answering questions that were posed to me. If you have a question, send it to me and I might answer it in a future blog! On a side note, I’m now 164 pounds down.

What do you do when giving up isn’t an option?

I’m big on mental processes, because I truly believe that changing my mind has changed my body and improved my chances of success. But that doesn’t mean I’m cruising along on all cylinders at all times. There have been times when I’ve been absolutely frustrated with my (lack of) progress and wanted to just throw in the towel. That time wasn’t all that long ago, when I was told I’d need to lose more weight to qualify for knee surgery. I reacted quite emotionally and took it as a slap in the face for all the hard work I’d done.

At that time, I was frustrated because I thought my options were limited and that I was honestly doing everything I could possibly do. When I asked the right questions (mainly, would you please help me?) and got answers I hadn’t considered, before, I committed myself to exploring those other options, and found the strength to give a few key changes a try. It worked. But even if it hadn’t worked, it reminded me that there are always other options available. We just have to choose whether or not they are feasible for us.

For me personally, weight loss is a side effect of my efforts to improve my health, both physically and mentally. Unfortunately, my actual weight mattered at that particular moment. While my weight may have stagnated for a bit, I knew that I was getting stronger and improving, so having medical professionals say those changes weren’t good enough was — well — I said a lot of angry, bad, creative words.

I’ve lost almost as much as this baby elephant weighs — and we have the same skin!

In that case, my options were to either accept that I was going to stay at a relative weight that wasn’t low enough to consider knee surgery, and face the very real prospect that I would continue to deal with severe and debilitating arthritis, or push even harder to get to the goal I’d set to achieve: knee replacement surgery. At that point, I knew that I’d already given up once after losing 140 pounds. I’d already beat that number. Was I really going to even consider giving up, again? This close?

Obviously, the answer was no, I’m not giving up. I had to remind myself of previous failures, the biggest being having achieved so many years ago and then letting it slip through my fingers.

To do that, I had to firmly get out of my head, of what I was feeling in the moment. I had to have my own personal come-to-Jesus discussion with myself and accept that even if I had to change what I was doing even further, it was a far better thing to try harder than to let myself down without the attempt.

I think that’s a bit easier to do when you’re facing a medical issue that determines an outcome. It’s much easier, when there’s not much on the line, to let that determination slip down a notch, and then, perhaps, risk letting it slip away altogether. We convince ourselves of things that are rewards in this moment. And that’s where the trouble begins.

I’ve always believed that every single day is The First Day. That every meal choice is The First Meal Choice. That the way you get through a day, a week, a month, a year, is by each small choice you make along the way. But in moments when I feel like I’m weak, understanding that cumulative effect and how many small choices went into a total 164 pound loss is a landmark reminder that making one more choice to remain strong will help me push those numbers a bit more.

Will you have excess skin removed?

Right at this moment, I’d say no, unless it becomes a medical issue in some way. I may change my mind the closer I get to a manageable maintenance weight.

For a while, I considered it. I watched a show on YouTube that featured people like me: folks that had lost great amounts of weight and ended up with excess skin. Some went through as many as three or four surgeries, removing 30 or more pounds of excess skin.

Their changes were pretty miraculous, but I took a few things away from the show, itself. One was that all of those folks were at least 20 years younger than I am, and when it comes to recovery, that does make a difference.

The other was much more important, though. It might have been a construct of the show itself, scripting what the men and women said, but just about all of them said one thing that bothered me: that they saw the excess skin as being as bad (or worse!) than having the actual weight.

While I’m not close enough to a goal, yet, to consider surgery, I would never trade away the immense changes I’ve made weight-wise because I don’t like my skin. While it’s certainly a personal choice, I can’t imagine a world where I’d rather foist all the conditions I suffered from on my body, again, because my skin looked better filled out with fat. I’m sorry — that’s totally ridiculous.

At this point, where I’m just as vain as the next person and I’m not a big fan of skin more wrinkly than an elephant’s trunk, my excess skin is also a reminder of where I’ve been and what got me here, which are important lessons to carry with me for the rest of my life.

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That’s all for this week. If you have questions, please ask; I might feature them in a future blog when I have nothing else to write about, like this week!

 

I Won’t Compromise

Feb23

 

Once again, I’m pleased to note a loss. A girl could seriously get used to this.

It’s easy to feel good about weight loss efforts when they’re going well. It’s invigorating to see changes. I’m seeing them in other places than just the scale; my size has shifted enough that I’ve needed to take corrective action. Otherwise known as a belt, so the world doesn’t see my pants fall down around my ankles. The only belt I could find, since I don’t normally wear one, had to be cinched to the smallest notch.

