Growing up, it was clear to me—I was fat. I had always been fat. For most of my high school and college years, I was certain I was destined to always be the “fat girl.” I tried and failed countless times to lose weight, constantly reminded of my size by peers, strangers, and even doctors who warned me from a young age that I needed to change. Eventually, I stopped trying so hard. I let it go, convincing myself it was just who I was.
By the time I graduated high school in 2015, I weighed 363 pounds. College didn’t make things easier. I tried again and again—skipping dinner, avoiding dessert, walking every evening—but nothing felt sustainable. I longed for a solution, for a way to truly change. Weight loss surgery crossed my mind, but insurance didn’t cover it. I hoped for a turning point, a spark that would set my life on a new path—but that spark didn’t come immediately.
Then, during my sophomore year of college, I reconnected with my husband. We had met years earlier in school, and now, at my heaviest weight, he was there, supportive of my attempts to lose weight, no matter how many times I tried. His encouragement was steady and genuine, but I started to notice how my weight was holding me back—physically, emotionally, in ways I hadn’t fully acknowledged.
One of the clearest wake-up calls came during our first family vacation. We went to a water park, and I found myself 20 pounds over the weight limit for every slide. I felt humiliated and trapped in a body that limited my life. That moment ignited something in me—a desire to change in a way I never had before. After long conversations with my doctor and my husband, I decided it was time to take control. I wanted to no longer be restricted by weight, to be able to live fully, and the thought of having a child became a dream I desperately wanted to make possible. At 360 pounds, that dream felt far away—but I was ready to chase it.
Three months into following WW, I lost nearly 30 pounds and discovered I was pregnant. I was terrified. I knew my body would be challenged, and the risks were real for both me and my baby. My husband’s support became my anchor. From just five weeks and five days into pregnancy, he was helping me prepare balanced, nutritious meals—more wholesome than anything I had eaten before. Despite our efforts, I was diagnosed with gestational diabetes. In that moment, I remember thinking, “This is it, Bekkah. You have to change—for yourself, and for this life you are creating.”
By June 2018, at 30 weeks pregnant, I limited my sugar and starch intake as much as possible. Though I eventually needed insulin, my son was born healthy. In the six months after his birth, I maintained reduced sugar consumption, and by six months postpartum, I had reached 293 pounds—a number I hadn’t seen in five years. At 22, seeing a number below 300 pounds for the first time filled me with a joy and pride I had never known. That long-awaited spark was finally here.
When my son began walking, another reality hit me: I needed to be able to keep up. I wanted to share an active, vibrant life with him. After his first birthday in 2019, I recommitted to a healthy lifestyle, now with Gabriel toddling alongside me. We went on daily walks, and I embraced the challenge of balancing motherhood, school, nutrition, and exercise. Over the first month, I lost 18 pounds. The second month brought another 10 pounds. With each passing week, I felt myself growing stronger, healthier, and more confident.
Gabriel became my little workout partner. He would join me on my yoga mat, watch workout videos, and even volunteer as a “weight” during squats—a 30-pound toddler isn’t light, but neither is the motivation he gave me. On days I didn’t want to exercise, everyday chores became workouts, like pushing mow an entire acre of land. Looking back, all those small struggles—the calorie counting, the effort, the resistance—were nothing compared to the reward of newfound strength and vitality.
Caring for my body also allowed emotional healing. Though I wasn’t bullied often, some cruel words about my weight lingered. Over time, I realized those who judged me didn’t know my story or struggles. I forgave those who hurt me, and I proved the doubters wrong: I lost weight, found love, had a child, built a career, and learned to truly love myself. The words of the past no longer define me—they only remind me of how far I’ve come.
For the first time in my life, I did things I had always dreamed of. I rode a bike again after ten years, jumped on every trampoline at the trampoline park, and kept up with friends’ children during playdates. I even started running at 250 pounds in February 2020, beginning with run-walk intervals. By October, I completed my first 5K in 42 minutes and 53 seconds. By November, I ran a mile at a 9:17 pace. Running became not just exercise, but a reminder of my progress and resilience.
My personal journey influenced my education too. Growing up in a working-class family, sometimes relying on food banks, I saw firsthand how socioeconomic factors shape eating habits. For my senior thesis, I examined the link between poverty and obesity in Arkansas, learning how nutrition and access impact life trajectories. This research will continue into my master’s studies, helping me turn personal experience into meaningful work.
In June 2021, after losing 180 pounds naturally over two and a half years, I consulted for skin removal surgery—a step to close this chapter of my life while continuing a healthy lifestyle. I am currently crowdfunding for the procedure, awaiting the day I can complete this transformation.
I no longer exercise or restrict calories solely for weight loss, but I continue to share my story. I was once limited, questioning my worth, unaware I could change. Today, I focus on progress, love, and gratitude—for my son, my husband, my family, and the woman I have become. Motherhood showed me the power of love to transform a life, and I’ve dedicated myself to living a life worthy of the example I want to set for Gabriel.
Every day, I set small goals. Some days, I succeed; others, I do not. But the act of trying—day by day—compounds into life-changing growth. My son will turn three in August 2021. We will celebrate with cake, ice cream, and a day full of play. That day, like every day, will remind me of how far I’ve come, how love and determination can transform a life, and how one small decision to better yourself can ripple into a lifetime of change.
