In 2010 I graduated from the University of Surrey, and worked at a radio station. A little later, my parents encouraged me to do a Master’s degree. I wasn’t keen on it. I finally had something worth being proud of in this job, and it didn’t immediately make sense to me. But I listened, and it ended up being one of the best decisions I’ve made. The first day of my Master’s degree I knew I wanted to do a PhD, and my professor encouraged it. Considering I thought I was a failure for so long, applying was one of the most audacious, faith-filled things I’ve ever done.
I made terrible choices the first couple of years of university. I was unhappy on the course, distracted by the unprecedented freedom, and dreams of practicing medicine seemed like a distant memory. The pattern of failure continued, and by this time I had zero confidence in anything I could achieve.
We all have a unique personal relationship with the word “weight.” For some, it may cast a memory of the stubborn fat around one’s midsection that never disappeared after 27. For others, it may relate to the training, resistance, and conditioning of your physical body - that desire to handle more, lift more and push more. The word “weight” may also represent the heavy load that is felt emotionally, spiritually, or mentally, and walks with us in our daily lives. Regardless of how we frame weight, there is always something we are trying to do with it, knowing full well that it is not sustainable to leave it exactly the way it is.
To become. To fully embrace oneself. To change or to grow to be.
Whether we appreciate the shifts or not, we are constantly evolving into something new. Our experiences, our interactions and our personal revelations color the way we view and engage with the world. Daily, we become updated versions of ourselves, and the happenings that we experience now serve as our reference point for tomorrow.
When situations seem stagnant, it is hard to believe that we are becoming something new. Yet at the most elementary level, we are at least a little older, perhaps a little wiser and often a little less nimble.