Once upon a time, back in the land of SparkPeople.com and prehistoric social media platforms in 2010, I was a young twenty-two year old with the screen name moniker “fit-whit.” I chose the nickname when I was very much *not* fit yet, and was really struggling with my self-love and body image. I remember being in such a place of self-loathing that I was ready to do anything to make an image of myself as a “skinny woman” a reality.
And I did.
From stressed and depressed, I found a true new driving force in my life in the form of consistent exercise, and micromanaging my caloric intake (to the tune of 1200 calories a day! Yikes!). I joined an online platform (from my desktop computer, who had smartphones?) where I could login and share my journey, write blogs (back when those were a thing – ha! ope), and track my exercise minutes and calories. I got a dopamine rush from the “awards” I won for my efforts, and from the validation of my weight continuing to drop down from 185 pounds to 145 pounds as a 5’10” woman.
It was really the start of a whole new identity for me. I created Fit Whit: A huge accomplishment! It carved out the new track I could see myself pursuing: a life where I looked and felt like the version of myself I had only once imagined, where I could channel my passion and dedication straight into the lives of others and make a positive impact on the world!
It’s true to say that a lot hinged on my new identity, cast into the world with a silly rhyming nickname. Being fit, staying lean and within my “goal weight range” was something I could control, I could tout out as an accomplishment amidst a life that felt utterly free from accomplishment post-college. I was angling for self-worth, self-acceptance, and social celebration for my efforts and success… while feeling like a total imposter and failure in my career, my marriage, my influence, and my aspirations toward “being someone.”
Uffda. As I look back now as a late-thirties woman with a much more seasoned lens on life, I can see how this “becoming” of “Fit Whit” for me was an early identity crisis. It has always meant I need to maintain this image – not “let myself go” or admit that things look so much different now. And to a certain extent – this website is the monthly payment I look the other way from because I can’t bear the thought of letting Fit Whit hypothetically “die” completely.
So here I am now. Age 37, remarried (happily!), with an 8 year old son who is the light of my world. I work in an industry I didn’t expect I’d end up in or stay in (ophthalmology / patient care x 11 years now). And I find myself in a fresh version of my identity crisis circa 2010. Who am I now? Am I still “Fit Whit”?
I’m certainly not 145 pounds anymore. The embarrassing reality is that I’m actually closer to 165 pounds, and it’s ravaging my body-dysmorphia hard to reconcile myself to a higher weight. It feels like I’ve failed at the one thing I felt I had truly *accomplished* in my life. If I’m fully honest with myself – I would say the coach side of me and the reason-based side of me both know the mental reframing that needs to happen. I’ve worked with so many clients with weight-loss goals and helped encourage a reframing from focusing on a set weight to an ideal feeling they associate with that weight. “If you weighed exactly what you do now, but looked like you want and felt like you want, would the weight matter?” NO.
So why am I so hung up on this identity crisis over my weight? My life is more balanced than it was in my twenties. I’m lightyears happier in my love life, family, and friendships! I have an active social life, I have healthy habits engrained into my daily routines, I exercise very consistently. I drink lots of water, I eat vegetarian or plant-based exclusively. I get lots of sleep. Overall, I take really diligent care of myself, especially compared to the average American.
I feel like although there are so many things I know with confidence about health and wellness, and have helped so many through, it still comes down to a feeling of somehow betraying my identity and one of my more transformative accomplishments. Like an olympian who no longer practices their sport, or a lawyer who doesn’t do law anymore, or a doctor who quit her practice to stay at home with kids… I can get wrapped up in this idea that somehow I’m no longer accomplished, because my life and body has evolved and changed.
But… isn’t that the point? To evolve and change in life… To shift when you grow, to redirect priorities when your life expands. To let old and new wounds heal, and see the scars that changed you as testimonies to your tenacity. To welcome in new responsibilities, to accept aging with grace, to celebrate the chapters that have closed, and look forward to the unread stories ahead.
I think it is.
And who is to say exactly how that looks? We are in an era of redefining all kinds of norms. I’ve been focused on consistency in the priorities that matter to me. Drawing boundaries for my mental and physical health. Gaining muscle. Nurturing relationships. Being flexible. Staying gracious and present in my life.
And all of that — in all its change and evolution — is pretty damn fit.
Fitting in all that matters to me … and letting the things that don’t go RIP, in the graveyard of 2010 technology where it all began.