What a difference a year and 4 months can make

I don't really take many "progressive pictures". But tonight I was going through old photos of when my husband and I started our journey and I can't believe how different I look from when we first started a year and 4 months ago to now. I still have a ton of weight to lose... but that's ok. The scale is going in the right direction - even if it is slow. I'll take what I can get.

Having PCOS has caused a lot of road blocks and plateaus, but I haven't allowed that to completely derail where I'm going, and what my end goal is. So, here is a "before" or starting picture - a "Sweaty selfie" we took on one of our work out walks - the other picture is from a couple days ago.




I feel like I'm not even the same person as the old picture anymore. I'm someone that is more confident, happier, healthier, and much more positive. The changes weren't just the food addiction and making healthier choices - but it has also been an exhaustingly mental, emotional, and spiritual journey for me as well.

I'm 36 years old, and for the first time in my life I finally like "me". Not just the physical me - but the person I'm becoming by adapting a healthier life style. In the beginning, it wasn't easy. I wasn't always nice to myself. I was critical and worried (constantly) about making the wrong choices. I'd sometimes get into my own head, and I'd derail myself from making progress. It wasn't until I stopped (mostly) caring about the scale that I started to see movement again.

Getting healthy has to be a personal choice that you make for yourself. You can't do this for someone else. Not your family, your husband, or even your kids. You have to love yourself enough to say your life is worth more to you than that donut, or cheese burger, or that addiction. You have to WANT to be healthy. You have to want to live.

I'm not going to sit here and tell you I've been a perfect Angel for the past year and a half. I haven't been. I've had temper tantrums and ate my donut out of spite for myself. There were days that I wanted to say "fuck it" and throw in the towel. You know what haunts me, though?

That burning, searing pain in my leg that prevented me from walking. The idea of leaving my husband, my family, and my friends behind in my wake if I were to die because of my poor choices. The thought that I will some day become a burden to a care taker who won't be able to move me because of my size. Those things strike fear in my heart like you can not even begin to imagine.

But I'm worth enough to myself to want to be healthy. To WANT to live. Because what I was doing for 35 years before all this wasn't living. I existed. I was miserable, and cranky, and had nothing to look forward to in my life. Now, I have goals, and dreams, and I want to see the world. You can't do that (Easily) as an obese person.

Anyway, I'm sorry I'm long winded. If you're ever in a place where you think you're not getting anywhere - KEEP PUSHING. The scale doesn't dictate your life, who you are, or where you're going. It's just a measure of mass - but it can't measure your heart. Keep fighting - you're worth it - and I can finally say with full confidence - I believe this to be true for myself, too!

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