Welcome to the first installment of my “Weight Loss Diary Flip-Through” series, where I revisit and reflect on my weight loss journey from 2020. These entries capture the raw, unfiltered emotions of someone determined to change but also learning to navigate the challenges that come with such a transformation. Let’s dive into an entry from exactly four years ago— 1 October, 2020. (NB: Slightly edited to fit the blog post style)
It’s 4 a.m., and I’m wide awake, staring at the scale like it’s just delivered a personal insult. I’m four weeks into what I’d hoped would be my triumphant weight loss journey. I was motivated, committed, and ready to see some decent progress as I have been the past few weeks. But this morning, the scale seems to have betrayed me, showing a number I hadn’t seen in weeks—a number that feels suspiciously close to where I started.
The frustration is immediate and overwhelming. It’s hard not to feel like I’ve been wasting my time, that every sweat-soaked workout and every sad, carb-free meal was for nothing. My mind starts racing: What’s the point of all this effort if I’m just going to end up right back where I started?
I tumble back to bed, but I can’t sleep. And then comes the guilt. Oh, the guilt. I can’t stop thinking about the indulgences from the past few weeks—the rule of six social bubble Boris introduced, the wine, the moments of weakness where I let myself enjoy something “off-plan.” My body feels heavy with it all, not just physically but emotionally too, and I start to spiral into that familiar fear that I’m destined to stay in this body forever.
But then, somewhere in the midst of my 4 a.m. fog, a small, rational voice speaks up: Is this really going to ruin everything?
This is a pivotal moment for me. I look at London slowly waking up, with a sheen of orange behind the forever-present clouds and have an epiphany. Even as I am consumed by frustration and disappointment, part of me know that this isn’t the end. I remind myself that weight doesn’t just appear out of nowhere. This can’t be a fat gain; it is likely water retention, maybe some bloating, all those normal fluctuations that happen in the body. But in the haze of the early morning, it felt like a catastrophe, and I accept and acknowledge that low feeling.
I try to calm myself down—I start researching since I can’t sleep anymore. I learn that water retention can be triggered by a variety of things—sodium, carbs, even my menstrual cycle. The scale, as much as I want to curse it, is just showing me a snapshot in time, not the whole picture. These numbers? They’re just data points, little blips on the radar of a much bigger journey.
Now, as I flip back through this diary entry, I can see the growth that came from that morning. What felt like a setback was really a lesson in resilience. I learned that progress isn’t always linear, that fluctuations are normal, and that the key to success is in how you handle these bumps in the road.
Looking back, I realise how important it was to keep perspective during moments like this. It’s so easy to let a single weigh-in define your day or even your entire journey, but the real victory comes from staying the course, learning from these moments, and moving forward with renewed determination.
If you’ve ever had a 4 a.m. moment like mine, I want to help you navigate those emotional ups and downs with more ease. That’s why I’ve put together a free guide—“10 Mindful Weight Loss Principles”—to support you on your journey. Download it now and arm yourself with the tools to stay calm, centered, and focused on your goals, no matter what the scale says in the morning.
