009 The Winding Road to Healing

Getting Started Series

Why I am choosing Healing Over Weight Loss

Courage to Begin

I’m sick and tired of starting over. Of chasing weight loss like it’s the only measure of worth. This time, I’m choosing healing. Not a diet. Not a number. Just healing.

We say things like “I’ll start again on Monday.” But what does that really mean? What are we actually striving for—especially when we begin with the quiet belief that we’ll probably fail and have to start again?

Wouldn’t it be nice to begin something and know we’ll succeed?

I’ve lived that cycle. Monday after Monday. Promising myself I’ll try again. And maybe that’s the problem—our goal is always weight loss. That number on the scale becomes the finish line. But is that really being kind to ourselves? Or are we setting ourselves up to fail?

Weight loss takes time. A long time. And when I’ve spent weeks eating right, exercising, doing everything “correctly,” only to see no change in the mirror—that’s the recipe for discouragement. For quitting. For shame.

I know this because I’ve lived it for years—decades, even. I focused on the number on the scale, the reflection in the mirror, the size of my clothes. And I never found peace. They say the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result. So I’m choosing something different. A new way. A new mindset.

I’m changing the way I think. That’s the only place to start.

I’m not chasing weight loss anymore. I’m choosing healing. Not a journey. Not a transformation. Just healing the body I live in—the one I’ve damaged physically, mentally, and spiritually.

This time, I’m mustering the courage to begin again. To begin with intention. I’m not here for diets. I’m not here for numbers. I’m here to heal. I need to heal. And I’m stepping up to the plate with that purpose alone.

Permission to be New 

Healing means change. And change means permission. I’m giving myself permission to be new—even if it’s uncomfortable.

To begin healing, I have to allow it. I’ve lived in this unhealthy way for a long time. I’ve grown used to the body I’m in, the patterns I follow, the mindset I carry. But healing will change me—mentally, physically, spiritually. And I need to be ready for that. More than ready—I need to give myself permission to change.

How do I do that?

Sometimes, it starts with a simple list. One column for what I like about where I am today. Another for what I don’t. Then I go through each item and ask myself: Can I handle this change? Do I even want it?

Because healing isn’t just about the body—it’s about the world around me too. As I heal, people will see me differently. Some will see me for the first time. And I have to ask myself: Am I ready for that?

Giving yourself permission stirs up a lot of emotions—especially fear. Fear of the unknown. Fear of what life will look like when you’re a different person. We often say we’ll never change, but that’s not true. When we commit to healing, the healing itself begins to change us. It shifts how we think, how we feel, how we see the world. It even reshapes our personality.

And that’s okay.

Change can be good—when we allow it.

Clear the Path

Healing isn’t a straight line. It’s a winding road with potholes, detours, and unexpected turns. But it’s mine—and I’m learning to drive it with grace.

This path isn’t smooth. It curves and dips in ways I never expected. Honestly, it’s the kind of road you wouldn’t want to travel without a seatbelt. There are moments when I fight with myself. Moments when I become my own worst enemy. That’s part of it.

One day, I was driving down the road of healing—figuratively and literally—and I saw a sign that said Sharp Curve Ahead. It turned out to be a highly stressful situation with a client. I had to drop everything and rush to their rescue. In the past, I would’ve gone without hesitation, ignoring my own needs. But this time, I recognized the curve. I paused. I adjusted. I found a way to help them without abandoning myself.

That’s the key: learning to recognize those moments. Because the winding road to healing isn’t just about moving forward—it’s about knowing when to pause, pivot, and protect your progress.

This doesn’t happen overnight. I’ve been at it for years, and I’m still learning. I’m a forever work in progress. And I’d venture to say anyone healing their mind, body, and spirit is too.

It’s tough. But I believe—deep down—that when we allow ourselves to walk this path, there’s gold at the end of the rainbow. Not perfection. Not a finish line. Just something beautiful waiting to be uncovered.

Spiritual Anchors

I am walking this path of healing—and I am not alone. He is walking with me, and I know this because I’ve asked Him to. I’ve asked Him not only to walk with me toward healing, but through it. And I would invite you to do the same.

Because when we invite Him in, we’re not just asking for comfort—we’re choosing trust. I trust that God has good things in store for all of us. That belief shapes how I live. But we have to do our part. We have to live in a way that makes room for the blessings He’s prepared for us. When we take care of ourselves—mind, body, and spirit—we show the Lord that we’re ready to take care of more.

That’s what I want for my life. I want to become all that God created me to be.

I have plans for my life—big ones. I’m a dreamer. But I know His plans are even bigger. And when it comes down to it, I choose His plan over mine—even when I don’t understand it—because I believe healing is part of it. Every single time.

Emotional Honesty

Healing asks for honesty. Not just with others—but with ourselves.

For years, I’ve said “I’m fine” when I wasn’t. I’ve buried emotions so deep I forgot they were even mine. I’ve smiled through pain, pushed through exhaustion, and convinced myself that feeling nothing was strength.

But healing doesn’t happen in silence. It begins with a whisper. A quiet truth spoken to yourself in the dark. “I’m not okay.” “I’m hurting.” “I need help.”

That whisper is sacred. It’s the first crack in the armor. The first breath of honesty. And it’s where healing begins.

Emotional honesty is messy. It’s uncomfortable. It’s vulnerable. But it’s also holy.

I’m learning to sit with my feelings instead of stuffing them down. I’m learning to say, “I’m scared,” or “I’m grieving,” or “I’m not fine today.” And I’m learning that those words don’t make me weak—they make me whole.

If you’re walking this path too, I invite you to be honest with yourself. Not perfectly. Not all at once. Just gently. One whisper at a time.

Because healing begins the moment we stop pretending and start telling the truth.

Reflection

This is not the whole story.

Healing is layered. It’s not just about starting over—it’s about starting differently. With courage. With permission. With grace. If you’re standing at the edge of your own beginning, I hope this post reminds you that you don’t have to be ready. You just have to be willing.

You don’t have to chase perfection. You don’t have to explain your past. You only have to whisper the truth to yourself and take one honest step forward.

Because healing doesn’t begin with a finish line—it begins with a choice.