Since I was eight years old, my size has been determined by the Body Mass Index, AKA BMI. For 47 years, I haven’t gone a day without some kind of diet and/or exercise plan. My self-worth depended on being less than a certain number on the BMI scale and not on who I was as a person. It wasn’t until a few years ago that I found out that the BMI was based on the average body type of a white man. It didn’t account for women, ethnicity, muscle-to-fat ratio, or body type. However, to this day, all doctors still use the BMI as a starting point to determine if someone is healthy or not. I get it. It is a quick and dirty way to determine if the patient needs to lose (or gain) weight. The problem is that when non-physician-run weight-loss programs encourage people with normal BMIs to continue to lose weight to line their company’s pockets, they are assisting in the creation of all three eating disorders.
In these past 47 years, I have struggled with eating disorders, severe body dysmorphia, low self-esteem, and mental illness. I thought all my problems, mental and physical, would be solved if I reached the elusive magical BMI number. I have tried physician- and non-physician weight loss plans, diet meds, and surgery. People told me I failed all these things because I lacked willpower. Finally, I decided I was going to stop dieting and eat whatever the hell I wanted. In 2019, I was diagnosed with tachycardia. Still kept eating. In 2022, I was diagnosed with diabetes. I realized sh*t had just gotten real. I had to get my act together, or I would not live to see my next birthday. I’ll be honest. At first, I took the GL-1 drugs without changing my eating behavior. It wasn’t until 2024 that I had a come-to-Jesus moment – I asked myself, “How long would I continue to do the same exact things, expecting a different result?” I realized at that moment I had to change.
What began as a change in my behavior when it came to dieting became a change in how I viewed myself as a person, the decisions I had made in my life that had led to where I was at this very moment. I began to look at the stories I told about myself and the stories I had told myself about other people. I found the root cause of my mental illness. I realized the apologies I was waiting for weren’t coming. I could continue to hate or forgive the people AND myself and move on. I found that discipline is much more powerful than willpower, and sometimes you need to give yourself grace – but not excuses. The most important thing I found is myself again. I love and like the woman in the mirror. I accept and forgive what she has been, and I am ready to jump into this next phase of life with her.
This post is called New Beginning because starting in November, my health and wellness team and I are going to start a process that I never did in all of my years of dieting. I am going to move into the maintenance phase. I am going to learn how to eat to maintain my weight loss. I am excited to go on maintenance. To finally say, I am happy with the size I am, and I don’t want to be less. The funny thing is, I am still considered obese according to the BMI scale. However, my skeletal mass, visceral fat, and muscle-to-fat ratio are all within normal limits. My resting metabolic rate is 16% higher than what is predicted for my height, age, weight, and gender. I have an outfit that I wore when I had a normal BMI – it’s a little loose on me now. I have a dress I bought as an inspiration dress many years ago – I can fit into it now. The elusive BMI number I thought I had to be to make my life perfect is a myth. I enjoy life now because I am doing the work and re-engaging with the world that I assumed always had it in for me. I love being curious and challenging myself to try something new. So I look forward to November with joy. I am no longer at war with the image in the mirror. We are Team Robin, running toward the next goal.
Until Next Time!
