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I’m at home in my body. Finally.

In the midst of having panic attacks near daily when I joined the startup at the beginning of the year, I found myself in the bathroom, staring myself straight in the eyes. Seeking. Searching. Looking for some kind of light. Some kind of life. Some sign that my soul was still there, somewhere.

I saw a glimmer.

A slight sparkle.

And every day since then, I’ve taken a moment to truly see myself. To explore the depths of what lies behind this shell, this body, this ever-changing vessel of which I’ve been a passenger.

When I needed courage to make a tough decision, I ran to the bathroom mirror, looked deep to my own eyes, and found the strength.

When I finally chose myself for the first time in a long time, I ran to the bathroom mirror. The sparkle was brighter.

So I kept choosing myself. And I kept running to the mirror. More sparkle. More life.

On Thursday, I surpassed the 60-pound mark of total weight lost since I was diagnosed With Type 2 Diabetes last September. In all reality, it’s probably more like 70 since I had lost some weight leading up to the diagnosis, but still.

I haven’t seen these numbers on the scale since the late 90s. And I KNOW the number doesn’t matter. I’ve always known that. And now I BELIEVE it.

I looked in the mirror on Thursday after I got off the scale, right in my eyes. My eyes looked DIFFERENT.
I backed up from the mirror.

Everything looks different.

And I realized, in that moment, that I’m home.

This body is my home. And I love what I’ve done with the place. 

I don’t need to search or seek for signs of life in my eyes, because I’m actually, truly, finally living.

Not just surviving.

Living.

Big difference.

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