When I started this journey my wake up call was an all-time high of 155 lbs on my digital scale. It flashed repeatedly and in my head I could hear the alarm sounds probably the same warning sounds they made when bombs started dropping. My BMI was 30.3. I was devastated but I had it coming.
It wasn't like I woke up one day and found myself 35 pounds heavier than I was mere months before. I knew it when my clothes were getting tighter, when I had to buy new jeans TWICE because the pair I got just a month ago wouldn't even go past my hips let alone button up. It was a scary spiral down the rabbit hole. I tried to make myself not care, consoled myself with thoughts that I was still pretty and it's my beauty inside that counts. I'm not saying that those things didn't matter, it's just that telling myself that is different from actually believing it.
I wish I could say that what triggered my desire to lose weight was a health issue but that would be a big fat (pun intended) lie. I'm vain. I admit it. It doesn't make me less of a person. I like looking good and feeling good. Being thin is not directly proportional to being happy, I know that but looking and feeling good is. So yes, I'm trying to lose weight so I can look good. Not for anyone else but for myself.
I have lost 17 lbs so far and with a BMI of 26.9 am no longer obese but overweight. Saying I'm overweight is not really pleasing to the ears but realizing how far I've come and how I've stuck to working towards my goal of having a normal BMI makes me really really happy. My journey is far from over, this is true, but at least I am going forward and trudging on. With hope. With faith. And with trust in myself that I will get there.