Each morning, I stand in front of the mirror.

Not with confidence… but with criticism.

I stare at the weight I’ve gained. The fat rolls that weren’t there before. The deep, permanent stretch marks that look more like scars than skin. I look at my face and think, “How did I let it get this far?”

Then come the thoughts:
How can I help other people reach their fitness goals when I don’t even look the part myself?

The truth? I’m human. And lately, I’ve been holding a lot.

Behind the Scenes: What You Don’t See Online

Over the past 8 months, I’ve been juggling a whirlwind of life changes, physical pain, and emotional battles.
It started with an ankle injury that still randomly swells and throbs. And then after years of bouncing between doctors who couldn’t give me answers, I finally felt seen… not by my primary doctor, but by my OBGYN.

I described what happens when I go too long without food or push myself too hard:

• Vision loss

• Vomiting

• Total collapse

She asked if I’ve ever been tested for Celiac disease.
For the first time in years, someone asked the right questions.

And suddenly, things started to make sense.

The Weight I’ve Been Carrying

I didn’t gain 20 lbs because I stopped caring.
I gained it because I was surviving.

Here’s what most people didn’t see:

• My daughter was arrested and indicted. We had to bail her out and face the legal system with a public defender who wasn’t doing his job.

• After my half marathon, I got sick. Then we were blindsided: our landlord sold the home we’d been renting for 5.5 years.

• We had to find a new place....fast...and if that doesn't cause enough stress we had to raise $4,000 just to move.

Joel and I had only been dating 4 months. Doubt, fear, and anxiety wrapped themselves around my chest every day.
What if we couldn’t find a place? What if we weren’t approved? What if this new relationship collapsed under the pressure?

Then something divine happened:
My dad drove 7 hours to hand-deliver the money we needed to move.
I didn’t even ask. He just showed up. I cried and thanked God and the Universe because that moment reminded me that even when everything feels like it’s falling apart… you’re still held.

The Weight of a Mother's Love

But the chaos didn’t end.

We moved during the holidays. I was still recovering physically.
We were navigating new dynamics, new bills, and my dog Meatball’s ongoing health issues.

And then my daughter’s case got worse.

She’s facing four felony charges… not because she sold drugs, but because she was simply there.
Wrong place. Wrong time.
I’ve reviewed the evidence. I’ve seen the lies in the grand jury transcripts.
She wad only been talking with that person for four days. She met him online. She had no idea what she was walking into.
And now? She might go to jail for something she didn’t do.

As a mother, the helplessness is suffocating.

A New Year, a New Beginning Still Carrying the Load

We moved into our new place on 12/31/24.
We popped champagne on our balcony at midnight, Welcoming 2025 in a new home, with new hope.
It was beautiful. But even beauty doesn’t erase pain.

In the months since, we’ve welcomed my son home from Japan.
I’ve watched Joel and my son meet and cohabitate for the first time.
My son then tells us he will be leaving for 6 weeks to meet a girl in Mexico and I support him even though part of me still wanted to protect him from every unknown.

Meanwhile, I’ve been:

• Fighting through physical pain

• Managing unpredictable health symptoms

• Trying to build my business

• Battling constant self-doubt

• Missing workouts

• Staring at my body in frustration

• And reminding myself: comparison is the thief of joy

What Keeps Me Going

I say this often:
“I am God’s warrior.”

But sometimes? Even warriors cry in the shower.

What keeps me going is choosing gratitude, every single day even when it’s forced.

I choose to believe:

• That I’m not behind.

• That I’m not disqualified because of my size.

• That I’m not broken because I’ve been struggling.

I choose to believe that my story matters, not in spite of the hard parts, but because of them.

If You’re Still Here, Thank You

I didn’t write this for sympathy.
I wrote this because you need to know: you’re not alone.

If you’ve gained weight, feel stuck, or question your worth because your body doesn’t “look the part”…
If life has knocked you down and the mirror has become a weapon instead of a reflection…

Please hear me:

You are still worthy.
You still matter.
And this?
This is just a chapter not the ending.