I’ve lost the equivalent of an adult alpaca — without the attitude.

It’s when nothing changes that times get tough, that doubt creeps in. I’ve been there. I may very well be there, again. After all, the road I’ve taken is hardly flat and straight; it’s more like an abused mountain road with dips and switchbacks, and plenty of potholes.

The closer I get to each goal, though, my resolve has strengthened. While there’s still at least another year or two for me to keep at the good fight, I know more certainly than ever that I’m finally going to reach my goals. All of them.

That sort of confidence has been hard won, and the battles are far from over. The shape of what my life will eventually look like is starting to emerge from the fog. That shape is already within me. I already know how to be that person — because I already am that person.

I used to think that some undefined change would still have to take place for me to be truly successful at getting healthier and improving my whole being, and I was stumped, because I had no idea how to go about changing. You have to know what to change to, after all. I was wrong about that; what it has taken has been a commitment to shaving off the excess — not just weight, but the mental crutches that no longer serve me.

It’s an emergence; a shedding.

It’s both a willingness to recognize when change is needed — and an unwillingness to compromise and risk the dream. Every step, even missteps, are in the right direction if I understand both the successes and the failures.

 

Imposter

Feb16

 

I am amazed to report that I’ve now lost 161 pounds. In the last couple of weeks, my loss shifted into high gear. While I’m more than happy to ride this particular wave for as long as it lasts, this shift back toward changing my body has brought up some interesting issues.

I wouldn’t say I was necessarily comfortable sitting at my last plateau, and I’m certainly glad it’s in my rearview mirror, but since shifting gears once again, I realize I had fallen into a certain mental stagnation. When my body is not changing, there is a part of me that wondered if this is all I will be able to lose. While I have trained myself to appreciate the moment I’m in, I stopped thinking about what’s down the road, including how I will adapt as my body changes.

We be stylin’!

There’s part of my brain that simply can’t believe that this is who I am, now. It’s not body dysmorphia; when I look in the mirror, I see my accurate size, and I’m well grounded in where I am at this moment.

That part of my brain — maybe it’s that old inner Walt coming back for a visit — insists that this isn’t real. That it’s not permanent. That I’m not deserving, and I dare not think in terms of finally reaching a point where I am in optimal health and can focus more on maintaining.

It’s the same part of my brain that scolds me when I see an increase on the scale — as if to jab at me and say see? Told you so. It’s the taskmaster who torments my mind if I have the nerve to take a vacation and relax my eating plan for a few days, as if I’ll gain back 161 pounds in a week.

It’s fear of failure. Even after 4.5 years of making positive changes, it lurks in the dark corners of my mind. Although 4.5 years is certainly a long time, I spent more than 30 years as a morbidly obese woman, and I freely admit that living as that person was certainly far easier than the life I now lead.

People expect more of me, now. I expect more of me, now. I never, ever want to be that woman, again, and perhaps it’s good that my inner fear is there to remind me that the possibility of returning there will always exist.

If I occasionally feel like an imposter — or like a child playing dress-up and that this isn’t who I really am — I suppose I can learn to quiet that voice, as long as it serves to remind me to never go back down the path that led me here. It’s certainly a different kind of self-awareness that often leaves me feeling unsure and exposed as I find my way to a new normal.

 

Live Some

Feb8

 

Last week was a great week for loss and for breakthroughs. I didn’t have high hopes for this week because big losses usually come with some offsets afterward, but I am pleasantly surprised to report that I have another loss this week; I have now lost 156.4 pounds. This puts me a little closer to my next goal.

Goals are good things, as long as you’re smart about setting those goals and picking ones that are achievable rather than setups for failure. I’ve tried a lot of different things as weight loss goals over the years, and I’m sure you’ve had yours, too. I’ve had rewards, like getting contact lenses again, getting a tattoo, buying something special, even going out to dinner. (Honestly, cheat meals are not a good reward for losing weight — that should be self-explanatory, but hey, I did that, too.)

Physical rewards weren’t really a good incentive for me. They still aren’t.

Random Person who weighs roughly what I’ve lost. Can I count her off as a dependent on taxes?

On one particular effort, I threw out the idea of tying myself to the scale, because I was far too emotionally tied to the number and let it affect my outlook. So, I picked goal clothing that was too small, and when it finally fit, I would weigh, and then pick another set of goal clothing. It worked for a while, except I usually had a number in mind that I wanted and expected to see on the scale after staying off of it for maybe a month or two at a time, and if I didn’t see that number, it frustrated me.

