New Year, New Me—Being Healthy Doesn’t Just Mean Being Thin…

January 1, 2018 and life was good. I had just had a great night-out in Clapham with Jane, one of my best friends. We worked together at a large FMCG company, in a team consisting of predominately 40+ males, and we had bonded as 20 somethings trying to navigate our way to success in the early stages of our careers. I was loving my job, and got on well with my colleagues. My personal life was positive: I had a great relationship with my boyfriend, a vast group of friends, and a close relationship with my family, as I was still living at home.

But as I looked back at the photos from the night before, Jane and I in various bars doing ridiculous poses, and making friends with strangers—I had a conflicted feeling. I felt happy and laughed to myself as I reminisced over the antics from the night before, but I also found myself acknowledging another feeling, a less pleasant one.

I stared at the photos of myself, and something just didn’t sit right, I decided I needed to make a change as I looked at myself in the mirror. I decided that the answer to my problem was my stomach, and that if my stomach was flatter, more toned—I would be happier. I was going to get into the best shape I had ever been in, so that I could love the way I looked, wear all the outfits I had never felt good enough in, and ultimately, feel better about myself.

I have never been a person to do things by half, once I have decided I am going to do something, I am committed, unwavering, and determined. By the end of that week: I had signed myself up for a personal trainer, heavily researched Keto and Paleo diets, and began scheduling the gym into my up coming weeks.

What followed was months of regimented healthy eating and working out. Low carb, high protein, HIIT classes, and a shit tonne of crunches. The weight came off quickly, and I could see the difference in my figure, and in my clothing. I loved that I could now wear crop tops with confidence around my stomach being out. I loved that I needed to buy a smaller size in my jeans. I loved the attention from my friends on instagram, as well as in person, fueling my feeling of success around my flatter stomach. But like anything, what starts off as novel, eventually becomes normal, and gradually I started to find new flaws in my new “amazing figure.” I scrutinised my figure in the mirror daily, and always managed to find an element I could improve. It kept me working on myself, pushing myself to do more, and to progress further to a better version of myself.

Fast forward to December, and the 2018 work Christmas party, sat at the dinner table with my colleagues: “Don’t you think you need to stop now? You’ve lost a lot of weight.” “Is everything okay? You’re looking very thin.” “I’ve been in the same place you are, you need to eat something.”

It’s funny how fine the line is between love and hate, between good and bad. What had started out as a positive and enjoyable “New Year, New Me” journey, gradually, without me even realising, changed into something negative, obsessive, and fundamentally unhealthy. The irony isn’t wasted on me—that by pursuing a healthier and happier version of myself, I actually ended up less healthy than I was when I started, and definitely not any happier. Now, like anything in life, people only see the tip of the iceberg—the physical changes in what you look like, say and do. Deep beneath all of that are the building blocks, adding up piece by piece, and precariously balancing like a Jenga tower beneath you.

From June 2018 was when everything had shifted. Jane had left the company to go traveling. We had a new director of our department who, whether he realised it or not, belittled me and my work at every turn, which completely diminished my self confidence, and my enjoyment of my job. I had LOVED my job, I was valued in my team, I had an expanse of responsibility, and I had progressed very quickly from entry level to assistant manager. So for my job to change from something I enjoyed, something I looked forward to, to something that left me feeling anxious and regularly in tears—was heartbreaking to say the least. Over the next few months I knew the time had come for me to find a new job, but the process was long, and by August I found myself trapped in a role that I had grown to hate, and I was unable to find a new role to move into. The situation felt all consuming, and I had no way to fix it myself. I felt trapped, I had no control.

So, I shifted my focus to what I could control. I could control my food. I could control my body. And so I did. But the tone had changed—it was no longer an exciting process of self improvement, it was now an obsessive and relentless lifestyle where I was essentially keeping myself prisoner in these rules I had constructed for myself.

I had to work out EVERYDAY—tiredness was not an excuse, and if life happened—which meant I couldn’t work out that day—I would desperately search my calendar to ensure I would make up for it later in the week. Double gym session? Weekend class? There had to be a way.

