I don’t feel it yet.

I see it in my face and gut when I look in the mirror. I notice it when I throw on my jacket that fits a bit looser or when a belt tightens to the next notch. People around me have commented that they’ve noticed the change.

The last time I lost weight—when I lost 60 lbs in about 8 months—I still felt fat. I wasn’t. I very quickly put that weight back on, so I don’t know whether I would have become more comfortable at my new size given more time.

I do have more energy. I find it less taxing to climb the stairs to my third floor office. I still haven’t started working out regularly, but have a plan to start tonight.

Most of all, though, I’m proud. I truly did not believe I would ever lose weight again. The diets and programs I had tried and failed at in the past led me to believe I was doomed to be overweight. I had to let that fear of failure go, accept the responsibility for my self, and put the system I needed in place to affect change.

And I’ve done that. I have a ways to go before I reach my ultimate goal, but I’m heading in the right direction. I’m not worried anymore about the past. I’m letting it go in favour of the future.

And the future looks oh so bright.