The problem wasn’t the scale; the problem was my perception of success and the expectations tied to it.

I have promised myself any number of things over the years in the name of trying to work up the desire to get down to a certain weight. I still have clothes I bought probably 12 years ago hanging up in the closet; I kept a goal dress and a goal leather coat. Luckily, both were thrift sale finds, because that dress was probably out of style when I bought it. The coat, I’ll eventually see good wear out of it. But I stopped looking at either one and pushing myself to be that size. (On a side note, another coat that was a Christmas gift from my daughter 3 or 4 years ago now fits! And winter will be over soon.)

It’s not the clothes. I don’t even know if my body will be the right shape for those clothes to fit. And it’s not about the covering, anyway; it’s about my body’s ability.

Probably the biggest, dumbest goal I ever tried to take on was telling myself on the very first day of a diet exactly how much weight I needed to lose, total. From that point on, my eyes were set on that likely unachievable goal, and I was incredibly hard on myself, to the point of punishing myself. I didn’t allow myself to live in the meantime; in my head, the rewards would finally be reaped once I was that certain size and weight, and not before.

It’s not about delaying life to some undefined point in the future. It’s about living right here and right now.

This time around, I did something different. So far, it has worked. (And I think, after 4.5 years, it’s safe to call it a success.) I knew full well on the first day of my diet that I needed to lose at least 200 pounds, but I also admitted to myself that setting such a long distance goal was only likely to frustrate me. So, I set my goal for losing 50 pounds. I’ve lost 50 pounds time and time again. Do that, I thought, and then move on.

So that’s what I did. I made it to 50. The reward? Nothing, really, except being able to look myself in the mirror and be glad that I had reached that point. Once that was behind me, I set my goal for another 50. And then another, after that.

Last week, I passed 150 pounds down. And… I didn’t reset my goal for another 50. Nope! I set it for a short goal: 8 pounds. 8 pounds, in the grand scheme of the path I’ve come, is nothing at all. And at the same time, it’s everything. Because I didn’t get here by chunks of 50 pounds down, and again, and again. I got here in increments; 2 pounds here, a slight (or not so slight) gain there, lose that same 2 pounds (or 20 pounds!) a few times until it sticks, another 4 ounces down below my low weight.

Being a total of 158 pounds down puts me firmly under a BMI of 40, which is what my orthopedic surgeon’s office wants. I am already under 40 BMI, but this means I’ll have no doubts when I walk into his office next month and I am weighed once again (with clothes on. Let’s not scare the poor man!). It also means I’ve passed out of the category of morbidly obese to just plain old obese. Not that my whole actual physical state changed magically the second I crossed that line, although by all accounts, the stats say that’s exactly what happens.

I am now within easy attainable reach of that short goal. Like all my other goals, the reward is in my changed and improved abilities as well as my possibilities; now it’s possible to go ahead with knee replacement surgery, which I firmly believe is the next step in my progression toward better health.

After that short goal is met, I have a few other short goals on the way to 200, but the reward is in living in the here and now rather than some fantasy on a distant horizon.

You Don’t Own Me

Feb2

 

“It won’t work,” Mr. Bentley continued, sipping his tea. “No matter how hard you try to be what you once were, you can only be what you are here and now. Time hypnotizes. When you’re nine, you think you’ve always been nine years old and will always be. When you’re thirty, it seems you’ve always been balanced there on that bright rim of middle life. And when you turn seventy, you are always and forever seventy. You’re in the present, you’re trapped in a young now or an old now, but there is no other now to be seen.”
— “Dandelion Wine”, Ray Bradbury

It took seemingly forever to get here, but when my body and mind decided to work together, I made quite the jump straight over that momentous 150-pound mark to land at 155.2 pounds down. It’s been a fantastic week for loss!

It’s natural to think back on where I’ve been, especially since I firmly believe that my successes are directly tied to the amount of headwork I’ve needed to do.

Lately, I’ve seen photos of myself at various points in my history, and I’ve cringed. Yes, I was horribly overweight, but it wasn’t that. I have always known that my weight gain was a shield and a symptom. Those times were tough times, and while someone else might not notice, I can see the sadness, the trouble, the depression in those photos. There are entire sections of my life of which I am not at all proud, and I sometimes regret that I have spent so many dark days and lost so much time.

I’ve lost any of these women. And a pound of butter.

