For as long as I can remember, I battled with self-esteem issues—no matter my size. I could have been a size 6 and still felt “fat” or not pretty enough. I was once married, and if you looked at me back in September 2002, you’d see a lean, fit woman with a bright, healthy smile. But what you couldn’t see in that photo was the self-loathing and sadness I carried within me.

My struggles began in childhood with trauma that seeped into every cell of my being. For years, I pushed it down, not realizing how much it shaped my life until my world eventually came crashing down. I was grieving the loss of my mother, who was also my best friend, while working in an extremely high-stress job with no work–life balance. I lost my way—I lost myself.

Food, wine, and shopping became my way of numbing the pain. As I sank deeper into this cycle, the weight piled on. At the same time, I faced a bullying neighbor, a bullying boss, and the early stages of my dad’s Alzheimer’s diagnosis. Life felt unbearably heavy.

In January 2022, I moved my dad in with me until April 2025. During those years, I also grieved the loss of my soul dog, Harvey—an excruciating heartbreak. All of it compounded until I realized I was stuck in my own pity party, sitting on the sidelines of my own life.