It’s the last Monday of 2025, and what a roller coaster this year has been.

I had posts planned. I had ideas lined up. And then life did what life sometimes does: it intervened in ways I wasn’t expecting.

On Christmas Day, instead of soaking in rest and celebration, I checked into the hospital. I am deeply grateful that internal bleeding wasn’t the problem, but the experience forced me to confront something I’ve tried to outrun for years: the seriousness of what I eat and how I treat my body.

I’ve lived with disordered eating for decades. Even gastric bypass surgery, more than nine years ago, didn’t “fix” it, because surgery can alter a stomach, but it can’t heal a relationship with food. That part is heart-and-mind work, not hardware repair.

And if you relate to any of this, you are not alone — not by a long shot.

As we stand on the edge of a new year, I want to share a few honest reflections and practical tips, not from perfection, but from the middle of the work myself.

Stop chasing “Biggest Loser” speed

Fast weight loss looks exciting on TV. The huge numbers, the dramatic reveals, the applause — it hooks us.

But here is the truth I wish I had honored sooner:

If you don’t address why you gained weight in the first place: trauma, stress, neglecting yourself, using food for comfort or escape, the weight often returns, sometimes with friends.

Many contestants are proof of that reality.

Slow and steady really does win this race.

Instead of demanding an overnight transformation, break your goal down by quarters:

• January–March: work toward losing about 10% of your body weight
  
• April–June: another 10%
  
• July–September: another 10%
  
• October–December: your final phase and transition into maintenance
  

This isn’t a rule, and it isn’t punishment. It’s a framework. It allows for life, plateaus, illness, joy, holidays, and days where “all you did” was keep going.

Food pushers and well-meaning saboteurs

One of the most complex parts isn’t the food itself — it’s the people.

The family member who insists, “just one won’t hurt.”
The friend who celebrates with food and takes it personally when you say no.
The relative who equates feeding you with loving you.

Getting your household on the same page matters. You deserve support, not sabotage.

You’re not weak for finding this hard — you’re human.

The quiet truth about stress and boredom eating

My personal battleground is stress-eating and boredom-eating. If I’m overwhelmed, I eat. If I’m exhausted, I eat. If I’m lonely, I eat. In bariatric education classes, they called this “fat brain.” I don’t love the term, but I do understand the concept: your brain learned to use food as a comfort, a distraction, a reward, or anesthesia.

Retraining the brain is work. It means:

• Noticing the urge without shaming yourself
  
• Asking, “What am I actually feeling right now?”
  
• Building coping tools that aren’t edible
  
• allowing emotions without stuffing them down
  

You’re not broken for struggling with this. You’ve simply practiced one pattern for a long time.

A different kind of resolution

We love to chant “new year, new me,” but often we write resolutions like drill sergeants:

Be smaller.
Be stricter.
Be perfect.
Start Monday.

What if, instead, you made it personal?

What if you made a commitment with yourself and with your unhealed inner child to build a roadmap toward a healthier life, rather than a crash course in self-punishment?

Not a sprint. A marathon.

One where you are allowed to feel every emotion that comes up, even grief — grief for old habits, old coping mechanisms, old identities you’re ready to release.

The Resolution Blueprint

Here’s the blueprint I’m using going into the new year:

1. Health first, not thinness first
   Choose foods and habits that support healing, not just shrinking.
   
2. Quarterly goals instead of all-or-nothing promises
   Think in seasons, not ultimatums.
   
3. Therapy, journaling, prayer, or support groups
   Because this is emotional and spiritual work as much as physical.
   
4. Build daily rhythms, not heroic streaks
   Water, movement you actually enjoy, regular meals, sleep.
   
5. Tell the truth to yourself gently
   Not excuses, not self-hatred — honesty with compassion.
   
6. Ask your people for support
   “I need your help, not pressure,” is a powerful boundary.
   

About my recent absence

I know I disappeared for a few days. I didn’t plan to. My body demanded my attention in a way I could not ignore.

I am home, recovering, and taking this as a wake-up call rather than a failure.

Thank you for your patience. Thank you for your prayers and messages. Thank you for being here, not for my perfection, but for the shared humanity of the journey.

As we step into a new year, let’s refuse crash-course change and instead choose steady, compassionate rebuilding.

Not “new year, new me.”

Just:

Healing, honest, still-be-here me.

And if this resonates with you, consider this your invitation to create your own Resolution Blueprint. Not based on shame. Based on care.

We will take this one quarter at a time, one day at a time, one choice at a time.

You’re not behind.
You’re becoming.