A few years ago, if you had told me I’d lose over 100 pounds, start healing my relationship with food, lower my A1C, work through trauma, and completely change how I viewed myself — I probably wouldn’t have believed you.
Not because I wasn’t capable.
Because somewhere along the way, I learned not to expect too much from myself.
Recently, someone close to me told me not to get rid of my clothes — because I might gain the weight back. And not long after, another family member told me I needed to stop trying to get down to a size 12, because I was never going to be that size again, and that I was losing too much weight.
Here’s what’s interesting.
Ten years ago, those comments would have crushed me. Today, they made me think.
Because neither comment was actually about my clothes. Neither comment was actually about my weight.
Those comments revealed something bigger. They revealed how easy it is for other people’s beliefs about us to quietly become our beliefs about ourselves.
And that’s what we’re talking about today — breaking the cycle of inherited family expectations, and learning how to separate who we truly are from who we’ve been told we are.
What We Inherit Without Realizing It
One of the hardest truths I’ve learned is that our families don’t just pass down eye color, holiday traditions, and recipes. Sometimes they pass down fear. Sometimes they pass down limitations. Sometimes they pass down stories about what’s possible — and what isn’t.
And most of the time, they don’t even realize they’re doing it.
The people in my life who said those things to me weren’t sitting around trying to destroy my confidence. Those comments came from their own experiences, their own disappointments, their own beliefs about what people can and can’t do. Hurt people hurt people — not out of malice, but because they’re speaking from their own wounds and limitations, even when they don’t mean to.
But here’s the thing: someone else’s fear doesn’t have to become your future.
At some point, we have to decide — am I living from my own experience, or am I living from a story someone else handed me?
Because I have evidence now. I have evidence that I can change. I have evidence that I can do hard things. I have evidence that I can heal.
And evidence is louder than opinions.
If This Sounds Familiar
If you’ve spent years hearing things like:
- “That’s just how you are.”
- “People like us don’t do that.”
- “You’re never going to change.”
- “Don’t get your hopes up.”
I want you to know something. Those may be familiar voices. But they don’t have to be your voice.
You are allowed to challenge beliefs you’ve inherited. You are allowed to outgrow expectations that were placed on you. You are allowed to become someone your family never imagined — because they’ve never seen what’s possible for you.
And maybe the greatest act of healing isn’t proving everyone wrong. Maybe it’s finally giving yourself permission to believe you’re capable of more.
This Was Never About a Number
Not because I’m trying to lose weight. Not because I’m chasing a number on a scale. Not because I’m trying to become a size 12.
I’m doing this because I’m choosing me. There’s no ending number goal here. I am losing weight, yes! Are my clothes getting bigger, and I’m having to get new ones, yes! But I’m not actually chasing those things. I’m chasing the feeling and life that this lifestyle of choosing me has been given me. I’m chasing something I grew up thinking wasn’t impossible, and I have it by the balls.
I’m choosing the version of me that feels stronger. The version of me that has energy. The version of me that takes care of herself. The version of me that heals instead of hides.
For years, I lived according to what everyone else thought I should be. Now I’m learning to become who I want to be.
And the truth is, I like me this way. I like the woman who keeps showing up. I like the woman who does hard things. I like the woman who is healing. I like the woman I’m becoming.
This isn’t about losing weight. It’s about choosing myself — over and over, even when the voices around me haven’t caught up yet.