010 A Weight Loss Journey Isn't the Goal - Freedom Is

Mindset & Motivation Series

Letting Go of Perfection, Embracing Progress 

Why I Am Saying This

Last time, I wrote about starting over quietly—without applause, without fanfare, and without the support I used to crave. I’m still walking that path. But today, I want to be clear: this isn’t a weight loss blog. It’s not about chasing numbers or shrinking myself to fit someone else’s idea of success. It’s about healing. It’s about reclaiming my life, my voice, and my worth—one quiet step at a time. 

I haven’t felt truly healthy in a very long time. Honestly, I’m not sure I ever have. As a child, they called me “big boned.” Now, I live in a body labeled morbidly obese—though I prefer to call myself fluffy. I’ve always loved sports, thrived on competition, and found joy in movement. But somewhere along the way, that love gave way to long office hours and a travel schedule that demanded everything but rest. 

I don’t feel good in my own skin. I don’t feel good emotionally, and I don’t feel good spiritually. Something feels off—like a drummer missing beats, unable to find the rhythm. That’s what I want to heal. That feeling of not being able to perform at my best. To not look my best. To not live my best. 

So no, this blog isn’t about weight loss. It reaches far deeper. It’s about shining light into the quiet places we often overlook—the ones we’ve learned to ignore. It’s about naming what hurts, and walking toward healing with grace. 

The Problem with “Weight Loss Journey” as the Goal 

I could make this process easier by calling it a weight loss journey. That would be the simple thing to do. But this isn’t simple—and it’s certainly not easy. If it were, I would’ve succeeded long ago. I’d be that thin model we see everywhere we look. But I’m not that person. I likely never will be. And weight loss alone won’t turn me into what our culture calls beautiful. 

You know the images I’m talking about. The ones on magazine covers, in commercials, on social media. You’ve probably thought it too—just like I have—“Please, eat a sandwich.” But even that thought is tangled in the same trap. Because those images? They’re not real. They’re airbrushed art, not actual bodies. Imperfect women, digitally perfected. And it’s not just magazines anymore. Everyday people are afraid to post real pictures of themselves without a filter. There’s always something smoothing, brightening, reshaping. Perfect skin. Perfect smile. Perfect lighting. But that’s not reality. 

Striving for perfection sets us up for failure—every single time. I know, because I’ve done it. Over and over again. And every time I fall short of that impossible standard, I quit. The emotional stress becomes too heavy, and it crushes the very goals I’m trying to reach. 

What Healing Really Looks Like 

It’s the emotional stress I’m trying to heal—the weight of striving for something I was never meant to chase. That healing begins with honesty. I know I’ll never be the cover model on a magazine, and I can finally stop reaching for that goal. It’s not going to happen—and that’s okay. I can strive for a version of myself that’s real, possible, and whole. 

So how do I begin to reduce emotional stress and move toward the healing I crave? 

First, I practice self-awareness. I try to tune in to my emotions, observe how I respond to situations, and notice what throws me off balance. When I reflect—really reflect—I can name the feelings I’ve buried deep. I can stop stuffing them down into the abyss of my existence and start bringing them into the light. 

Second, I challenge my own thoughts and actions. I catch myself making excuses—this happened, that came up—and suddenly I’m off the path again. But the truth is, I do have time to move my body. I just need to spend 30 fewer minutes scrolling and 30 more minutes walking. 

Third, I choose kindness. I stop being my own worst critic. When things don’t go perfectly, I don’t need to announce to the world how terrible I am. I do it because I think they’re thinking it—but most of the time, they’re not. And even if they are, it’s none of my business what they think. Just like it’s none of their business what I think. 

These three practices—self-awareness, thought-challenging, and kindness—are my daily rhythm. They’re not easy. They’re much easier to write than to live. But I’m working on it. Every single day. I wake up like it’s Monday. And I begin again. 

Faith and Stewardship of the Body 

This blog isn’t just another weight loss story. It’s spiritual. It’s me learning to understand a greater purpose. It’s me trying to honor the truth that my body is a temple—a sacred vessel that holds the Holy Spirit and deserves to be treated as such. 

When I nourish my body well, I’m serving God. When I move my body with care, I’m serving God. When I allow myself to rest, I’m serving God. 

I’m not perfect at any of these things—but I want to be. I want to see my body as a gift, a loan from heaven for the time I’m here. Not something to punish or neglect, but something to steward with grace. 

Feeding it junk and chemically laden foods isn’t stewardship. It’s not reverence. My body deserves better than that. My faith calls me to offer better than that 

Beyond the Scale: What I’m Really After 

Freedom is the goal. 

I want the freedom to go where I please, when I please, how I please—and everything in between. But right now, I’m not free. 

I can’t walk into a regular clothing store and expect to find something that fits. I search and search for plus-size options, hoping they’ll carry my size. Most times, I end up ordering online, crossing my fingers that what arrives will look good or fit right. It rarely does. My closet is full of clothes with tags still on them. I want to be free of that. 

I want to feel energetic. I want to keep up with friends and family. I want to walk at a normal pace without feeling winded. I want to climb stairs without worrying I might fall. I want to fit in cars, in bathroom stalls, in event seats—without second-guessing or strategizing. 

I want to live the rest of my life fully. 

And right now, I’m not doing that. The weight holds me back—physically and emotionally. It’s easy to pass up invitations, not because I don’t want to go, but because I can’t bear the emotional toll of wondering whether my body will fit, whether I’ll be judged, whether I’ll feel safe. 

I want that emotional baggage gone. More than anything, I want to feel free. 

Quiet Accountability 

I’m being quiet about this.

Most people in my life don’t even know I’m writing a blog. And that’s intentional. I’ve said it before: I believe the victory is in the whisper. Healing doesn’t need a spotlight—it needs honesty. 

That doesn’t mean I’m not accountable. I am. I’m accountable to myself. I’m watching what I eat—not with rigid plans, but with intention. I journal. I check in. I make sure I’m eating for hunger, not emotion. No mindless snacking. No numbing. Just nourishment. 

I weigh myself on Wednesdays and Saturdays. Sometimes the number goes up. Sometimes it goes down. I’m learning not to live or die by the scale. That might be the hardest part of all. 

This is not the whole story. I am a work in progress. I don’t have all the answers. I don’t have perfect weeks. But I’m trying. I’m seeing progress—slow, steady, sacred. And for the first time, I know this progress is forever. 

I could never say that before.