But life, whether it’s weight loss, career choices, learning, or anything else, is certainly a process. I’ve often mentioned having lost great deals of weight before, but even on my best day then, I am not that same person, now. Neither, luckily, am I the woman who wallowed in depression. While I’ve journeyed a long way to arrive at this point in my life, I am simply me, as I am in this moment; no more, no less. I have the gift of the same potential as anyone else at this very moment. (And so do you.)

While I have been operating under a bit of an invoked timeline for weight loss, lately, that’s not my normal situation. (The good news there is I am now within the acceptable weight range for knee surgery, far ahead of my date.) With around 200 pounds to lose and a multi-year process to achieve it, it’s quite easy to always look forward rather than appreciate the here and now.

Today, I am thankful for where I am at this very moment. I’m not waiting to start an undefined life in some unknown future after I’ve lost a certain amount of weight. I’m working on living my best life now, and at the same time, accepting that I am no longer who I have been, and the burdens I carry from my past no longer serve me.

To that old brain of mine that held me hostage, this is my message: you don’t own me. I choose to not make my choices based on old clutter from all the times I’ve failed, before. “There is no other now to be seen” because I create now in every moment.

 

Haven’t Got Time for the Pain

Jan26

 

First things, first: I can finally announce that I’m at a new weight loss low. Ain’t it great? I am exactly 149 pounds down from my starting point. I have finally broken a plateau; that has lasted since last May.

“A really strong woman accepts the war she went through and is ennobled by her scars.” – Carly Simon

I’ve waited a horrendously long time to pass Mile Marker 150 on my own personal highway. It’s been a long time in coming; I’ve been held back. I only need to look in the mirror to see who’s responsible for that.

Yes, part of the blame is because I had to recognize a need for a plan adjustment so I could progress. A tune-up, if you will. That got me a little bit farther on down the road.

I have lost 149 pounds of Floyd Mayweather, boxer.

The rest has been my good old brain and the mental junk I’ve clogged it up with, all surrounding my own fears of passing that mile marker. There was a fair amount to declutter; just when you think you’ve got a good handle on things, something else rears its ugly head and must be dealt with. A roadblock, if you will, that I constructed to stand in my own way.

I have been morbidly obese for probably 90% of my adult life. Being able to solve the riddle of why I ended up at a high weight of 371 pounds is absolutely crucial if I plan to avoid ever being in that same spot, again. It doesn’t come from trying to divorce myself from the things that landed me there; it comes from recognizing the scars and working through them.

At the heart of it is the eternal question: who am I? Close behind it: who do I want to be? One flows directly from the other. Without those answers, I am a vehicle with no steering wheel.

I was successful, once before, at losing 140 pounds, but I failed at keeping it off. The easy reason why is because I couldn’t answer those two simple questions. I wasn’t strong enough to cope with learning who I was, or could be; I wasn’t totally true to myself. So I gave up, and I let the weight come back, knowing full well that I was hiding.

Who am I? Right now, today, I am mentally strong, and I’m tired of hiding behind weight. I am secure in who I am. I’m learning immense things about myself, and one of the most amazing is that I’m perfectly capable of not only bouncing back from the scars, but that I know there are scars yet to come, and I’m not about to dwell on them. As Carly Simon said… I haven’t got time for the pain; I have a life to live. I’m moving the roadblocks and getting out of my own way.

Who do I want to be? My fullest self. Able to live my life with as much joy and gusto as I can manage. Remain true to me, to the things that bring me joy and a sense of self-worth. There’s no reason to hide, after all; I’m done with hiding scars. Scars are signs of healing, and that’s what I’m about.

150? Bring it!

 

Winter Wonderland

Jan19

 

We’ve had a few mild winters in a row. I could actually boast that (and be telling the honest truth!) until a few weeks ago — when the first cold snap hit and dropped our normally mild southern Arkansas temperatures to flirting with single digits. At least it wasn’t snowing.

No, that came this week. On the evening of Martin Luther King Day, it started snowing, and by Tuesday morning, we had five inches of snow. We knew it was coming, but nothing quite prepares you for a Snow Day.

Look! It’s the Abdominal Snow Man! 😉

Although I grew up in a climate where snow was no big thing, I’ve lived here for the entirety of my adult life, and when there’s a snow day, you can count on Southerners to do one thing without fail: eat everything in sight. Second only to the Super Bowl (and maybe New Year’s Day), snow days are snack days.

Over the years, we’ve been in the habit of taking those rare snow days and overindulging in rare form. We’ve done everything from emptying out the freezer and cooking up everything in it (in our defense, the power was out for over a week) to baking cookies, making nachos, cooking up batches of chili, and don’t forget the beer!