Tracking calories was essential. No more than 800 calories a day. Obsessing over calorie counting apps, and reading the back of packs before eating anything. Two oreos? That’s 100 calories right there. Ham sandwich? 350 calories, are you sure you should eat that?

If I didn’t follow through on either of these things? I was a failure. I had failed, and my opinion of myself immediately altered to reflect that. It was, in hindsight, exhausting. But at the time, I didn’t see it for what it was. I saw myself as highly organised, and dedicated to achieving my goals. I saw myself as healthy.

It wasn’t until after that evening in December, at the work Christmas party, when I actually went away and processed the words from my concerned colleagues that I really looked at myself. I had spent three months simply focused on my stomach, wanting to achieve that instagram model stomach that I could be proud of. It wasn’t till now that I actually stepped back, and looked at my whole self. Although I had achieved the “dream stomach” it had been at the detriment of the rest of my body. My face looked hollow and sad, my shoulders were bony, and my silhouette had lost all curves and shape. And the biggest problem at all? I actually didn’t feel any happier about myself having achieved this superficial goal.

In the same New Year, New Me approach, I decided I needed to make some changes for the better. I began investing the same energy and commitment I had been using for the gym and my diet into a deeper self care routine. I didn't stop going to the gym, but I did work to adjust my attitude towards what it means to be healthy. Through a couple of months of counseling, great support from my friends and family, and A LOT of books about mindfulness, gratitude, and positive thinking—I gradually managed to reset my way of thinking.

I began focusing on the positive. Fearne Cotton’s book Happy did wonders for acknowledging my ways of thinking and daily routines to help me find small ways to change my outlook for the better. I spent less time on social media, and less time comparing myself to others. I began saying what I was thankful for out-loud to myself at the start of each day, as well as keeping a journal to process what had been challenging each day, but to also remind myself that there were so many things that were positive. This combined with meditation really helped me to not get caught up in negative thought processes.

I worked to change the way I spoke to myself. Clara Amfo wrote a beautiful piece in Life Lessons from Remarkable Women about Being Your Own Best Friend, and that really resonated with me. I am a great friend, and I would never speak to my friends the way that I was speaking to myself. I would never make my friend feel bad for what she ate, or tell her she had failed if she didn't go to the gym. So why would I speak to myself like that? I began correcting my internal dialogue with myself so that gradually I would grow compassion for myself, rather than beating myself up.

I also worked on changing the way I thought about my body. I was focusing purely on the aesthetics of my body, and pushing it to its absolute extremes to try and alter that aesthetic. Our bodies are amazing, but I was taking mine for granted. I saw a post on Alice Liveing’s instagram about focusing on Strong instead of Skinny. So I started finding ways to change my perception of my body. To reconnect with it, and appreciate the amazing things it could do for me. I began ice skating lessons, and found it amazing how my body and muscle memory helped me to go from clinging to the wall to skating confidently within a few weeks.

I changed my attitude towards the gym: making it optional, rather than compulsory. It was okay to listen to my body, and to acknowledge that it needs a rest rather than pushing it to a breaking point and exhausting myself. I went back to Personal Training, but made my focus clear to my trainer, and we began working with weight training. It was such a rewarding feeling to see how strong my body could be, and to see the progress week by week as I was lifting heavier, and getting better technically. This also helped to alter my relationship with food. To be strong, and to have energy—you have to eat more. So I stopped seeing my food as a negative, and started seeing it as fuel. Changing my attitude of working out so I can eat to eating so I can work out. This was a big milestone for me. I am now the strongest I have ever been, I eat what I enjoy, and I have a much better perception and appreciation for my body.

I think it's so important for us to share our experiences of wellbeing with each other. So many people go through the exact same things, but feel so alone and don't reach out for help. I was extremely lucky to be surrounded by positive people who loved and supported me through a period where I struggled to love myself, and I am eternally grateful to them for that. Self love and self care are constant works in progress, and it takes effort. Putting aside time each day to stop, to check in with yourself, and be present in the moment. You owe it to yourself to do that.