Be Gentle. Be Patient. Be Kind.

Breathes in deeply… and exhales.

This is a journey, not a race, my dear one. Take it slow. Work through it. Let your body guide you, not shame or urgency. It’s crucial to remember that each step you take is a step toward healing, and healing is not merely about the destination, but about the lessons learned along the way. Each moment spent nurturing your body and mind brings you closer to a deeper understanding of yourself.

I needed to write this today—not just to share my progress but to remind myself that healing doesn’t always look like progress on the outside. And sometimes, the person who needs to hear these words most is the one writing them. Through this process of self-reflection, I recognize the essential truth that we all might struggle with; the internal battle can often be more challenging than the external one. The fluctuations of our journey can seem invisible to the world, yet they are so palpable within us.

I’ll be honest: it’s hard for me to see the difference sometimes. The mirror plays tricks on me. There’s this distortion I’ve lived with for most of my life—where even in moments of progress, I can’t always see the changes. The image staring back feels frozen in time, like I’m looking at the same version of myself I saw in February… even though I know, logically, that’s no longer true. The mind has a way of clinging to old narratives, but it’s vital to challenge those perceptions and acknowledge the growth that is happening beneath the surface.

That’s why the photos help. That’s why writing this helps. These tangible forms of reflection allow me to track my journey visually and emotionally. They hold evidence of progress that feels real and undeniable. When I look back at February and March, I see a body screaming for help. A body barely maintaining on a cocktail of medications, teetering on the edge of physical and emotional exhaustion.

A body fighting to let go of Rinvoq as I tried transitioning to Tremfya (which I started in January). That change took a toll—it takes time to detox from powerful meds, and I didn’t feel better overnight. In fact, I felt worse for a while, grappling with side effects and the uncertainty of my choice. But now… now, I see a body still in recovery, yes, but no longer screaming. A body holding on. A mind that’s clearer. A presence that’s returned. And that matters.

Looking back, I realize that each hardship has been a stepping stone, leading the way toward something more profound. The journey hasn’t been easy, but it has granted me resilience and strength that I never knew I possessed. It was March when I made the leap to the weight loss shots. A desperate, hopeful leap. I already eat a heavily restricted diet. My mobility is limited, and that creates an everyday challenge in figuring out how to nourish myself adequately while managing my health.

I was terrified that if I didn’t do something soon, something disastrous would happen to my health. The urgency felt almost like a weight on my chest, amplifying my fears and doubts. Yet, I decided to take that leap, and honestly? That decision may have saved me. It marked a turning point: a choice to prioritize my well-being and make a commitment to myself that I was determined to see through. This journey isn’t linear or simple, but it is mine, and I am learning to embrace every twist and turn along the way. The future feels uncertain, yet filled with potential, and I’m here for it.

I started with Zepbound, but due to CVS and insurance complications that arose unexpectedly, I had to switch over to Wegovy out of necessity. I had my first shot last Saturday, and so far so good; I’m cautiously optimistic as I navigate this new journey. Let’s hope we can still maintain the weight loss without too many issues arising throughout the process, as I know that the journey can often be unpredictable. While I am hopeful and keeping a positive mindset, I also feel uneasy since this is no longer the drug that I had initially picked out for myself, which felt like a personal choice in my wellness journey. But really, what can one do when backed up against the wall by pharmaceutical companies and insurance companies, who often dictate our options and limit our choices? It can be incredibly frustrating to feel like my health decisions are being made for me rather than by me, but I have to trust this new path may still lead me to my goals—albeit in a different way than I had envisioned.

My Numbers So Far

CW (Current Weight): 202.1 lbs — as of July 24th, 2025

SW (Starting Weight on GLP-1s): 246 lbs — March 2025

Highest Weight (Before Tremfya): 256 lbs — December 2024

GW (Goal Weight): ~175 lbs (but honestly, health and mobility matter more than a number)

I still have a long way to go. But I’m learning to track progress differently now. In moments of clarity, I often find solace and strength in recognizing the small wins that accumulate over time.

In days when my joints don’t scream as loudly, I appreciate the relief and the freedom to move without discomfort. Those days become milestones in my journey, reminding me that healing is often a gradual process.

In photos where I see my eyes shining a little brighter, I can celebrate the joy that reflects my growth. It’s these subtle changes that signify not just physical improvements, but emotional and spiritual awakenings as well.

In clothes fitting differently, I discover a new sense of self. The way a shirt drapes or how a pair of pants feels can be a testament to the hard work and dedication I’ve poured into this journey. Every adjustment in fit is a tangible sign of progress.

And in the quiet victories like walking farther or sleeping better, I realize the enormous impact of these seemingly simple achievements. Each step forward, no matter how small, adds to the tapestry of my life, making every inch worthwhile.

To anyone walking this path too: I see you. I honor the work you’re doing. The struggles, the triumphs, the moments of doubt, and reflection — they all matter.

Be gentle. Be patient. Be kind—with your body, with your mind, with your heart. Recognize that each of these aspects needs nurturing as you navigate your journey.

You are allowed to change slowly. Just as a seed takes time to break through the soil, your transformation will unfold in its own time.

You are allowed to celebrate the messy middle. It’s in this space that you find resilience and develop an understanding of your own strengths. Embrace the chaos and imperfections, for they are integral parts of your story, leading you toward the light of your aspirations.

We are still becoming. And that is sacred.

Much love and many blessings,

Mrs. B