Another Carrot, still hungry.

On weight loss, influence, and identity.

When I started blogging in 2011, I would log on and write whatever came to mind. It didn’t matter if it had a message, a product, a solution, or a POINT. It was just me talking to the world about what was going on in my life. I was a new mom on a quest to get healthy for my daughter.

I never set out to lose 100 pounds. My original goal was to lose ~50~ish pounds, which, oddly enough, would have put me about where I am today. I definitely never set out to become a social media influencer - we didn’t even call it that yet.

As a 22-year-old millennial mom on the internet, I got caught up in the sauce of it all. The program I was on told me I had to lose 100 pounds to be “healthy,” and the more I grew in the also-growing influencer space, the more I wanted to keep up with the Joneses of my new reality. If they could have an extreme transformation, so could I.

This was also The Biggest Loser era of life.

So, I did what I thought I should do - I lost 100 pounds. 105 to be exact.

You can read about what happened next in my first book, Nourish. But, I will tell you this - I did not arrive at some point of bliss and happiness. I didn’t feel “FREEEEEEE” (in my Oprah voice). I did not suddenly forget what it was like to be “fat,” or replace my identity with a new one made for a “skinny girl.” I didn’t arrive at some secret place only reserved for people who wear smaller clothes or discover some mystery happiness underneath my extra weight.

I didn’t do any of that.

I suffered.

At 145 pounds, wearing a size 2 jeans, I was suffering more than I had ever suffered before. I had built a world I struggled to belong in. I wrote about being scared of “the fat police.” I cried over food in abundance, and I was absolutely obsessed with how much I was eating or how many calories I could burn.

I devoured the proverbial carrot that I had been chasing, and I was still starving.

But on the surface:

I went on to become an online fitness coach, where I replaced a few obsessive behaviors with a few new ones. I learned about cleaner eating and followed one program after another, stopping for a satisfying binge between 21-day workout/diet regimens.

AGAIN - everyone around me was chasing a different type of success. My body became my business, and my business grew as my body and mind struggled to find its set point. My communication skills and natural leadership shone through as I climbed myself up the multi-level marketing ranks, earned all the trips, and checked all the boxes. It was rewarding in many ways, and took a different toll on the soul in many others.

In 2017, my team and I were recognized on a national stage in a big way.

We had done the “thing.”

Another carrot.

Still hungry.

Over time, I began to realize that it was the hunger inside of me that drove me to pursue every accolade and goal that I thought I should want. I had the desire to be successful and the drive to get things done. I wanted to feel important, recognized, and celebrated. And I was.

But I was starving for more.

Not more success, though.

Not more money, recognition, or weight loss.

But, more of myself. None of it had felt fulfilling in the way I imagined it would, because I had abandoned little parts of myself along the way. As my life grew around me and I tried to keep up, it felt like I looked up one day and realized I had been leaking my own “essence” along the way.

I didn’t feel like the Krystle I knew, but a version of her I had built for the world to witness while shushing and shooing the parts of myself that needed real attention.

And, my biggest fear of all?

What if it all went away?

I’d be left with ME.

Me, me, and me.

Me, myself, and I.

Krystle J-fuckin’-Bailey.

Could I handle that?

What did it even mean?

What if I couldn’t sustain this new life of success, popularity, and recognition?

Did I even want to?

What if I couldn’t sustain being skinny?

What if, without it all, I didn’t know who I was?

At the end of 2017, I started facing that fear head-on. I was still “somebody” who had written a book and made an impact, but I was only 29. As I looked toward my 30th birthday over the horizon, I longed to find my way again as I began asking new questions, seeking new meaning, and looking for the parts of myself I had misplaced.

Fast forward through a whole pandemic, a period of intense grief, and a long season of time spent alone, figuring out the answers to these questions and diving into my own healing (2021-2024), I finally started to notice something.

I felt like I was beginning to know myself again - but in an entirely new way.

Like all the wandering, experience, therapy, journaling, healing circles, and seeking were paying off, and the fruits tasted sweeter than I remembered or imagined.

Life around me was still doing what life does - but I had changed, and how I approached it all began to shift. Not in waves…but in tiny little drops of change-by-choice.

I started to feel proud of my (inner) work. Like a farmer watching crops grow, knowing what it took to care for the land and the patience required to trust yourself through the seasons.

Again - I hadn’t arrived anywhere. But, through my healing, I began to learn that that’s the point. There IS nowhere to arrive - only the journey to take. It’s the journey home to your truest self that is worth telling a story about.

As I continue to step forward on my unique path, I am practicing these new habits and a healthier self-narrative daily - some days come easier than others. I am working on presence, gratitude, and conscious thought all the time. I am always working to connect with myself, my intuition, and the God I’ve come to know. The practices I wrote about in my recent book are things I work through daily, including self-forgiveness for the choices made from pain & fear, self-trust to take the next best step even when I can’t see, self-honesty even when it’s hard af, self-intimacy because there’s nobody I want to know more, self-patience because there’s nothing to rush when you are present with someone you love…and so on.

So, do I still feel hungry?

Yes. But not in the same way.

The difference is I am no longer chasing proverbial carrots. By choice and with intention, I am tending to the fields of my self (which includes my relationship with God), to create a life of sustenance. Taking my time…enjoying the process…planting the right seeds…caring for the land….nourishing the soil…watering the grounds…and enjoying the fruits as they arrive.

I did not write ME SHAPED LOVE as a mental health specialist or coach. I wrote it as a woman who has been on a journey and crossed bridges, rocky terrains, and thunderstorms to bring a message of love back. It felt selfish to keep these findings to myself, and while the book experience may not be for everyone, it will be for the right people.

I know this journey has been on purpose. I know these words are my offering.

My job is to keep showing up for all of it - in the way that each new day brings. ((Like the summer project idea I have for my family to help heal some collective grief. :-) tell you soon.))

xo Krystle