I found my lost FitBit. I decided to switch purses and pulled an old faithful from my closet. It was still full of the random junk you don’t actually need but forget to transfer when switching purses. Only in the bottom I found it: my FitBit. I reinstalled the app, charged the tiny device and got back into the step-counting groove.

I found something interesting in the FitBit app that caused a bit of a pause. More than a year before I kickstarted this current “journey,” I apparently tried to kickstart another version.

There it is. More than a year ago I had gotten down to about where I’m stuck now, then apparently rebounded back almost 10 pounds.

Am I stuck in this loop for the rest of my life?

Am I stuck in this loop for the rest of my life? Do I casually abandon the cause, add the weight then recommit to losing it? Shave off that same 10 pounds and repeat, year after year until I die?

During all that self-reflection the past few weeks, I’ve come to terms with the idea that my value is not determined by my obesity. I need to be able to look at myself in the mirror and honestly tell myself that I am a valuable human exactly the way I am. I’m not giving up. Giving up would be easy. It is what my body wants (colder weather means there’s this internal desire to pack on the extra insulation) and it is just easier to settle back into old routines.

Thought I looked cute. Might delete it later 🙂

I started following James Clear on Twitter. He’s the guy who is all about habits. I mentioned him in an earlier post. His Twitter feed kicks my ass. Just when I want to settle for choices that are comfortable, here he comes with some tweet about being where we are because we choose to be there. Now I will admit that my choices over time have, in fact, gotten me to this place. But I don’t have to settle for that and stop trying to change my trajectory.

So here is to sending selfies to your husband when you’ve done your eyebrows and hair and think you’re cute. Here is to avoiding the pantry when you’re hangry and sent all the well-balanced meals in sacks with your kids and husband that morning. Here’s to forcing yourself to get that last set of chest presses at the gym when you’re boobs want to fall off.

Here is to lasting change.