Last spring, I was tired in a way that sleep didn’t fix. Not dramatic. Not rock bottom. Just… heavy. In my body. In my routines. In the quiet ways you don’t always say out loud.
Spring used to mean the same thing every year. Open the windows. Buy the flowers. Tell myself this is the season I get it together.
And then… nothing really changed.
This spring feels different. Not in a “new year, new me” kind of way. I’m still me. Same brain. Same personality. Same thoughts that spiral a little too fast sometimes.
But something shifted.
I lost 150 pounds.
And I wish I could tell you that means everything is easy now. That I wake up energized and go on effortless runs like one of those girls on Instagram.
I don’t.
I run for one minute. Then I walk. Then I question every life decision I’ve ever made. Then I do it again. And somehow… I end up finishing six miles.Six.Fucking.Miles.
Last spring, I couldn’t walk to the end of my driveway without thinking about how far it felt. Now I’m out here, moving my body in a way that version of me wouldn’t even recognize. And I think about her a lot. The version of me who said she was “fat and happy.” And maybe she was, in some ways. But if I’m honest… this version of me is actually happy. Not because of the weight. But because I trust myself more.
I walk my neighborhood with my daughter now, and it’s not this big, exhausting thing. We just go. We talk about nothing. We look at flowers like they’re the most interesting thing in the world. We point out dogs like it’s our job.
I’m not counting down the minutes until I can sit back down. I’m there. I hit 10,000 steps most days without it feeling like a punishment. It’s just… part of my life.
And the sun feels different.I stay in it longer. I notice it more. I don’t rush away from it like I used to. It’s wild how much nicer the world feels when you’re not fighting your own body all the time.
But this isn’t a fresh start.
I didn’t become a new person this spring. I didn’t suddenly have it all figured out. I’m still healing things quietly. Still working through parts of myself that don’t get posted or talked about. Still having days where I feel off, or tired, or in my head.
The difference is… I’m living while I do it. I’m moving. I’m showing up. I’m doing things for a version of me that never thought she could. This spring isn’t about starting over.It’s about continuing. For her. For me.
Same person. New season. And for the first time in a long time…I’m actually here for it.