Who cares about milk, bread, and eggs? It’s Doritos and Velveeta all the way, baybee!!!

Slam on the brakes, though. Back to reality.

Lisa doesn’t eat like that anymore.

Not that my brain wasn’t arguing with me about it. Plenty of but, but, BUT IT’S A SNOW DAY! echoing around in my brain. I wanted nothing to do with discipline; that’s for those occasions we know about in advance. We might have another snow day for a few years! (Or it might happen again next week, but my brain doesn’t want to hear that.)

You’ll be happy to know that I didn’t succumb to the siren song of Snow Day munchies. I’m still chipping away at changing my weight, and remembering that being able to freely move in snow isn’t yet possible for me, thanks to crappy knees, was a quick reality check. I’m working hard at getting weight off so I can have my knees replaced. That’s hardly the only reason, but it’s the time-sensitive one I am focused on for the time being.

A couple of (snow!) days later, the snow and ice is finally melting and school is back in session. Visions of cheese dip are no longer dancing in my head. All is well with the world, and my brain is back out of the dietary red zone.

 

Friends in Low Places

Jan12

 

I had high hopes of being able to announce, today, that I’d finally broken through my low. Alas, no — one pound stands between me and my low weight. That’s not much in the grand scheme of things; much better, in fact, than the position I was in several months back, so I have faith that some future blog very soon will be screaming about finally breaking into new territory.

I’m actually quite thankful to be this close and in this position just a couple weeks after the holidays; I managed to keep them fairly in check. We all know someone — perhaps even you — that hopped on a diet just a couple weeks ago, not only to get those holiday pounds back off, but perhaps achieve more weight loss than that.

Soooooooon.

There are plenty of people that have already given up on their efforts. Go to practically any gym in the country during the week after January 1 and you’ll see how packed they are with new members, hoping to get their lives in order. A month later, these numbers will have dropped off substantially.

When I made the commitment over four years ago to give it another try, I wasn’t enthusiastic about my chances of staying on a longterm diet, but I also knew myself well enough to take steps that would increase my chances of success. They include:

I made progress videos. These are for my eyes only. I recorded them with messages to my future self, so I wouldn’t forget the things I’ve struggled with, so I’d keep hold of the dreams I had at those moments in time. I have not made one in quite some time since I’ve recorded the videos at certain weight loss milestones, but I am very near one, now. Personally, I know how easy it is to convince myself that I’m just fine where I am, but stating the truth of my life on video has been an extremely emotional process that has kept me grounded.

I made myself accountable. That’s why I created this blog, after all. It took some guts to admit to the world — and especially to myself — the state I was in when I took my first steps toward better health. After all, how on earth can you know where you’re going, if you don’t know where you’re starting? Being in denial about my weight and health only got me deeper in a hole I’ve spent years climbing back out of.

I surrounded myself with support. This is one of the most important things I did for my own mental wellbeing. I am not a joiner by nature; I tend to try to do things alone. This is indelibly tied to accountability, though; when I have felt like dropping out of view because things haven’t gone well, friends who care have been there to remind me that this is just a detour in the journey. Whether it’s a kind word or a group sharing of ideas for change, being among like-minded people who care is one of the most generous gifts you can give yourself: don’t be alone.

So here I stand, a pound above my low. I could be frustrated that it didn’t happen; after all, this is far from the first time I’ve come this close to finally setting a new low during the past 8 months of weight loss plateau. Instead, I feel both fortunate to be surrounded by people who support me, even when I stumble, and I know with confidence that I’ll be sharing good news with you, soon.

 

Roundabout

Jan5

 

I’ll be honest. I don’t know what to write, this week, so I’ll just tell you where I’m at.

It’s no secret I’ve been dealing with a long plateau. I once had a 2.5-year plateau and then finally just gave up trying to break it and ate all the things, regaining all of the 140.5 pounds I’d lost on that particular journey, and probably about 35 pounds or so more. I was tired of trying to figure out what was going on, felt like I’d deprived myself for far too long for no good reason, and gave in to the “it isn’t fair!” cry in the back of my head.

So needless to say, those things are on my mind, now. I’ve learned to turn down the volume of that insidious “it isn’t fair!” cry, but occasionally, the volume increases and I have to address it.

Like the longest plateau, I started seeing my weight creep up. I lied to myself about whether or not what I was doing was detrimental. At one point, I was up 25 pounds, and then (perhaps quite fortunately) I was refused knee surgery because of my weight, and it got me angry.

