Disclaimer: This post is 100% raw and from myheart. It’s a post I’ve gone back and forth on sharing, but felt giving my truth to the world could help someone else find their footing on shaky ground. I’m a very insecure person, contrary to what some may believe, so posting this is a giant step out of my comfort zone. Progress at its finest, even though my heart is slamming in my chest.


Inhales deeply

            Exhales slowly


I’ve always been the girl who never felt skinny enough. Honestly, typing that makes me scoff at myself, but it’s the truth. No, I’ve never been considered morbidly overweight, or been made fun of for my size, but I’ve never felt comfortable in my own skin. Which is sad. Society does a lot of damage to a girl’s self-esteem.

My insecurities started in elementary school. Being someone who wore bifocal glasses at the age of five, with a gap between her front teeth, and an over bite for days, looking at myself in the mirror wasn’t something I was a fan of doing. So, I hid my insecurities behind goofy antics and a boisterous laugh. But with every passing day I became more and more insecure about the way I looked. Why did I have to wear thick glasses with bifocals when none of my friends did? Why did I have to wear a pirate patch to help straighten my lazy eye when no one else around me had to? Deep down I knew it was for the best, but it hurt my heart to look different than everyone else. But as the years progressed, so did my health. My lazy eye isn’t noticeable anymore, my teeth went back in my head and closed together without braces, and I learned that those hard times of looking different helped mold me into who I am today.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m still a major work in progress in so many areas. Fast forward many years and little ole insecure Savannah is still going strong. I can honestly say the last eighteen months have been a roller coaster ride, emotionally and physically. Being diagnosed with PCOS, losing loved ones, losing my fur baby to cancer who was literally my child, chasing my dreams and feeling like a failure at every turn—trying to find my footing in life when I’ve felt like the world was engulfed in flames around me and I was waiting to burn to ash. It’s been hard, yet I still know so many others have it way harder than me, but that doesn’t make the struggles any less intense now does it?

Depression and anxiety had found their way into my daily life. When I lost Jack, my fur baby, I literally cried every single day for three months straight. I mean full blown hysterical ugly crocodile tears. Hell, I’m crying just thinking about it. I couldn’t be in my house alone because the silence was deafening and his ghost was everywhere. The second day after his passing was the hardest. A giant snow kept me from being able to leave. So, I sat with my devastated heart and cried the majority of the day. I wasn’t used to the manic feelings depression and anxiety housed, and boy did they come barreling into my life without notice. Thankful to have the support system I do, I still hid behind laughter, inspirational quotes, stupid selfies, and a fake ass smile most of the time. Telling those who asked that I was okay, even though deep down I was far from okay.

My tipping point was the day I stepped on the scale and it shined a big one seven zero back at me. I cried my heart out from the sight of that number. I was spiraling from the PCOS, depression, and anxiety to the point of literally making myself ill. The following day I took a giant breath and forced myself out of bed at the crack of dawn and found some workout routine on YouTube. Did I want to work out? Hell no. Did I need to work out? Hell yes I did.

Mind you, the smallest I have ever weighed in my adult life was a hundred and forty-five pounds, which put me in a size 4/5. The heaviest I weighed was, as I said above, one hundred and seventy pounds, which put me in a size 9/10. Before you fly off the rail with a rant about that not being big, it wasn’t a good/healthy size for me at 5’5. Everyone holds weight differently, and ninety nine percent of people know that when you don’t feel good about yourself, something needs to change. I’ve always been one to weigh more than I look, and that’s okay with me, but when that number is causing my body and mind to be unhealthy, it’s time to do something about it…and that time was upon me.

For a few months I did workouts via YouTube, not really following any routine, but making sure I ate healthier. I saw a little change, but nothing even remotely close to what I was hoping for. You all know how disheartening it is to hope for something fantastic to happen and then it doesn’t. That’s how I felt when I looked at that bright blue number staring back at me. Looking at the scale and wanting to throw in the towel on the entire thing, trying to convince myself that this one-hundred-and-seventy-pound Savannah was the new norm and I’d just have to learn how to be okay with that. That was the depression and anxiety talking, which I’m glad I didn’t listen.

