If you missed them…
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
The Finale…Ok, not really - but you get it.
There’s this assumption that once you’ve done the work — once you’ve healed your relationship with your body — everything just clicks.
That you’ll never have another bad body-image day, or that confidence becomes some permanent state you live in.
But that hasn’t been my experience.
This whole story — everything I’ve shared up to now — has really been about the middle.
The space between healing and finding a way to feel at home again.
The season where some days I felt strong, confident, capable… and other days I stood in my closet ready to cry because nothing felt right.
It was the season of grieving clothes that used to fit just right.
Of watching my body shift again, even after I thought I had “fixed” it.
Of fighting the urge to diet — not to shrink, but to escape the discomfort.
Because when your body feels foreign, it’s easy to start believing the old stories again.
But that season also taught me something powerful, instead of tearing myself apart…
I can choose compassion over punishment.
I can speak to myself the way I tell my clients to.
I can practice kindness when my brain says, “Start over.”
I can buy new clothes that feel great.
This is about me reclaiming my body—not by changing it, but by changing the way I respond to it.
And it’s a practice.
Body acceptance isn’t a destination. Especially in the society + culture we live in…
It’s not a light switch you flip after reading a few affirmations.
It’s a relationship. There are triggers.
And like every relationship—it needs attention, patience, and a hell of a lot of grace.
Here’s what I did that helped me heal through this:
There was a point in the last 4 years where I almost slipped back into that old pattern—trying to “fix” my body from a place of lack (“I’m broken” thinking.)
But deep down, I knew that wasn’t where my healing started. I’d made the decision for surgery from a place of empowerment, not lack, so I reminded myself of that —of what it feels like to take action from love, not desperation. From acceptance, not control.
And I used that same energy to move forward through this season, too.
Went shopping. Picked out new outfits that fit this season of life, focusing on how they made me feel.
Let hard body-image days exist without turning them into a shame spiral.
Reminded myself that this version of me—whatever size, shape, or season—is still worthy of love, attention, and respect. (And when I can’t find that for myself, I have Aaron, friends, or my coach to help remind me.)
Trusted that I don’t have to go back to “before” to feel like me again.
And when the thoughts creep in—as they still do—I remind myself: I don’t have to love my body every day to respect it. I can, in fact, have a shitty body-image day and still show up for myself— those are the days it matters most.
No matter where you are in your own story, here’s what I’ve learned:
Body image disruptions will happen. Even when you’ve done “the work.” Even when you think you’re past it. That doesn’t mean you’ve failed — it means you’re human.
Your body’s gonna keep changing — stress, hormones, kids, aging, life... all of it. Trying to control every little shift will drive you nuts. The goal isn’t control; it’s learning to stay connected to yourself through it.
Compassion always works better than control. Every time I meet myself with curiosity instead of criticism, the healing sticks a little longer.
You can make peace without pretending. Acceptance doesn’t mean you love every inch 24/7; it means you don’t abandon yourself when the old stories get loud.
The goal isn’t to chase “self love.” It’s learning to stick with yourself through the hard days — the way you’d show up for someone you actually give a shit about.
Looking back, this whole journey wasn’t about surgery or size — it was about awareness.
About seeing the stories I’d carried, the rules I’d outgrown, and the versions of myself I had to meet with compassion instead of criticism.
From breaking up with diet culture to rebuilding trust with my body — to realizing I could still struggle and still be okay — every part of it mattered.
It all led me here:
To a relationship with my body that’s realistic - which isn’t free from random struggles, but I’m also no longer chasing someone else’s ideal.
Because reclaiming my body was never about changing how it looked —
it was about finally changing how I see myself.
Maybe that’s what reclaiming really is—
not having all the answers, just refusing to abandon yourself while you figure it out.
Edited to add: I had an appt this morning after sharing this series and it reminded me that recently (as in the last 6 months) - I discovered that surgery can affect how your body functions as well. I’ve since discovered with my pelvic floor PT that some of my pelvic-floor dysfunction and bladder leakage we are working to correct are more than likely related to the tummy tuck — it created a disconnect between my breath, core engagement, and pelvic floor. It’s not something people talk about much, but it’s real — and it’s been part of my healing, too.
BONUS:
Change isn’t the problem.
It’s why you want it and how you’re approaching it that matters.
When you’re grounded in your “why,” and it’s coming from abundance — from love, curiosity, or wanting to feel more like yourself — change can be powerful.
But when it’s coming from lack, comparison, or pressure to “fix” something, it usually creates more noise, not peace.
So before you make a decision (whether it’s surgery, a new diet, or anything else that promises a “better” you), check in with yourself using these questions below.
Questions to Help You Get Honest About Your “Why”
Mindset Awareness Questions
Is your decision coming from empowerment or from old diet-culture stories - these can help you gain clarity.
What’s motivating me to want surgery right now — comfort, confidence, comparison, or something else?
Am I hoping this will change how I feel about myself, or simply how I look?
If my body never looked any different after this, what emotion would I be left with?
What am I expecting to feel once I’ve healed — peace, pride, relief, control?
Have I tried to create any of those feelings without changing my body first?
How do I talk to myself about my body right now — with kindness or criticism?
What part of my body image struggle is actually about me, and what part came from what I was taught to believe about “good” bodies?
Who do I imagine judging me (or praising me) if I do this?
What story do I think this surgery will let me rewrite?
Am I ready for the mental and emotional recovery that comes with the physical recovery?
Diet-Culture Awareness Questions
These questions will help you uncover whether the decision is being made from restriction, comparison, or external validation.
Am I currently tracking calories, macros, or portion sizes to “earn” this body?
Do I feel anxious when I eat certain foods or take a rest day?
Do I use the scale to decide if I’m “good” or “bad” that day?
Have I been chasing a “before and after” moment instead of long-term peace?
When I picture my “ideal body,” does she look like me — or like a filtered version of me?
Have I ever thought, “Once I get surgery, I’ll finally stay on track”?
Do I believe smaller automatically means healthier or happier?
Could I be open to wherever my natural body settles if it meant total food freedom and peace?
Would I still want surgery if nobody ever saw the results?
Do I feel like my worth would change if my body didn’t?
Final Reflection Prompt
What would it look like to make this decision from love and acceptance instead of fear or fixing?