GIF visual of a weight loss plateau

Not that I didn’t get angry while I was on that very long plateau years ago, but this time, the difference is that my anger drove me to re-evaluate what I’m doing and why it wasn’t working. Before, I just stubbornly kept on the same path, and my journey started looking like I’d been caught in a huge traffic circle; I finally jumped off at the wrong exit and that was the end of what had been a very successful journey.

Journeys in the interim were moderately successful, but I just didn’t have the heart to stay on them long term. There’s only so much personal beating up you can stand before you just numb yourself with food, and I did that a couple of times.

I know all that is depressing to read, but I promised transparency when I first started this blog, and at times, I’ve strayed from it, so I feel it’s best to be honest about things now. The important thing is that unlike my earlier trials, I’ve done some crucial work on my own mindset, and it’s brought me to a different place; a mentally healthier one.

Instead of anger over the unfairness of being given a particularly tough go of it leading to frustration and then surrender, I’ve turned that anger back into what it should have been in the first place: being a scientist on my own behalf and actually evaluating myself for the possibility of change.

I am close to being off the infernal roundabout, and I know which exit to take. I am hovering just above my low weight after battling through the holidays. I am looking forward, again, to seeing the number on the scale each morning. I am confident my lot will change, soon, and holding firm.

The biggest change I see in my current circumstances over all the times I’ve thrown in the towel, before, is my mindset. I have far too much to lose and everything to gain by continuing to work on my own mental strength. So, I leave you with this: soon. Keep watching this space.

 

This Is Me

Dec29

 

Another year nearly gone. Where does the time go?

This year has taught me much about my body, my abilities, my mental processes. As my fourth complete year on a trek toward better health draws to a close, these highlights come to mind:

I said goodbye to using a cane — for good. Not only that, but it’s the year I seriously started walking, again. I started last February or March… I forget, now. I walked around my backyard. Getting 1,000 steps in a day was a major accomplishment.

While I’m not exactly running marathons, I easily reach 5K steps in a day, now. I do need to recommit myself to walking in a more structured manner, so this is a reminder to me that every step matters. Just a few days ago, my FitBit program told me I’d walked 500 miles. Imagine that! It all truly starts with one step.

I decide who I am. No one else.

I dealt with a longterm plateau. And I still am, but things are looking up. I’m retraining my eating habits and while I am still lingering just a couple of pounds above my low, I’ve lost weight I regained. Even here after Christmas, with a few indulgences under my belt, I’m not lamenting snug clothes or feeling bloated.

I am close to breaking this plateau; I was within one pound just last week, before the advent of company and traveling. I know it’s within my power, now, and I feel firmly back in control. Expect me to break this plateau soon! I am ending the year weighing less than I did when I started it, and that is always a success.

I recovered from bad news. When I had to fight for a surgery date, I struggled mentally with what I saw as an injustice. It still is, to a point; BMI is complete hooey and was never meant to be used as a medical requirement. I am positive that insurance companies are totally in love with the idea of classifying people by BMI, because it benefits them financially to do so.

Regardless, I was faced with the decision to give up or fight. And I’m not giving up. Not when I have come this far.

It also taught me something about myself and how I need to overcome exterior hurdles. To this point, just about all the constraints I had were ones I put on myself. Adapting was necessary. Was I up to the task? For a while, I really wasn’t sure. But I took the advice of my surgeon and I’m getting better results. It pays to get my ego out of the way.

I faced challenges. Many of my challenges this year weren’t actually my own; today is the one year anniversary since my husband had an accident that resulted in two knee replacements — when it was originally going to be my year. I had to put that aside and be there for my husband’s recoveries. I had to be the strong one; the ass kicker at times.

I have spent so many years being the one with the lesser physical abilities that it struck me as a complete reversal to be the stronger one. How the heck did that happen? But it also gave me a unique perspective as a caregiver. While my inabilities were not from surgery, I know what it is to be restricted, what it takes to overcome it, how to function in those situations.

I defined myself. This is one of the biggest battles we all face: who are we? Who do we let define us?

The answer, for me, is that I define myself — I will not live with how others choose to define me. I’ve done that for far too much of my life, and as I look back at stages of my life, I realize how much I allowed that to happen. How unhappy I was. It had little to do with weight; that was only a symptom.

I have big hopes for the year ahead, not the least of which is the ability to look back a year from now and know I have made even greater strides toward health. One of the biggest accomplishments of this past year is settling into who I am, with no apologies, and I plan to continue that.

This is me.