The turning point was when someone called me curvy. They completely shattered me, and now I’m honestly glad they said it. I know they didn’t mean it to come across negative, but it made me want to crawl in a hole and cry for ten days because I’d been beating myself up about my weight, and hearing the word curvy didn’t make me want to fist pump the air, it made me believe that they were nicely saying I had packed on some major pounds. Yet again, the depression and anxiety talking because I know someone saying your curvy isn’t them saying your overweight. Curves are wonderful in my opinion, but my mind and heart couldn’t fathom hearing it in that moment. My internal voice twisted the words and made me believe everyone around me was noticing how much weight I’d gained.

On July 25th,I woke up, clicked on the television, and took one deep ass breath. I was officially done with the person I’d become. I wanted to feel good about myself, to be a better version both mentally and physically. So, I downloaded Beachbody on Demand and loaded Autumn’s A Little Obsessed onto the screen before me. That day I took a before picture and weighed. It was horrendous for me to look at that image, still is, but I know I’m no longer that person. That person was depressed, riddled full of anxiety, and constantly trying to find clothes to hide herself behind. Yes, I still have depression and anxiety lingering within me, but I have found ways to manage it through a better diet, exercise, and finding the good in each day. After finishing the week-long program, I dived right into 80 Day Obsession. A program I’d previewed and swore I’d never be able to do. But here I am at the end of the program! Not only finding a healthier Savannah, but a completely new person than I was at the beginning of 2018.

Maybe this all sounds cliché to you, because honestly if I was reading this earlier this year I would feel the same way, but taking the first step to a better you can completely change your entire life. I no longer allow the scale to have power over me. I went into 80 Day Obsession with the mindset that I didn’t care what number stared back at me so long as I could see, and feel, a difference in myself. Which was the case.

What I’m about to say may shock people, especially Beachbody coaches if they read this, but the truth is that I didn’t follow the nutrition plan. <Insert gasp here> Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, the reasoning I didn’t follow the nutrition plan is because I knew trying to juggle working out and a nutrition plan would most likely cause me to fail. This isn’t the case for everyone, but I know my track record. So, instead of even glancing at the nutrition plan I changed the food in the house, picked healthier options when I did eat out, and yes, I still indulged in the foods I love from time-to-time. Meaning, if I wanted pizza, I ate pizza. Just in moderation and not every day or even every week. I honestly believe not allowing the number on the scale to have power over me, and creating my own nutrition plan helped me complete this program. Yes, there were days I didn’t want to work out, but I pushed myself to do it and felt a hundred times better once it was done. It became a coping mechanism for my anxiety and depression. Might not work for everyone, but yet again…it’s worked for me. Was it easy? Hell no. It was one of the hardest things I’ve done, and will continue to do.

Sitting here, about to dive into a new program, I’m thankful for Autumn and the Beachbody team. They helped me find my footing in life again when I was unsure about my health. I lost 11 pounds on the program, gained an abundance of lean muscle I’ve never had before, and am currently wearing a 6/8 in jeans. Y’all, my abs now make appearances, my collarbones do actually exist, and my slightly defined triceps and biceps even surprise me. Never in my life have those guys made an appearance on my body! Disclaimer: I’m currently bloated from that lovely time of the month every lady has to deal with, so I’ll probably be down, and a little more cut, in a few days.

Beachbody may not be for you, and that is okay. The moral of my post isn’t to try and sale you a program, or have you join my team—because I’m in no way affiliated with Beachbody—but it is to show you that taking the first step toward a better you can honest to god help you in the long run. It won’t be easy, it will definitely take dedication and time, but I promise you won’t regret it. Whether or not you know me personally, reach out if you need someone to cheer you on, because I know firsthand how much a support system means, and I have two hands extended to help lift you off the ground.


Remember, you’re allowed to be a work in progress and celebrate your accomplishments at the same time. Because we’re all a constant work in progress, right?


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