Growth Beyond Obstacles

Three months. Ninety days. A quarter of a year. It doesn’t seem like a long time when you say it out loud, but for me, these past three months have held more change, growth, healing, and transformation than some entire years of my life.

Three months ago, I underwent Vertical Sleeve Gastrectomy (VSG)—a choice that came after years of struggling with my health, body image, and weight-related medical conditions. It was not a decision made lightly. I researched. I questioned. I cried. I hoped. And ultimately, I committed.

Now, here I am—three months post-op and 45 pounds lighter. But beyond the weight loss, I’ve lost so much more—and I mean that in the best way possible.

The Numbers: A Snapshot of Progress

Let’s get the obvious out of the way first: the numbers.

• Down 45 lbs since surgery

• Dropped from a size 28 to a size 20 in pants

• Shirt and dress sizes have gone from 26/6X to 2XL or 22/20

• My shoe size even dropped from a 9.5 to an 8.5

Yes, you read that right. I lost a whole shoe size. Who knew that feet could shrink with weight loss? I sure didn’t. I’ve heard whispers of it in support groups, but it still blew my mind when it happened to me. I had to retire a few of my favorite shoes because they no longer fit properly—and you know what? I’m not even mad about it.

Every piece of clothing I’ve let go of, every bag of donations I’ve packed, and every morning I’ve had to reevaluate my outfit because “wait, this is actually too big” has felt like shedding an old layer of myself—one I’ve carried for far too long.

Beyond the Scale: Non-Scale Victories that Changed Me

The numbers are great. Let’s not lie—watching the scale go down and sizes drop is satisfying. But what’s been more powerful than any single number is how I feel on the inside.

I feel free. I feel powerful. I feel comfortable in my own skin for the first time in what feels like forever.

That comfort doesn’t come from hitting a magic weight or seeing a certain size label. It comes from movement feeling easier. From waking up with less joint pain. From putting on an outfit and not tugging at it all day. From walking into a room and not immediately trying to shrink into the corner. From hearing someone say, “you look so happy,” and knowing it’s true—not just something people say when they notice you’ve lost weight.

And that’s the thing: I am happier. Not because I’m smaller, but because I’m no longer fighting myself every single day.

The Emotional Unpacking: Making Space for Self-Compassion

This surgery isn’t a magic cure, and it doesn’t erase the mental and emotional weight we’ve all carried. In fact, it forces you to face it.

You face it every time you say “no” to old coping habits. Every time you have to navigate a social gathering where food is the center of connection. Every time you look in the mirror and don’t quite recognize the person looking back—but in a good way and a weird way at the same time.

In these three months, I’ve had to unpack years—decades—of internalized shame, trauma, and learned behavior around food, body image, and self-worth. I’ve had to unlearn the idea that I had to “earn” my place in the world or “shrink” to be more lovable, valuable, or accepted.

And I’ve had to learn how to show myself grace on the hard days.

Because yes, there are hard days. There are days I miss the comfort of emotional eating. Days when my body is sore from healing. Days when I don’t see the changes and wonder if I’m doing enough. But those days are fewer now—and when they come, I’m better equipped to face them with compassion instead of criticism.

The Small Moments That Hit the Hardest

No one tells you how the little moments will wreck you—in the best way.

Like the first time I buckled a seatbelt without shifting or struggling.

Like walking up a flight of stairs without getting winded and realizing I wasn’t even thinking about it.

Like slipping into a pair of jeans I hadn’t worn in years and having them not just fit—but be too big.

Like catching a glimpse of yourself in the mirror and smiling instead of picking yourself apart.

These little moments have been everything. They’re the quiet wins that build confidence from the inside out. They’re the reason I keep going, even on the tough days.

Confidence Rising: Learning to Love This Version of Me

I’ve always believed confidence wasn’t just about how you look—but about how you feel about how you look.

These days, I feel good. I feel strong. I feel beautiful—not because I’m closer to society’s standard of “acceptable,” but because I finally feel aligned with myself.

I carry myself differently. I speak with more conviction. I’m not afraid to take up space anymore—not physically, not emotionally, not mentally. And that has been the greatest gift of all.

For so long, I made myself small. I dimmed my light. I laughed quieter. I avoided pictures. I let people interrupt me. I apologized for things that weren’t my fault.

Not anymore.

Now, I stand taller. I wear bold colors. I look people in the eye. I ask for what I need. I advocate for myself. I celebrate my wins. I take pictures even when I feel unsure—because I’m learning to honor this body in all its stages.

Lessons I’ve Learned So Far

1. This is a marathon, not a sprint. The weight doesn’t fall off overnight, and the emotional healing takes time. But it’s worth every step.

2. Your worth isn’t defined by a number. Your value is in your resilience, your heart, and your effort.

3. Non-scale victories matter more than the scale. Don’t underestimate the power of small wins—they’re where the real magic lives.

4. You will outgrow more than your clothes. You’ll outgrow mindsets, habits, relationships, and limiting beliefs. Let that happen.

5. Celebrate every milestone. No matter how small. They’re all part of the bigger picture.

Looking Ahead: This Is Just the Beginning

I’m only three months in. There’s still a long road ahead. But I’ve already walked so far from where I started, and I can’t wait to see what’s next.

I don’t measure progress by pounds alone. I measure it by strength, courage, and the way I show up for myself every day.

I’m not just losing weight—I’m finding pieces of myself that I thought were gone. Joy. Passion. Pride. Freedom.

This journey has shown me that healing is possible, that change is real, and that no matter how far you feel from the person you want to be, you can always begin again.

And to anyone reading this who’s just starting or struggling to believe in themselves—please know that you’re not alone. There’s no shame in doing what’s best for your body, your mind, or your future. You are worthy of healing. You are worthy of change. And you are worthy of celebrating yourself at every step.

So here’s to the next three months—and the next chapter in becoming the version of myself I’ve always dreamed of being.

I’m not there yet, but I’m well on my way.

Until Next Time

Kaylee Ann