
Super Personal Episode! My 30-Year Journey From Diet Culture to Self Love and (Pretty Good) Health
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Before we get going, I need to be super clear about something:
You do not have to read this post. Seriously. If you even hear the word “health” and immediately feel angry, down, or stressed, you’re allowed to walk away. You are allowed to set boundaries around this. You are allowed to do what makes you feel good.
This is a deeply personal share about health, weight, and exercise. And if that doesn’t feel good for you right now, please feel free to come back another time when I’m writing about something completely different. No hard feelings. I know how personal and charged this journey can be.
But if you’re staying, welcome to this messy, honest, 30-year journey from diet culture obsession to actual self-love, acceptance, and (pretty good) health.
The Annual “Health” Resolution (That Wasn’t About Health)
Around this time of year, everyone is making health resolutions. And by “health,” what we often really mean is weight. I know because I was that person.
For 25, maybe 30 years, every January I’d vow to lose X pounds or work out every day—not because I loved moving my body, but because I believed that was the ticket to finally being “enough.”
But here’s the funny part: I actually did make a health resolution recently… and it was to eat less pizza. Yup. True story.
This year, our family decided to eat dinner at the table at least four times a week, which for us, with all the activities and sports, feels like a win. And because we eat at the table, we’re cooking more and, yes, eating less pizza. Mother of the Year, I know.
Growing Up in the 90s: A Perfect Storm
I grew up in the 90s, a time when “thin” was the ultimate goal (remember “heroin chic” and Kate Moss?). I’ve always been curvy, and from as young as 11, I was hyper-aware of my body not fitting into what culture deemed “ideal.”
Add in ADHD (with its sugar cravings), a love for food (because, hi, food is good), and a dad who was a high-level marathoner and triathlete, and I was steeped in a world where worth was tied to performance, thinness, and control.
I went on every diet you can imagine, from Susan Powter’s rice-heavy plan to Weight Watchers, learning calorie counts and fiber grams for every food. I ran marathons, did triathlons, and swung between extreme exercise and stopping altogether when my pants didn’t fit. It was a cycle of shame, perfectionism, and endless “fixing.”
The Moment Everything Changed
Three big things shifted for me:
1. I ditched the scale.
One day, I felt amazing in my outfit, only to go to the doctor, step on the scale, and immediately deflate. Nothing had changed about me, but a number told me I wasn’t enough. That day, I decided never to weigh myself again. We don’t own a scale, and it’s so freeing.
2. I stopped believing the mean voice in my head.
After catching a glimpse of myself in a store window and spiraling, I paused and thought, “Would my friend Catherine say that about me? Would Chris (my husband) say that about me?” No. So why was I believing me over the people who love me? Now, when the negative self-talk starts, I stop and remind myself: “Catherine would not like that.” It changed everything.
3. I stopped dieting.
During COVID, I tried keto. One day, I realized I didn’t want to do it anymore, so I stopped. I decided to eat whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted. For four years, I practiced letting myself actually eat. No guilt. No shame.
And you know what happened? Eventually, I started craving smoothies. Then salads. Not because I “should” eat them, but because I wanted to. My body began asking for what nourished it, not because of scarcity or restriction, but from a place of trust.
Moving for My Brain, Not for My Weight
Around the same time, I decided I would only exercise in ways that felt fun. I tried everything—yoga, barre, Pilates, dance—and eventually found a bootcamp I love. I started working out with a friend, and it became something I looked forward to, not something I “had to” do to burn calories.
I also reframed exercise as something I do for my brain—to manage my ADHD, to support my mental health, to feel good. Not as a punishment or a tool for weight loss.
The Beautiful (Messy) Middle
Now, I’m in my 40s (nearing 50), embracing perimenopause, and noticing wrinkles, and yet, I genuinely believe:
✨ I look good.
✨ I am a beautiful person walking through the world.
✨ I am worthy, exactly as I am.
It’s taken years to get here, and it feels tender, but so good. I’m no longer swinging between extremes. I’m living in the beautiful middle, where I can appreciate my body for what it does, move in ways I love, and nourish myself without shame or fear.
You Are Enough
If you take one thing from my journey, let it be this:
You are absolutely enough, just as you are.
You don’t need to change your body to be worthy of love, belonging, or joy.
It is possible to learn how to treat yourself kindly, to shift the narrative in your head, and to start believing you are a beautiful, worthy human, no matter what the scale or culture says.
Thanks for sticking with me through this personal share. It feels big, messy, and honest, and I hope it reminds you that it’s possible to find peace with yourself, your body, and your health in a way that feels really good.
Until then, be kind to yourself. 💛