Doing It Scared

Finally sharing my weight story

This is a post I’ve wanted to write for a while, but I’ve been scared to share it. I kept telling myself the timing wasn’t right. And it possibly still isn’t.

In honor of new chapters—for so many of us—the upcoming powerful June Strawberry Moon, and my new mantra of “doing it scared” as I close out one decade and step into another… I’m choosing to make now the perfect time to tell you this story.

It may sound like a post about weight loss. In reality, it’s about change. And agency.

It’s a post about your story.

Let’s begin.

For the first third of my life, I was a chubby kid. Not fat, but definitely bigger and plumper than most of my peers. I wasn’t athletic or particularly active. Plus I’ve loved eating from the day I was born.

In the second half of high school, I started working out for real—not to lose weight, but to help manage the stress and anxiety that came with big life decisions and transitions. I found things that felt fun: step aerobics, weight training, cardio machines while flipping through People magazine (remember that?).

That habit stuck because it was done without a goal, but for immediate satisfaction as I was having fun doing it. I’m sure that it was part of how for nearly 30 years, my body lived in a comfortable, drama-free weight range. I liked being active and strong. I kept enjoying food. I didn’t really think about my weight. It was what it was.

Fast forward to a couple of years before the pandemic, I decided to try a new way of eating — which turned out to be a restrictive diet. Not because I needed to lose weight—but just to see if I could. You know me—I love a good challenge.

Long story short: I lost 10 pounds I didn’t need to lose. I felt victorious for exactly a day and a half. It was fun to meet a goal. It was fun to do something new. Nothing else in my life changed—except the number on the scale. Literally, everything else was exactly the same outside of that number including my clothes that just felt looser.

Of course, I wasn’t going to stay restrictive forever. I love food too much to keep weighing, measuring, avoiding. So I started eating normally again—my normal.

The weight came back immediately. And then a little more than comfortable pounds piled on and stayed on.

What I didn’t realize then was that I’d fallen into one of the most common cycles of dieting: restriction, short-term results, then rebound weight gain—often with interest. When I finally understood what had happened, I was crushed.

How did I not know?
How did I fall for it?
And now what?

I spent the next few years researching, questioning, trying to get back to that peaceful, easy relationship I used to have with food and my body. But the noise in my head was loud.

I discovered intuitive eating and self compassion. I started practicing what I preached.

Eventually, I softened. I stopped the mental tug-of-war and let it be.

Because here’s the truth: there was never anything wrong with me—or my weight—even if it was more than I was used to.

I was healthy. My life was full. No one treated me differently. I was my one and only critic.

But it was true—I didn’t quite feel at home in my own skin. That discomfort was worth noticing—not as a flaw to fix, but as an invitation. To listen more deeply. To honor the changes. To meet myself where I was. I was leaning on being comfortable with the discomfort.

Then, a few months ago, without trying, things shifted.

I was working on my 50 before 50 list.

If you’re new here, I turn 50 this September! Out of both excitement and a little dread, I made a list of things I hadn’t done yet, things I wanted to try, and challenges that sounded fun.

So far, I’ve checked off things like:
🎢 Riding a rollercoaster
🧘🏻‍♀️ Practice 108 sun salutations on the summer solstice
🧊 Sitting in an ice bath for over 2 minutes
📵 30 days off social media 🇯🇵 Studied a new language

Then came all the walking:
👟 Walking a half marathon (check)
👣 Getting in 40,000 steps in one day (check)
🚶🏻‍♀️ And now… a full 26.2-mile walk is on the horizon

Naturally, I started training. I found a walking buddy with a similar worldview and goals. We began walking—a lot. Having a meaningful challenge, doing it with a fun accountability partner, and noticing how much stronger I felt made the whole process not just enjoyable, but surprisingly spiritual and restorative.

Somewhere along the way, the weight I had gained after that restrictive phase began to come off. Gently. Gradually. Easily.

I wasn’t surprised by the change. But I was pleasantly surprised by how it happened.

There was no tracking. No calorie counting. No “off-limits” foods.

I just walked. I ate intuitively. I enjoyed my meals. I moved my body with joy.

Over time, my body settled into the weight range that feels like home again.

So why am I telling you all this right now?

Because I know so many of you—my patients, clients, friends and strangers—are feeling frustrated with your bodies, your weight, and how you feel in your skin.

I’m not sharing this to tell you to lose weight.

If anything, I want to encourage you to pause — to find peace with where you are first—especially if you are already healthy.

I’m not saying you need to weigh what you did ten years ago. Our bodies change. That’s just a fact.

I’m sharing this because I want you to know:

I’ve been there.
I am there.
I have the same voices in my head. The same doubts. The same frustrations and fluctuations.

And I want to gently remind you: lasting change—especially around health or weight—only sticks when it comes from a place of ease, curiosity, and joy.

It won’t be sustainable if it comes from restriction, shame, or desperation.

I am the first to tell you that feeling at home in your body is everything.
But it’s not about the number on the scale. It’s about how you feel inside your body… and how at peace you are in your mind.

So if you are wanting to weigh less, ask yourself:

✨ Do I really want to lose these extra pounds?
✨ If so, do I like my reasons why?
✨ Can I make changes from a place of compassion and fun instead of pressure and punishment?

Because yes—if nothing changes, nothing changes.

The how matters. A lot.

I hope my story gives you a sense of peace—and maybe a bit of inspiration.

I hope it helps you move forward (or stay still) with gentleness and clarity.

Maybe you’ll decide you don’t need to do anything at all.

Maybe you’ll choose to make a change—but you’ll do it with joy, patience, and self-love.

Maybe this post will help you reframe your own story.

Maybe it will remind you that even when it doesn’t feel like the right time… it still can be.

Maybe this is your moment.

And maybe—just maybe—you can do it scared.

You are worth it!

If there’s any way I can support your journey, you know where to find me.

With love and gratitude,
xoxo,
Kit

P.S. Schedule your next holistic acupuncture session here.