It was July of 2020, we were in the middle of a pandemic, I was a first-time mom, a newer wife, I had just started a new career, and we were in the middle of buying a house.

At around 7 months postpartum I was at my all-time highest weight of 281 pounds. I had always been big and never felt like I suffered in the confidence department when it came to my appearance, and besides mild sleep apnea, I had not been diagnosed with any serious health conditions. I was at greater risk of complications if I contracted Covid and the worried me. I see now that I was probably dealing with postpartum anxiety, and I wanted to do what I could to be at a healthier for my daughter. The pandemic gave me more time than ever to listen to inspiring podcasts and TED talks, turn on worship music, journal, pray, and more. As my mind was being transformed it no longer felt comfortable to continue in some of my unhealthier ways. Working remotely, I was able to exercise during my lunch break right from the comfort of home, and it was easier to avoid fast food and restaurants.

I had become a vegetarian eight years prior so I continued down that route and cut out processed foods and introduced more fruits and vegetables to my diet, as well as intermittent fasting. Before I knew it, six months had passed and I was down 100 pounds. I watched my jean size go down from a size 24, to a 12, to a 2—and it felt unreal. A few more months went by and I was down another 30 pounds. Pretty soon, I was drowning even in size XS tops and nothing seemed to fit quite right. My collar bone and hip bones were protruding, family and friends would comment and tell me that I was getting too small, but at this point I had a goal that I wanted to achieve: reaching a healthy BMI of 154 pounds. But the closer I got to that goal, the weaker I looked and felt. It got to the point that I would go not just hours—but days—without eating. I would feel lightheaded and dizzy and still do a HIIT (High Intensity Interval Training) workout. Then, I would go to gatherings with family and friends, and not even touch a fruit platter or salad because I was trying to reach this goal that would make me “healthy” and feel fully confident. However, after reaching my goal, the insecurities were still there and the fatigue and weakness from not eating well, and having a strict exercise routine, made me feel far from healthy.

I maintained my weight for several months and then became pregnant with my 2^nd child, which honestly probably saved my life. Of course, I ate every day of my pregnancy in a well-balanced way, started introducing foods to my diet that I had originally eliminated because I had labeled them as “unhealthy” like bread, rice, potatoes, and pasta. I worked out throughout my pregnancy but instead of doing HIIT workouts everyday (which is not recommended) and working out almost up to 2 hours daily, I would work out anywhere from 30 to 45 mins. Throughout the course of my pregnancy I gained over 60 pounds, and now, at almost two years postpartum, I’ve been able to lose a little over half of that weight. I can no longer fit into my size 2 jeans, but my size 8’s and 10’s fit just fine. It’s a stretch to fit into an XS top, but my medium tops are nice and comfortable.

I’ve never felt happier, or healthier. I realize now that I can be healthy and curvy, just as someone can be skinny and be unhealthy. My confidence lies in the beauty of my stretch marks and the dimples in my thighs, knowing that my body carried two beautiful healthy children into this world and it sustains me with enough energy to be physically and mentally present with them and create memories. Through therapy and prayer, I am healing. I’m glad that my children know that exercise is a part of our daily routine, but I’m also glad that I can take them for a walk in the park on a hot summer day, and not shame them or myself for wanting to stop for ice cream on our way home. I’m glad I can enjoy a slice of their birthday cake in peace, and that I’m no longer comparing my body with the body of the other moms at the playground. I no longer want to shrink myself to fit unrealistic beauty standards set by a society whose views are clouded by a history of racism, misogyny, and discrimination, and simply wanting to make a profit off of our insecurities.

So now, I am no longer waiting to reach a certain size to wear the clothes I want to wear, do the things I want to do, or go the places I want to go. Now, my focus isn’t losing weight, it’s lifting the weight: lifting the weight of societal expectations, of perfectionism, of insecurity off of my shoulders, and being free.

It’s not about what I look like, it’s about what I feel, and how I make others feel. I want to be a vessel of love, for myself and for others. How about you?