People keep asking me how I managed to lose weight and not completely spiral during multiple surgeries, stress, chronic pain, financial chaos, recovery, and enough emotional nonsense to qualify for my own reality show.
Honestly? Some days I’m not even sure myself.
What I do know is this: I stopped treating healthy eating like punishment.
That changed everything.
In the past, I always thought “weight loss” meant eating sad little portions, pretending I liked dry chicken, and trying to survive on foods that tasted like disappointment and printer paper.
This time, I approached things differently.
I started rebuilding comfort foods instead of banning them.
Instead of giving up ice cream, I learned how to make high-protein Ninja Creami creations. Instead of cutting out pasta completely, I found protein pasta and started experimenting. Instead of pretending dips and casseroles didn’t exist, I figured out ways to make them higher protein and more balanced.
I basically became a mad scientist fueled by Greek yogurt, ranch seasoning, protein powder, and pure stubbornness.
And weirdly? That worked.
One of the biggest things that helped me was protein. I added it to almost everything:
- Greek yogurt
- Fairlife milk
- protein powder
- lighter cheeses
- protein pasta
- high-protein snacks
- homemade versions of comfort food
I stopped aiming for perfection and started aiming for “better.”
That mindset probably saved me.
Because recovery is messy.
There were days I couldn’t move much. Days I was exhausted. Days I was stressed out of my mind. Days where emotional eating absolutely would have happened in the past.
But this time, instead of swinging between restriction and total chaos, I focused on building “safe foods” that still felt comforting.
That meant things like:
- protein bowls
- high-protein desserts
- creamy pasta remakes
- wraps
- dips
- casseroles
- volume foods that actually filled me up
I also tracked my food honestly. Not perfectly. Honestly.
Using Max Factor helped keep me aware without pretending calories magically disappeared because life was stressful. Even on rough days, tracking kept me connected to reality instead of drifting into the “I already messed up, so who cares” mindset.
Another huge factor? Tirzepatide helped quiet the food noise.
That doesn’t mean it magically fixed everything. But it helped lower the constant mental obsession with food enough for me to make better decisions consistently instead of feeling like I was fighting my own brain 24/7.
But honestly, one of the weirdest things that helped me the most was humor.
I joked through almost everything.
I made memes. Created ridiculous recipe names. Talked about emotional support casseroles. Called Workers’ Comp “RehershComp.” Turned recovery meals into content. Built recipe ideas at midnight like some exhausted little protein goblin with a heating pad and a Ninja Creami.
Humor gave me somewhere to put the stress besides food.
And maybe most importantly, I never mentally went back to the old version of myself.
Even during surgeries and setbacks, I still saw myself as someone trying. Someone adapting. Someone rebuilding.
Not someone who had “failed.”
That matters more than people realize.
Because the truth is, weight loss maintenance during hard seasons usually isn’t about perfection. It’s about refusing to fully quit.
Some days were high-protein meal prep days.
Some days were “survive with yogurt and sarcasm” days.
Both still counted.
And honestly? I’m proud of that.
Not because I did everything perfectly.
But because I kept finding ways to fight for myself, even when life got heavy.