I have lost 50 pounds since COVID, not in six weeks, six months, or even a year. It has taken several years, a few pounds here and a few pounds there, through gradual changes in my diet, nutrition, exercise, and how I manage life’s everyday stresses. Some years, the scale barely moved. Other years, I lost a little more. No grand announcement or dramatic reveal. I carried on with my life, made healthier choices along the way, learned what worked for me, and accepted that progress doesn’t always happen as quickly as we would like.
And then something rather curious happened. After losing the last 10 or 15 pounds, people suddenly started noticing. Comments about how much weight I had lost, how different I looked, and questions about what I had done began appearing in conversations. I have even received private messages asking how I did it. I know these comments are generally intended as compliments, and I appreciate the kindness behind them. But I must admit, I find the attention rather awkward. What exactly am I supposed to say? Thank you? Explain what I eat for breakfast? Provide a detailed account of my exercise routine and the ups and downs of the past several years? And perhaps the more important question is, does it really matter?
When Did Our Bodies Become Everyone’s Business?
I have been thinking about why we feel so comfortable commenting on other people’s weight. Somewhere along the way, we seem to have accepted that losing weight is something to celebrate publicly, while gaining weight is something best left unmentioned. We associate smaller bodies with discipline, attractiveness, happiness, and success, often without knowing anything about someone’s health or personal circumstances. Yet weight loss does not necessarily mean someone is healthier or happier. People lose weight for many reasons, including intentional lifestyle changes, illness, grief, anxiety, medication, or circumstances they may prefer to keep private. We cannot know what someone is experiencing just by looking at them, and perhaps we shouldn’t assume we have the right to ask.
I am not suggesting that people stop being kind or offering encouragement. Quite the opposite. I believe we need more kindness, compassion, and genuine human connection. But perhaps we could become a little more thoughtful about what we choose to celebrate. What interests me most about my own experience is that the meaningful changes happened long before anyone noticed the weight loss. Over the years, I gradually became more conscious of my nutrition, paid attention to how different foods made me feel, and continued swimming, cycling, walking, and finding ways to stay active because movement brings me joy. I also began paying closer attention to stress, something that can quietly influence so many aspects of our physical and emotional well-being.
None of this happened perfectly. Some days I didn’t feel like exercising, sometimes life felt overwhelming, and at times the scale didn’t move at all. But I kept going, not to impress anyone or because I believed losing weight would somehow make me a better person. I wanted to take care of myself and keep enjoying the activities and adventures that give my life meaning. That’s what I find amusing about the attention I am getting now. Nobody sent me a private message congratulating me on managing my stress. Nobody stopped me to admire my commitment to eating more nutritious meals. Nobody asked how I had managed to keep swimming, cycling, and moving my body through the years. But lose the final 10 or 15 pounds, and suddenly everyone wants to know the secret. Perhaps we are noticing the wrong things.
More Than a Number on the Scale
At 60, I have come to appreciate my body differently. I care less about looking younger and more about staying strong, healthy, curious, and capable as I grow older. I want to swim across lakes, ride my bicycle, hike mountain trails, travel to unfamiliar places, and continue experiencing the extraordinary privilege of being alive. I want to carry my own luggage, climb the stairs, dance when the music is good, and enjoy a wonderful meal without turning every bite into a calculation.
I want to live fully, and while I am pleased to have lost 50 pounds, I am equally proud of the woman I was before. She was still accomplished, compassionate, adventurous, and determined. She had already faced challenges, celebrated successes, loved deeply, made mistakes, and learned lessons that no bathroom scale could measure. She was not less worthy because she weighed more. She was not waiting to become someone better. She was already enough.
I think we sometimes forget this, particularly as women. We spend so much of our lives being encouraged to improve ourselves, become smaller, look younger, and somehow resist the natural process of ageing. We are surrounded by advertisements promising to reverse time, reshape our bodies, and restore some idealized version of youth. But our bodies are not problems waiting to be solved. They are part of our stories. They carry us through childhood, adulthood, relationships, careers, parenthood, loss, joy, illness, recovery, and everything in between. Surely, after all that, they deserve a little kindness rather than a lifetime of criticism.
Perhaps we could begin encouraging one another differently. Instead of asking how much weight someone has lost, we could ask how they are doing. Rather than focusing on changes in appearance, we could celebrate the things people choose to share about their lives. We could encourage the friend who has started walking regularly, the neighbour who has returned to swimming, or the family member who is learning to manage stress. We could recognize someone’s perseverance, courage, kindness, or willingness to begin again after a difficult period. We could also remember that wellness looks different for everyone. For one person, it might mean running a marathon. For another, it might mean walking to the mailbox after recovering from an illness. For someone else, it might mean getting through a difficult day, asking for help, preparing a nutritious meal, or finally allowing themselves to rest. All of these experiences deserve respect, whether or not they result in a visible physical change.
The Quiet Power of Small Changes
Looking back, I realize that losing 50 pounds was never one big decision. It was hundreds of small decisions made over several years. Some were easy, while others required patience, persistence, and forgiveness when things did not go as planned. And perhaps that is the lesson I want to share. Meaningful change does not always happen quickly, and it does not always happen where others can see it. Sometimes progress is quiet. It happens when we choose to go for a walk, even when we would rather stay home; when we make time to prepare a nourishing meal; or when we recognize we are overwhelmed and allow ourselves to rest. It happens when we stop punishing ourselves for yesterday and begin again today. And sometimes, despite all our efforts, the results are not what we expected. That does not mean we have failed.
Wellness is not a race, and it is certainly not a competition to see who can become the smallest, youngest-looking, or most disciplined version of themselves. It is an ongoing relationship with ourselves, one that deserves patience, compassion, and care. So yes, I have lost 50 pounds since COVID, very slowly, and apparently people are only noticing now. I appreciate the compliments, even if I am still learning how to respond to the questions. But I hope my experience encourages us to think differently about how we acknowledge one another. We never really know what someone else is experiencing, what they are working towards, or how much effort goes into the changes we eventually see. Perhaps we could spend less time commenting on people’s bodies and more time recognizing their kindness, accomplishments, and the everyday efforts they choose to share.
If there is one thing I hope readers take away from my experience, it is that we should be kind to people at every stage of their lives, not just when we notice a change in their appearance. Encourage the healthy choices they choose to share, celebrate their courage and small victories, and remember that everyone is carrying a story we cannot see. Most importantly, extend that same kindness to yourself. You do not have to lose weight, change your appearance, or become someone different to deserve respect, encouragement, or happiness. You deserve those things right now. The woman I was 50 pounds ago deserved them just as much as the woman I am today.
My body is not a before picture. It is the body that has carried me through 60 years of living, learning, loving, struggling, and discovering who I am. I intend to keep caring for it, one day and one healthy decision at a time, not because anyone is watching, but because I still have so much living I want to do.
Amy Tucker proudly calls herself an “accidental athlete.” As a senior swimmer and long-distance open-water enthusiast, she has represented Team Canada on the Age-Group Triathlon Team for the past three years. Amy is passionate about encouraging others to embrace fitness and wellness at any stage of life, proving it’s never too late to chase new challenges.