Taking Control

This year has had trials and tribulations more than I would have preferred quite honestly. I mean, I guess I can appreciate the last few years being the "bandaid" of my life. Fist bump to the higher power. But I would have liked things to be spread out a little bit more. Just a little. In all the flurry of life throwing wrenches at my face (picture the movie Dodgeball and you've essentially got it), I let myself go. GASP. Being in a wheelchair for a hot minute and scared about walking or any physical activity can put a genuine damper on your calorie intake-to-burn ratio. And eating crap doesn't help either. Go fricken figure, man. 
After having Asher I had aggressively invited hoards of pounds to jump on my body like I was a life boat. Keeping my little friends safe of course! But they became not so little after a while. In high school I was averaging around 150 lbs. Like every high school female---I thought I was fat. What I wouldn't DO to hit that number again (I'm doing it, by the way). So I saw the scale drop from 215 before having Asher to 190. I saw it drop to about 183 while breastfeeding and loved it---then it shot back up to 190 once I stopped. 
I am definitely not a person that fat shames anyone. Do I think taking care of yourself is the better option? Of course. But I would have been fine with 190 had I not felt like utter shit. My joints hurt, I was lethargic, I hated anything that I wore and how I looked. I was a hot mess. A hot, large, uncomfortable mess my friends. Something happened in my brain and a switch literally flipped. I saw people getting fit and healthy all around me (notice how I didn't mention thin) and I wanted that. I needed that. I decided to do it.
In the adventure of trying to figure out my stupid medical issues I let my doctors throw whatever meds my way and became a lab rat. After the fifth nerve pain medication, I was prescribed narcotics and pain patches to help me. I am 26. This is not how my life should be. So I kicked that shit to the wind and decided to take control naturally.  
So now that I was feeling better, eating better became the next step. I strictly focused on calorie intake and ate whatever the hell I wanted. Pizza? That was a nice one-meal day. Chocolate? Enjoy the rest of the day eating cucumbers. I ate horribly but I simply stayed under my calorie count---and the weight decreased. Then I introduced actually eating better for my body and immune system. I cut my calories again. And again. It sounds drastic, but being a person whose physical activity was limited by pain, I had no other option. After 8 months, I hit my first goal of 25 pounds lost. A month later, another 10. I was KILLING it folks. And I still am.
You want to know the difference from my life a year ago to today? EVERYTHING. I am outside with my boys almost 5 days a week now. I take them to the park and play harder than I have in a long time. My legs are covered in bruises from acting like a 26 year old child on the jungle gym. And I even started hiking again. I missed the hell out of being outside and active. I never want to go back. Ever.
What advice can I offer those struggling with their weight/health/happiness? CHANGE. Absolutely nothing will happen if you do absolutely nothing. Make little changes and turn them into big ones. Stay focused. Don't let doubt or worry defeat you. If you need to change... do it. It will be the best thing you've ever done.