I spent a year hiding from my own body
If you know what it's like to stand in your closet figuring out which shirt hides what, I wrote this for you.
One moment, please ๐ค
If you know what it's like to stand in your closet figuring out which shirt hides what, I wrote this for you.
Someone tagged me in a photo from a neighborhood barbecue. I was holding a paper plate and my upper arm was pressed against my ribcage in a way that made it look wider than I'd ever seen it on my own body. I knew it was me because of my shirt. But if you'd shown me that photo without context, I would have needed a second.
Over the next two years I tried everything. Calorie counting until I was Googling "calories in seven Goldfish crackers" at 2 AM. Six diets in four months. Keto until Thanksgiving broke me. A gym I ghosted. Six supplements that burned my esophagus and emptied my wallet. I lost weight and gained it back so many times I stopped keeping track.
Eventually I found a combination of four things that worked together โ nothing dramatic โ just four ordinary things that each fixed a different part of the problem. It took eighteen methods to find them. So I wrote everything down. Every diet that failed, every supplement that lied, every night I wanted to quit, and the four things I still do every morning.
Lighter means two things. Less weight on the scale, yes. But also less weight everywhere else โ my mornings, my marriage, the morning I caught my nine-year-old copying me in the bathroom mirror while I was sucking in my stomach. I wrote this because finding the answer took me two years and eighteen wrong turns. If you've been where I was, I hope it saves you some of that time.
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