I Wanted to Lose Weight—But Not If It Meant Changing Anything

Weight-loss supplements were supposed to be my golden ticket.

A thinner body, no effort, and zero sacrifices.

I could keep my daily wine. I could keep my comfort foods. I could keep everything—except, as it turns out, my sense of self.

Because the moment my body actually started changing for the better, I panicked.

I wasn’t lazy. I wasn’t unmotivated.

I was scared, even though I didn’t realize it back then.

Scared that if I changed my habits, I’d have to change who I was.

Scared that if I let go of the weight, I’d also have to let go of the identity I had built around it.

Scared that if I succeeded, I wouldn’t know how to exist as someone who wasn’t in survival mode.

So instead of making real, lasting changes, I turned to weight-loss pills that would let me lose weight without requiring me to change.

And for a while, I did see progress. But as soon as my body started to shift, something in me freaked out.

I found myself downplaying my success:

• I ignored the small changes I had started to notice

• I brushed off compliments

• I even started self-sabotaging—because deep down, I wasn’t ready.

I thought I wanted to lose weight.

But what I really wanted was to stay the same and somehow still get different results.

Why supplements didn’t work for me (and why they never would have)

This post isn’t about whether weight-loss supplements or injections work for everyone.

This is about why they didn’t work for me.

The problem wasn’t the supplements themselves.

The problem was that I was still stuck in survival mode.

I fought tooth and nail through every thing to protect my identity as a survivor.

I spent my entire life resisting being told what to do—because growing up, my choices had never been mine.

I had been controlled, manipulated, and conditioned to live on my mean narcissistic mother’s terms.

So as an adult, even when something would have helped me, I hated being told what to eat, what not to eat, or how I should be taking care of myself.

The idea of having to intentionally change something about my diet, my daily habits, or my lifestyle felt like an attack on my autonomy.

So, instead of making actual changes, I reached for weight-loss pills—anything that would let me stay exactly the same while still getting results.

But here’s what I didn’t understand back then: when you’re in survival mode, even success feels like a threat.

The turning point: shifting from survival mode to well-being

Something incredible happened when I stopped identifying as a survivor.

I stopped seeing change as something being done to me and started seeing it as something I was choosing for myself.

I let go of the resistance.

I let go of the fear of being controlled.

I let go of the belief that change meant losing something, when in reality, it meant gaining everything.

And that’s when everything got easy.

👆I’m in the middle of a workout and looking like it, lol.

I work out three days a week now doing 30-minute strength-training sessions each day with a very knowledgable trainer—not because I’m forcing myself to, but because I want to.

My nutrition is excellent—not because I’m following rigid rules, but because it feels good.

I don’t drink wine daily and I don’t miss it!

Making changes to my lifestyle no longer feels restrictive

It feels like freedom!

If I had stuck with weight-loss supplements, none of this would have happened:

• I wouldn’t have had to face myself

• I wouldn’t have had to shift my beliefs

• I wouldn’t have had to redefine what it means to take care of me.

And that’s what I’m most grateful for!

Final thoughts: this isn’t a post about weight-loss supplements being bad. It’s about what I was using them to avoid.

Aligned and thriving, 

Carole

Questions for the reader:

1. What part of me is resisting change?

2. Why do I feel unsafe making choices that benefit me?

3. What identity am I clinging to that makes me feel like I can’t be a person who prioritizes well-being?