Two weeks ago, I sat down and wrote a post. It was a candid, no holds barred look into my life as a morbidly obese woman. Those words were hard to write. Every one of them was a little piece of me, bared to the world, encapsulated on a screen. My fears. My regrets.

My weight.

Those words were meaningful to me, and based on the tremendous amount of supportive responses I got, they were meaningful to other people as well. I had to have Meri actually publish the post for fear I wouldn’t be able to hit the button. I wanted to erase the words, to take them back, as if doing so would make it less real, would make it all go away.

It wouldn’t have. Those realities don’t go away. They will change, when I change them, but they will never cease to be exactly where I was on that day.

The response was incredible. As soon as the post was published, my phone immediately starting buzzing. Tweets, emails, blog responses, Facebook notifications, texts, IMs from people in my office who I am FB friends with.

I couldn’t look right away. I didn’t know what the words coming in were, but I knew they would be too much. And when I did look? They were too much. Wonderful, kind, empathetic… but overwhelming. I cried more times than I can count. It took me days to fully process all of the messages, and days more to respond in a manner befitting the words that were given to me.

I’m so grateful to each one of you that reached out. I’m so touched that people found inspiration in that post, or solace at the idea that they were not the only one with those feelings. I’m so incredibly lucky to have such wonderful people in my world.

I gave myself a few more days to process how I was feeling, and then I started to ask myself some questions.

That is where I am, how do I get where I want to be?

I could sit here wishing I’d done things differently, wishing that I’d had the courage to face my demons years ago, but it wouldn’t change anything. I could blame the people in my life that failed me, blame the diet industry and the food industry for making me fat and keeping me that way, but it wouldn’t change anything. I could sit on my couch with my buddies, Ben and Jerry, crying about how hard it all is, but it really wouldn’t change anything.

Or I could build a bridge and get over it.

How am I going to change habits that are twenty eight years in the making?

I can change, but not without help. I am a prideful person, independent, and I hate needing help. But I need help. And my very wise lifelong best friend gave me some words this morning.

“If you need help, get help.” Right. I love you, Jen.

What diet do you try when you’ve tried every diet?

It doesn’t matter. Some are better than others, some are truly healthier than others, but at the end of the day, this isn’t about the diet. It’s about my commitment to doing what needs to be done, and about knowing that when something isn’t working, you find something else that will. It’s about me making the decision to change my life and my health. (I spent the better part of the last week trying to decide what was the best way to go about this, and I have a plan…you all know how I LOVE a plan. I’m not ready to talk about the plan just yet, but I have one.)

So, I’m going to  get help and work on forgiving  myself. I’ve made a commitment. And I’ve got a plan.

Where do I start? How? When? 

Old Chinese Proverb: The best time to plant a tree is twenty years ago. The second best time is now.

Okay, then. Now works.