Health And Wellness

I Finally Reached My Goal Weight And Got My Dream Body. It Was Nothing Like I Thought.

Photo: Artem Oleshko / Shutterstock
woman stepping on scale

February, 15th 2021.

I was waking up to another regular day — or so I thought. 

As soon as I opened my eyes, I could sense something was wrong. I was tired beyond belief.

I called my doctor and did a COVID-19 test. Negative.

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I thought maybe I was just working too much, and I would get better eventually.

I fought this fatigue for a week until after a failed attempt to skate with a friend, I could barely stand and I decided it was enough.

I booked an appointment with my doctor and once at his office, I find out I lost 17 pounds. Given that I've fought the scale my whole life and I can gain weight by simply smelling a slice of bread, 17 pounds in three weeks was a lot for me to lose.

I did a few blood tests; they all came back normal. The doctor sent me home advising me to rest and drink lots of fluids.

But I was just so tired — to the point where I couldn’t work anymore and had to take sick leave.

Soon I had lost 22 pounds because eating required too much effort.

At this point, I was calling the ambulance every other day because, with not enough food, my heart was working overtime and I was worried I was having a heart attack.

I eventually found out I had a severe case of gastritis caused by H.pylori.

Being so sick without knowing what was wrong with me took a toll on me.

I was anxious and depressed and afraid 24/7.

What if the doctors missed something else?

There were more blood tests, CT scans, sleepless nights.

I went from 187 pounds to 152 pounds and I'm 5'7.

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Then, out of the blue, it was summer.

The first time I saw my friends I could hear the screams, “Oh my god. Look at you! You’re so pretty! Girrrlllll, look at that body!!”

Yes, this body that arrived at the hospital in a wheelchair just last week.

This body that can no longer have a beer or an ice cream.

This body that can now only work on benzos because of the stress of living undiagnosed for months.

“My body is perfect?!”

It certainly didn’t feel perfect.

I looked in the mirror and saw the body I’d always dreamed of: a skinny body.

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But that body that couldn’t run, dance, sing out loud or eat junk food after a night out.

With time and a lot of discipline, I got better and gained some weight.

Recently, after a wonderful day of eating my favorite food with my family while I was visiting them in Brazil, I shared a picture with a friend and their response was: Is this you? You gained weight.

Yes, I did.

Because I can eat again. Because I'm no longer exhausted to the point I can't leave my bed.

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Now I can travel again. I can have Carbonara with a glass of wine. I can have lactose-free Ben & Jerry's while binge-watching a show on Netflix after a very long day at work.

I can also finally hit the gym and do yoga on the weekends.

My body is healthy (or getting there), and it allows me to do things and to live life to its fullest.

I always wanted to be skinny and weigh less than 150 pounds — and I got there. 

But now I know that the body of my dreams is a healthy functioning one, and I will never take that for granted again.

Jackeline Aguiar is a Social Media Specialist who writes about love and relationships. Follow her on Instagram.

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This article was originally published at Medium. Reprinted with permission from the author.