I joke that I came out of the womb a Weight Watcher.
I grew up in diet culture. My mom was always watching her weight, and even though I was active, I was constantly trying to be smaller. I was a dancer, a gymnast, and I was strong, athletic, and capable… but I didn’t look like the “skinny” girls. And I learned early that “fit” didn’t always count.
In high school, dance team was my world. I was named captain my senior year, and my coach pulled me aside and told me I’d need to start eating salads because she “wasn’t taking a fat captain to state.” From that moment on, my body became a problem to fix.
A few years later, I married my husband, who was studying to be a chef. He introduced me to things like cream sauces and real butter. After months of living in stretchy shorts and oversized tanks, I tried on my student-teaching wardrobe and couldn’t even get the clothes on. I panicked. I took out my first loan to join a diet program that seemed legit because the staff wore lab coats. For six months, I drank chocolate shakes. I didn’t chew food once.
The weight came off… and so did my hair. I felt awful. I looked gaunt. And even then, I was still 10 pounds over that elusive “goal weight.”
Over the next few decades, I repeated the cycle: losing 35, 50, 70, 85 pounds and gaining back more than I lost. Eventually, I swore off diets. I ate “healthy” and still watched my weight creep up. I bought elastic-waist pants and tried to just live my life.
But then my life got smaller. Stairs left me winded. Putting on socks required a strategy session. I didn’t recognize myself in photos, in my energy, or in my confidence. After my doctor expressed concern that my weight was still rising and my labs showed signs of fatty liver and high triglycerides, I finally admitted: something has to change.
That’s when I learned about blood sugar stabilization and the mindset work that actually makes change stick. I decided to try. One. More. Time. But this time was different. For the first time in my decades of dieting, I understood why my body was fighting me, and I had a step-by-step way to work with it, not punish it.
I threw out the scale and focused on what I could feel: steadier energy, fewer cravings, clearer thinking, better sleep, less shame. Over time, my body changed too, but the biggest change was this:
I found peace with food.
Today, I coach busy women (especially those who’ve tried everything) to step out of the dieting matrix, the cycle of obsession and starting over, and into steady, sustainable health, without making food and weight the center of their lives.
My faith has been part of this too, because it changed how I see my body: not a project to perfect, but a gift to steward with wisdom and care.
If you’re tired of the cycle, you’re not broken. You’re just ready for a better way.
