I think I figured something out.
Whenever I thought, talked, wrote about the “perfect storm” of circumstances that led to my successful weight loss in 2010 I considered three things.
1. Support: Karol and I were doing it together. We ate lunch together every day, worked out on the weekends or shopped at Macy’s for smaller clothes. We texted each other every Monday morning when we stepped on the scale. We jointly made weight loss our entire personalities and that was a kind of unwavering and constant support.
2. Convenience: My gym was on the third floor of the office tower. I literally had to pass it to get in and out of the building. Nobody was waiting at home except Karma, who truly couldn’t give a shit how late I was at work. Plus, I got a discounted gym membership for working at Canal Place. It couldn’t have been more convenient if it was engineered that way.
4. Motivation: My stupid crush on Don. Ick, blech, barf. As ridiculous as both the crush and the degree of motivation I got from imagining I could make him like me if I fit some insane beauty standard (that, by the way, HE didn’t even meet), it worked. It was massively inspiring as I pounded the treadmill night after night envisioning myself thin and beautiful in leather leggings or a Hervé Léger Bandage Dress under the fuchsia lights of Masquerade.
This week I think I figured out the fourth key. I didn’t know there was one, but once it occurred to me, I realized how profoundly impactful it was. I think in recent months I had been inadvertently circling it without fully understanding. Then the proverbial lightbulb moment. And that was (drumroll please…)
2010 Diet Culture
Yes, it was toxic. It was extremely damaging to a lot of people and I’m not advocating that we bring it back.
That said, I have to recognize how incredibly helpful it was for me. It was the era of Biggest Loser and Extreme Makeover: Weight Loss Edition. Shape and Oxygen Magazine were at every checkout line. Crossfit and Bootcamps, the reimagining of Weight Watchers were inescapable. It was a time when weight loss – especially significant weight loss – was publicly viewed as almost a moral victory. It was celebrated, its victors exalted. And there I was, doing the damned thing.
The diet culture prevalent at that time created a feedback loop for me. I put in the work and I got recognized for it publicly. Like constantly. Coworkers I hardly knew would compliment me as I passed through the casino. The people closest to me rained praise on me. It felt amazing — it pushed me to keep working, to work harder. It was validation that all the evenings I spent at the gym, all the nights I spent with my sad little meal-prepped dinner, all the times I packed up half my restaurant order in a to-go box before even taking my first bite… it was all worth it. They could see the change I couldn’t see it with my own eyes. I had to see my success through the eyes of others.
Today, people would swallow their own tongues before complimenting or even commenting on someone’s body. And that’s valid. I don’t disagree with that. That shit is wildly inappropriate and potentially harmful. But I fucking need it. I need to see myself through the eyes of others. I need to hear that I’m succeeding. I need recognition. I need validation. Perhaps that’s a major personality flaw on my part but whatever. It’s the truth.
Now I have set out to figure out a way to recreate this feedback loop in 2026. I have subscribed to Strong Magazine (the lone survivor of that era). I have started following fitness content creators on social media who have lost similar amounts of weight to what I am hoping to achieve. I am laying groundwork with those closest to me to let them know that acknowledging my progress is not just ok, it’s encouraged. Please, please for the love of whatever you hold dear, comment on my weight. I continue to brainstorm.
