It Started As A New Year Resolution

Left: Thanksgiving 2013 Right: Summer 2019

I’m about to get real with all of you. Vulnerable as hell. And as scary as that feels, I believe sharing my story might help someone who needs to hear it.

The year was 2013.

I was turning 30. I was married to my best friend, and we had a 9-year-old child. From the outside, it might have looked like I had a pretty solid life. But beneath the surface, I had developed a destructive relationship with food and alcohol that consumed me. I had fallen into a dark pit of self-hatred and bitterness. My marriage was on the brink of divorce, and I had no sense of direction.

I was eating and drinking to numb the depression that, looking back, I now realize was both the cause and the result of my over-consumption. It was a vicious cycle. You know, like the whole “chicken or the egg” debate—what came first?

I was eating and drinking to numb the depression

Sometime in the fall of 2013, my husband sat me down. He told me he couldn’t stay and watch me destroy myself any longer. He gave me a choice: cut the shit, work on getting healthy, and fight for our future together—or he’d leave. And if he left, he’d likely take our child because, let’s be honest, I wasn’t exactly winning “Mom of the Year.” I was drunk too often, checked out too often.

That was my fork in the road. Fight for my family or continue down the road of self-destruction?

December 31, 2013 – New Year’s Eve.

It was almost midnight. I was sitting in the living room with friends—friends who, like me, abused food, alcohol, and weed to cope. As I looked around, something clicked.

I realized I had been repeating the same patterns, year after year. I felt stuck, sluggish, and broken. Every night out ended with blacking out. Every day felt heavy and slow.

But that night, something was different. I wasn’t drunk. For the first time in forever, I really looked at my surroundings—and at myself. Across the room, a mirror reflected my image back to me. Mascara mixed with tears streaked down my face as I silently said goodbye to the version of me that no longer served any purpose.

January 4, 2014

This is the date I credit as the true beginning of my journey. I joined a gym with a girl I had met at the NYE party. I didn’t know it at the time, but the key to my success was the support system I found there. The people I met cheered me on, encouraged me, and celebrated my wins.

But the real support came from home. My husband jumped on board. We started cooking together, exploring healthy recipes, and finding ways to make fitness part of our family life. He even started buying small pieces of workout equipment to use between work calls. We planned family hikes and signed up for 5Ks.

But the real support came from home.

We became a different family—closer, more connected. We ate together, worked out together, and shared what we learned about fitness and nutrition.

Between 2014 and 2019

This journey completely transformed me. I went from being a member at the gym to working there as an accounts manager. I learned so much and realized I had a passion for fitness. In 2016, I became a Certified Personal Trainer.

I still remember the pride I felt when I earned that title. It motivated me to keep going. By that point, I had already lost 30 pounds and built a healthier relationship with food. But I wanted more. I wanted to be the version of myself I had always admired—the version I once thought was impossible.

I worked my ass off to make her real. There were early mornings, grueling workouts, and moments of frustration when I wanted to quit. But I didn’t. And every ounce of sweat, every tear, and every small win along the way was worth it.

I look back now, and I’m grateful for the girl I was on New Year’s Eve in 2013. She was in the darkest place, but she was strong enough to take that first step.

My Point?

Everything I have now—my health, my career, my family’s happiness—came from one “stupid” New Year’s resolution.

So, here’s my challenge to you: take a chance on yourself. January 1st is just a date, sure, but it holds a certain magic—a feeling of new beginnings.

What if this time, you actually did it?

What if, indeed…