The Weight I Still Carry

I wasn’t planning to write about this.
I had another post all ready to go, something deeper that’s been sitting on my chest for a while. And you’ll still get that. But first, this. Because I can’t not acknowledge what just happened.  

Yesterday morning, a rocket full of celebrities took a ride to the edge of space and floated for five minutes.  Katy Perry held a daisy like she was posing for a perfume ad. And now they’re calling themselves astronauts.

Astronauts.

Now, one of them actually was; she alone trained for it and earned that title.
The rest were cosplaying on a multi-million-dollar vanity stunt. Preening like they did something noble.

I guess if riding in a rocket makes you an astronaut, then my smartwatch makes me a cardiologist.

Meanwhile, Loral O’Hara, an actual astronaut, just got back from nine months aboard the ISS. Nine months of enduring delay after delay to finally get rescued and come home, and most people didn’t even notice. 

This stunt wasn’t a win; this was nothing but performative progress that didn’t move a damn thing forward.

I’m so tired of spectacle being mistaken for significance.
So, I think that the post I planned for today still fits. Actually, maybe it fits even better now.

Because while they play astronaut, some of us down here are surviving real gravity.

The Weight I Still Carry

I lost 55 pounds. Again. And I’m proud of that.  I’m clearer, more grounded, and more at peace than I’ve ever been.

Maybe you've done that too. Maybe it wasn’t weight. Maybe it was leaving a toxic relationship. Setting a boundary. Getting sober. Starting over.

Whatever it was, you clawed your way out of something hard. And then, just when you thought It would finally get easier, the mental load showed up.
That's the part no one really talks about.

Some days, I still catch myself checking angles in the mirror. Zooming in too close on photos (thought to be fair, I usually hate most pics my husband takes of me – he catches what I feel are weird angles and never tells me my hair is a mess).

I read my own body like a report card.
Not every day, of course, but enough to remember where I started.
But now, I don’t let those thoughts spiral. I don’t pretend they don’t happen, either. Instead, I just let the thought land and then move on.

Peace isn’t the absence of struggle. It’s the refusal to get dragged back into it.

The Lie That Got Me Here (and Kept Me Stuck)

You ever fall for this one?
“If I could just lose the weight, I’d be happy.”

That lie gave me structure when I felt untethered. It gave me something to chase instead of something to feel. Feeling meant grief, anger, and helplessness, none of which I was willing to touch at the time.

So, I focused on macros, miles…anything but the truth.

But once you stop eating to cope, you have to actually deal with the thing you were trying to outrun in the first place.  
I wasn’t hungry; I was hurting and scared. I was just trying to stay upright in a life that didn’t feel safe, and food just happened to become my handrail.

The Stuff No One Cheers For

Discipline isn’t sexy. It’s definitely not fun. But it’s how you protect the version of you that’s still in the making.

It’s choosing what your future self needs more than what your current mood wants. Over and over and over again..

Carl Jung said, “You are what you do, not what you say you’ll do.”

That one sticks with me because I used to say a lot of things until I realized that saying them wasn’t the same as doing them. The road to hell being paved with good intentions and all…

A lot of people talk a good game about what they’re going to do.
They make promises and grand statements, wrap them all in good intentions, and call it accountability.

Real life isn’t built on forecasts and promises but on consistent repetition.
And depending on who you’ve had to count on…you learn that the hard way.

Jim Rohn put it this way: “You either suffer from the pain of discipline, or you suffer from the pain of regret.”

If you’ve ever reached for comfort and stopped yourself, you know. If you’ve ever chosen what you needed over what would’ve numbed you, even for a second, you know.
And that’s power.

There’s no medal for unlearning self-abandonment. No round of applause for crawling out of bed when your motivation is at zero. No one sees that work. But you do. Your body does. Your future self absolutely does.

If motivation’s been running on fumes and discipline feels like dragging a dead horse uphill, Weaponized Daydreaming might explain why you’re still moving anyway.

The Fear That Still Lingers

If you’ve ever lost the weight and gained it back, you know that fear doesn’t vanish. It just changes into better outfits.

Every off-day whispers, "See, you're slipping."
Every skipped workout dares you to lose everything.
It's beyond a routine now...it's armor.

But I choose not to live in fear. I do stay aware because the version of me that used to quit when it got hard still tries to nudge me, but she’s doing it from the backseat now. She doesn’t get to drive anymore.

You don’t need a new plan; you just need consistency. Again. And again. And again. Of course, just when I feel like I’ve found my stride, life finds a way to keep things humbling.

Not even an hour after I published Let the Record Show, feeling all proud of myself for being ready to “handle” turning the big 5-0, came the humbler:
AARP mailer.
Right there in the mailbox, like a bitchslap from the universe

Nothing keeps you grounded like geezer mail, that’s for sure.
Naturally, I texted a pic of it to my mom because if I had to suffer that image, so did she.

What’s Different Now

This time, I’m not trying to earn approval.
To borrow the words of the unbothered and criminally underrated Noxeema Jackson from Too Wong Foo:
“Approval neither desired nor required”  

Same.

I’m not chasing applause. I’m just taking care of my present and future self.
Simple as that.

I don’t get up at ass o'clock in the morning to punish myself. I do it because I’m finally living like someone who is worth taking care of. Even on the shaky days, I show up. Not because it’s easier, but because I’ve seen what happens when I don’t.

The Weight That Stays

So yes, I still carry weight, just not the kind that shows up on a scale.
It’s the weight of consistency and accountability. It’s the mental weight of choosing what serves you instead of what soothes you. And doing that on repeat

But it’s also strength. Grit. Pride. The kind you only notice when you realize the hard thing doesn’t feel quite so hard anymore.

If you’re carrying it too, I see you. You’re not alone. You got this.

The Full Circle

Lately, I’ve started catching glimpses of joy that feel… old in the best way. Familiar. Like a piece of myself finally catching up.

For my birthday, we ended up at a very cool retro pinball arcade in town. It had flashing lights, old-school arcade games, and a two-player Guitar Hero setup. My daughter and I immediately grabbed those plastic guitars and played until our arms were stiff.

That night was a full-circle reminder that even when everything changes, some parts of you are still there, just waiting to be invited back in.

Final Words

So yeah, let ‘em float.
Let 'em stage their photo ops and call it progress. I’ll be enjoying the ensuing memes from this painfully curated performance.

So many of us are down here doing real work. And while there may never be headlines or applause, there’s something better for us:
A life that finally feels like it’s ours, because we made it that way.

If you’re carrying the kind of weight that no one sees, you’re not failing. You're just doing the stuff no one talks about.
This is the work that counts, even if no one cheers.  

Keep going.

If you’ve carried weight that wasn’t yours to begin with, The Silence Was a Choice might feel unsettlingly familiar.

Glad you made it to the bottom. Fuel the words if you're into that kind of thing.