January Entry: A Conversation with Myself
Theme for January: Truth and Humility
Quote:
“The mirror flatters not; it reveals the truth as it is, unembellished and unyielding. It demands courage to look deeply and wisdom to accept what is seen.” – Jean Puget de La Serre, The Mirrour Which Flatters Not
Reflections on Truth:
The start of the new year often feels like a blank canvas—an opportunity to redefine who I am and who I hope to become. For as long as I can remember, I have entered January with resolutions to lose weight. Yet this year, as I examine myself in the mirror, I realize my struggles with weight are not merely physical. They are reflections of deeper truths, rooted in my choices, experiences, and emotions.
This journey didn’t begin today but years ago, during my senior year of high school. That year, I made a choice that still reverberates through my life: I decided not to play football. At the time, the decision felt necessary. My anger had become uncontrollable, and football seemed to fuel it further. I feared the intensity of my emotions and their potential consequences. What I didn’t anticipate was the profound fallout that followed. My choice alienated me from nearly everyone around me—family, friends, teachers, and peers. It was as if, in rejecting football, I had unknowingly rejected the foundation of my identity.
That year became defined by isolation. Rejection from those closest to me led me to withdraw further. I quit band, chose classes with underclassmen to avoid judgment, and sought refuge in church, though even that fell away after my youth pastor, Robert, left at Christmas. By the time I graduated, I was disconnected and adrift, unsure of who I was or where I belonged. The absence of connection left a gaping void, one that I filled with the only consistent source of comfort I could find: food.
In this void, food became more than nourishment; it became my solace, my coping mechanism, and my way of exerting control over an otherwise chaotic life. I ate to fill the emptiness, to soothe the hurt, and to distract myself from the feelings of rejection. This pattern persisted into adulthood, as I navigated the stresses of college, work, and relationships. By 2011, my weight had peaked at 370 pounds. I was a young man with big feelings and a big appetite.
One pivotal moment stands out in this journey—a moment of painful clarity. I was at the Heart-Attack Café in Dallas, where patrons weighing over 350 pounds ate for free. In the center of the restaurant was a massive, industrial-sized scale, its display visible to all. On a dare, I stepped onto the scale, unaware of what it would reveal. The number—370 pounds—flashed for everyone to see. The humiliation was overwhelming. That moment shattered the fragile denial I had clung to and forced me to confront the reality of my situation. I remember the heat rising to my face as strangers watched, their expressions a mixture of curiosity, pity, judgment, and exuberance. It was as though the number on the scale wasn’t just a reflection of my physical weight but an indictment of my choices, my pain, and my failures.
In the aftermath, I took action. I joined a gym and committed myself to the hard work of change. Over time, I brought my weight down to 240 pounds. For the first time in years, I felt in control of my body and my life. I believed I had conquered my struggles. But life, as it always does, moved forward. Stress returned, rejection resurfaced, and old habits crept back. Slowly but surely, the weight returned. By the time I realized it, I was back at 350 pounds, trapped in a cycle I thought I had escaped. The sense of failure was crushing, as was the realization that I hadn’t addressed the root causes of my relationship with food.
Reflections on Humility:
The mirror is an uncompromising teacher. It reflects not only the visible results of our actions but also the truths we work hard to avoid. This January, as I stand before it, I see both the setbacks and the progress I have made. My weight remains high, at 320 pounds, and my type 2 diabetes and A1C levels demand more attention than I have given them. These are undeniable realities. Yet, the mirror also shows me the efforts I’ve made—the ways I have fought to be more mindful, more intentional, and more honest with myself.
Over the past two years, I have worked to adopt healthier habits. I’ve made strides in recognizing the emotional triggers that drive my eating and have taken steps to address them. I’ve also dedicated time to improving my mental health, examining how my self-image as an overweight adult has shaped my broader sense of well-being. These changes may not always feel significant, but they are meaningful, and they deserve my acknowledgment.
Humility requires me to acknowledge both the weight of my failures and the strength it takes to keep trying. There is no linear path to progress, no one-size-fits-all solution. The mirror demands that I see myself clearly, but it also reminds me that growth comes from persistence, from showing up day after day even when the results are slow to appear. Humility is about accepting the messy, imperfect nature of this journey—learning to forgive myself for missteps while continuing to move forward.
A Yearlong Journey:
This year, I aim to see the mirror not as an adversary but as a companion on my journey. It will neither flatter me nor condemn me. Instead, it will challenge me to look deeper, to confront the patterns and emotions that underlie my actions, and to accept myself as I am while striving for growth.
The truths the mirror reveals are not always easy to face. They force me to confront the rejection I’ve experienced, the shame of public humiliation, and the years I’ve spent seeking solace in unhealthy habits. Yet these truths also provide an opportunity for transformation—a chance to grow, to heal, and to move forward with honesty and grace.
The journey will not be simple. It will require discipline, patience, and an ongoing willingness to confront uncomfortable truths. There will be moments of doubt and frustration, but I am learning that those moments are part of the process. They are what make progress meaningful. This year is not about reaching a specific weight or achieving a perfect version of myself. It is about learning to live with intention, to balance accountability with self-compassion, and to embrace the journey for what it is: an ongoing conversation with myself.
Looking Ahead:
As I move through January and into February, the focus of my reflections will shift to balance and moderation. Inspired by the clarity the mirror offers, I will work to address my health holistically—physically, emotionally, and mentally. This journey is not about achieving perfection or a specific number on the scale. It is about persistence, self-compassion, and the courage to face each day with intention.
The mirror’s lesson this month is one of truth and humility: to see myself as I am, to acknowledge my struggles, and to embrace the courage and wisdom to change what I can. This is the beginning of a yearlong journey, and I am ready to face it—one reflection at a time.