The menus hadn’t even closed before I blurted out my order: a salad. It was my way of throwing my friends off the scent, as if a plate of lettuce could erase the truth and hide my late-night snack binging. But deep down, I knew the only person I was fooling was myself.
At 16, about 4 years ago, standing at 5’9″ and 120 pounds overweight, I felt powerless — not just over my body, but over the insecurities that dictated how I moved through the world.
Weighing over 300 pounds was the elephant in every room I walked into, and most days I felt like the elephant myself. I vividly remember sitting in doctors’ offices and being told my BMI was too high, but every time their words felt clinical and detached. What I felt each day was far more immediate, as every choice I made revolved around trying to shrink: grabbing something small at restaurants, ducking out of photos, hesitating to speak up in class for fear of drawing attention.
I was exhausted, yet trying to change felt even more overwhelming. I hoped everything would be different in college.
I tried to make changes when college started
When I arrived at the University of Massachusetts Dartmouth, the thought of starting fresh collided with the reality that I was still carrying the same weight, physically and emotionally.
Watching everyone else carve out their independence made me realize that if I wanted to take advantage of this new beginning, I couldn’t keep living in the shadow of my body insecurities. That recognition, that no one could make this change for me, was the first real decision I ever made on my own.
The process was messy. I researched and experimented, failed and adjusted, over and over again. I cut out seconds, swapped soda for water, and reminded myself that a slice of cake today would not help me tomorrow.
At first, it felt impossible. I failed often, sometimes in secret, but each time that I pulled myself back on track, I chipped away at the belief that I was incapable of discipline.
I finally noticed the changes that I was looking for
At first, the changes felt so small they seemed pointless, but gradually I noticed patterns forming. My cravings dulled, my routines steadied, and I began to trust myself in situations that once felt impossible.
I came to understand that progress was not a straight line; it curved, dipped, and sometimes reversed. The true test was whether I could keep going even when no one else was forcing me to.
Success didn’t come as dramatic numbers on a scale but in quieter victories: having the energy to walk across campus without losing my breath, joining a conversation instead of hanging back, and looking in the mirror without immediately turning away.
Everything I learned during my transformation made me a better college student
The discipline and resilience I built through that journey have carried into every corner of my college life. Balancing coursework, adjusting to independence, and navigating friendships all required the same patience and persistence I first practiced at the table.
I approached long nights of studying the way I approached exercise: one choice at a time, knowing consistency mattered more than perfection. I learned to prioritize my well-being, to recognize when to push forward and when to rest, and to trust that even when progress didn’t look linear, it was still happening.
With the past in the rearview mirror, the desire for change and knowledge feeds my hunger that was once covered up by sweets and treats. My curiosity for more only grew.
The skills I have obtained before and during my transformation have taught me to believe that change is good. It pushes you to grow into the person you are meant to be. The hardships, growth, and setbacks have helped build my mindset to continue pushing myself.
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