A Good Melissa

Twenty-seven-years old and 290lbs; what made me do it? What finally made me commit to being healthy. It started with a baby. Not mine! My nephew. In July 2009 my sister-in-law gave birth to my nephew Finn.


I remember walking into that giant hospital room. He was tiny, soft, and pink. He lay quietly in my arms swaddled in a blaket, those little eyes shut ever so tight not ready to see the world before him. I counted each finger; each toe. I inhaled the newness of his smell. He was perfect. My pudgy arms carried his weightless body through the room, slowly sitting in a chair. As I gazed at him images of chasing him around the yard, splashing with him in the pool, reading books with him…all that being an aunt meant danced in my head. I wanted to be there for him. I wanted to be the best Aunt Melissa I could be. That meant I needed to be there. I needed to be there.

As we drove away from the hospital I sat quietly in the backseat. My grandfather; diabetic, on dialysis, and oxygen 24/7, sat in the front talking about how great it would be to live to see Finn’s first birthday (happy to report he has). Suddenly, the idea of death entered my brain. My grandfather was a member of the Fat Guys Club; in my eyes he was president. His southern cooking of biscuit and gravy (“yummy,” says my inner Fat Guy) fueled my breakfast meals for my entire life. At seventy-seven-years-old he stood as a cautionary tale for me; a life of living unhealthy. He was alive; medication, insulin, dialysis for four hours a day three days a week, oxygen, and strict diet kept him that way. Is that how I wanted to be there for my nephew? It would kind of hard to chase him around the yard hooked to an oxygen tank. I love my grandfather. I am happy he’s here. I wish, though, he was healthier (as I am sure he does).

If I was going to be a Good Aunt Melissa, I must first be a Good Melissa. A Good Melissa was a Healthy Melissa. During the rest of that summer I thought about that. I thought about what I needed to do and what it would take to be a Good Melissa; a Melissa healthy, happy, and embracing the potential life ahead of her. It was time to make a choice and stick by that choice.

Like so many I have tried to lose the weight. I would work out, but not change diet. I would change diet for a month. I would do both and get frustrated that the weight wasn’t coming off as quickly as I wanted it to. I would tell everyone I was doing it, but sneak cookies into my room or drink soda when nobody was looking. These were all the traps I fell into, when “trying” to lose weight.

How did I do it this time? How did I finally resolve to do it? I had motivation, but that wasn’t it alone. I had always been motivated to lose weight. That was the problem. It was always about losing something, not gaining something. To finally change I needed to change the way I looked at change. It’s not a diet. It’s not weight loss. It’s my life. It was about embracing a new way of living. By focusing on living, not losing, I would finally commit and win! It was about gaining the strength, knowledge, and ability to transform into a Good Melissa.

I believe if we focus on losing, then we will lose. It needs to be about transformation; about evolving into a healthier you. By doing this it will all fall into place. I never say, “I am on a diet,” because diets end. When diets end, those habits and their nasty cottage-cheese thigh consequences return. So, my goal is to change my life. It’s the only way I’ll save it. I am not on a diet. I am simply living my life to be a Good Melissa.

This was me on the day my nephew was born in July 2009