My Healing Journey: What Changed This Time
On discipline, healing, and learning how to care for myself differently
My Healing Journey Didn’t Start Here
I was 240lbs when I got pregnant with my daughter.
Since my last amateur boxing match in 2010, the finals of the Golden Gloves Tournament at Madison Square Garden, I’ve struggled with my weight.
I lost that fight. And in a way, I lost something else too.
I was broken open. A severed connection to myself.
The gym, which once fueled me with passion and dedication, became an allergy.
Childhood and adolescent trauma crashed into an abusive relationship, and I didn’t know how to process any of it. So I crashed.
The Patterns I Couldn’t Ignore Anymore
For more reasons than I’m willing to list here, I found myself in a maze, trying to navigate back to myself. What many call a dark night of the soul. A time where I was so far gone, so desperate, that the desperation could only lead to one of two places:
A commitment to change.
Or a commitment to staying stuck.
Lucky for me, I chose the former.
But I didn’t know how to sustain it.
Learning a New Way to Care for Myself
When I was boxing, I trained intensely. Three-hour sessions, multiple times a week. I pushed my body hard, the way I always had. But after boxing, I kept eating the same way without the same output.
Slowly, my weight crept up.
I would try to go back to the gym, but it never lasted. I wasn’t educated enough to understand how to fuel my body, and when I didn’t see results, I would crash again.
Subconsciously, I think it always brought me back to that last fight. That feeling of loss-not just boxing, but myself.
Then I had my daughter.
But I kept searching for answers.
The day I gave birth, I went in at 285 lbs. On my 5’10 frame, my body was in constant pain throughout the last two trimesters. After giving birth, I dropped down to 265.
Postpartum, I was anxious. Deeply anxious.
And I knew I had to do something.
So I went back to what I knew: structure. Discipline. A goal.
I started working out again probably a little too soon, but I felt ready. Or maybe I just needed to feel like myself again.
By March, I started tirzepatide.
By April, I connected with a trainer who was exactly what I needed at that moment.
He gave me permission to slow down.
To rebuild from scratch.
To meet my body where it actually was, not where I thought it should be.
And that changed everything.
What Changed this Time
By May of 2025, I was down to 247.
By August, I started working with a nutritionist. When I began with her, I was 226.
From there, the weight continued to come down steadily.
A year later, I am down over 75 pounds.
But more importantly, I am back in a relationship with myself.
Working out is no longer a punishment. It’s a non-negotiable form of care.
I’m no longer with my trainer or my nutritionist, but I carry the education with me. I know enough now to continue learning, adjusting, and growing on my own.
I feel lighter. Stronger. More energized.
More enthusiastic about caring for myself.
And about the medication—
My endocrinologist helped me understand how pre-diabetes was affecting my ability to lose weight. How my body was holding on to fat in ways I didn’t fully understand.
I have no regret taking it. My philosophy is simple:
Do what works for you, under the guidance of your doctor.
Weight loss medication and the people who take it are so widely criticized, and I’ve seen how quick people are to judge what they don’t understand.
The Reality of a Healing Journey
No one knows what it’s like to walk in your shoes but you.
Cut out the noise.
Everyone else can mind their own business.
This process was not just physical.
It was emotional.
Mental.
Spiritual.
It required me to look at myself honestly. To take responsibility. To stop outsourcing my care and start participating in it.
And in doing so, something finally shifted.
