In 2020, I Literally Lost 240 Pounds of Dead Weight!

And You Can, Too!

In the last year, I did two things I absolutely 100% believed I could NOT do.

I let go of two somewhat related burdens and I am literally lighter. I lost, got rid of, let go of 240 pounds of excess baggage!

First, I lost all the extra weight my body was carrying around.

I now weigh about 43 lbs less than a year ago.

After years of gaining and losing, cleaning and detoxing, my body finally let go of a lot of inflammation and is working like a well-oiled machine. My metabolism, previously non-existent, now miraculously works. I can feel my body using the nutrition it receives. My need for food is less, which helps with healthy aging.

Permanent weight loss has been THE struggle of my life: gaining and losing the same 20+ pounds over and over, about 200 accumulated pounds ultimately. I tormented myself daily about the size of my body, the sugar cravings that just would not quit, the emotional trauma of my childhood that I believed was the root cause of my overeating for decades. If I had a penny for every moment of anxiety about my food issues, I would be part of the 1%. Oh, the wasted energy!

Now, I am a success story, instead of being someone who coveted someone else’s success story. My fear of regaining the weight has left me. I feel veritably different in my skin. I feel healthy and whole.

I feared losing the excess weight in part because I knew how quickly it would find me again. I had so many self-defeating beliefs, despite all my affirmations, that I was toxically ambivalent about my ability to lose the weight.

This time, for the first time, losing weight was a magical experience. I was not in a rush. I did it slowly. I went within and became calm about my goal; however long it took I would keep showing up. It was between me and me, no buddy system, no support groups, nothing that took me outside of myself. I held the space for my own self. Every day I chose. Every day I encouraged myself. Every day the abatement of hunger meant my body was using the highly nutrient food I fed it.

As I kept lowering my inflammation levels, healing the gut, rebooting the metabolism, I did not feel deprived, desperate or needy. I felt quiet, gentle, and affectionately stealthy. There was ease and there was grace. That extra weight finally, ultimately melted away.

I feel light. I am unburdened. I am free.

Second, and this is really big: I separated from my significant other after 23 years.

Until five months ago and for the last 13 years, I had been in a state of unresolvable, unrelenting tumult, characterized by intense indecision, about staying or leaving my partner. I felt unhappy, unfulfilled, overburdened, exhausted, lonely and unseen. The swirling eddy of my toxic ambivalence churned around and around inside me as an extra weight, as my actual weight increased.

After a few miserable years with my significant other thirteen years ago, I chose to keep my family together until my kids were ready to leave the nest, whereupon I would have the luxury to decide my future. I felt that the wounding of breaking up the family would be worse for my daughters than the pain of living in a home where the parents did not exactly have a loving, warm relationship. I survived by withdrawing enough from the relationship that I could be a good roommate. I stopped caring about his hedonistic drives of the moment and focused on my large responsibilities at work and home. I stopped talking to my friends about my unhappiness. How much more could I put them through with the swirling freezing maelstrom of my ridiculous ambivalence?

Almost four years ago, on the fateful eve of Donald Trump’s inauguration, when my significant other was caught lying and cheating with his newfound compulsion with 20 year old prostitutes, after decades of his ever-increasing obsessive pornography indulgence, he wanted to save the relationship. He paid me some of the $7000 he had spend on hookers over the prior 6 months as a restitution of sorts. He started in on therapy for himself and was a willing participant in couples therapy. He became a bit more considerate of me. I let go of a lot of years of resentment, and kept showing up, still ambivalent but curious. Would this crisis end up saving our relationship?

Couple therapy helped somewhat and so did the agreement we designed over months with the help of the therapist, but was it enough? Could I truly open my heart to him? The decision loomed and my indecision was still driving me crazy on a daily basis. I was looking for clarity.

It just so happened his latest violation this past summer of our detailed agreement made it impossible for me to continue to be with him. I had to have him leave our home, coinciding with my daughter launching herself by leaving for college. The clarity I felt about the decision was staring me unflinchingly in the face.

Maybe he had saved the relationship before in a way but this time his willful breaking of our agreement was the final straw. He admitted he never considered me, our relationship, or what was at stake when he drove to a secret location and punched in the code for his prostitute. He confessed that he had no compunctions about breaking our agreement, he was driven by his sexual obsession. He agreed that his hubris lured him into a false bubble of complacency: he believed I would never find out. But, as fate would have it, his lies came out one sunny afternoon, as if they knew they had to find me.

On that day, I had no idea that it would be the last we ever lived together. I had to have him leave right away so I could process. Each day thereafter, I adopted a ritual: I slept alone and when the sun rose each morning, I stayed in my warm bed and tuned in to see if this was the day my heart could have him return. Every day the answer was the same: a neat, unequivocal ‘nope’.

He knew of my entrenched ambivalence and he knew he didn’t want to lose me. Just as confidently, he crossed the line, broke the trust, stretched the rubber band of my ambivalence so far that it broke.

The years of endless indecision were over. He gave me the biggest gift he ever bestowed upon me in all our years together: I was free of the burden of carrying years my angst-filled ambivalence. I was free.

The first two months of being separated were very intense as the molecules and atoms in my heart, mind, and home readjusted to life without him. I was angry, very angry. I wrote a lot, spoke with my women friends, and slowed down enough to consciously and lovingly rebuild my life. Sometimes I would feel a stab of loneliness and watch it easily slide over just a bit into a space of ease and calm. It was not long until mostly I felt lighter, freer, unburdened and ever so relieved.


So here I am, grinning easily ear to ear, having accomplished two things I struggled with for a very, very long time. Poof! Done! I hadn’t had to harbor deep dark suffering or pain. I just stepped lightly forward, released from that 240 pound, long-held burden.

Is there a right time for everything, when the seemingly insurmountable struggle stops and luxurious ease takes over?

You too can achieve the impossible. Keep setting your intention. Keep the focus on that intention. Keep seeking mental clarity about that intention. Keep trying and failing, knowing eventually things will synch up and you will succeed!

I have two new impossible goals- finding true love and growing my coaching business! Impossible seeming things I could not possibly achieve, right?

Health Coach & End of Life Doula who loves to write on Wellness, Third Act of Life, Death & Dying, Autoimmunity, Trauma, Food & Weight.

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