Years ago, I read that our bodies are always working toward perfect health, and I believe that to be true. Our bodies are wired to heal. When I get a cut, I don’t have to think about the intricate biological processes at play—my body just knows what to do. If I get a bruise, the discoloration fades as my body repairs the damaged tissue.
In my core, I believe that my body is always working toward healing. It’s constantly repairing, rebuilding, and restoring balance. All I have to do is get out of the way.
And what does “getting out of the way” mean? It means giving my body the nutrients it needs to do its job and stopping the cycle of intaking junk that hinders the body’s ability to function optimally. It means treating food as fuel, not just as a source of comfort or entertainment.
But do I always do that? Not even close.
For years, I’ve fed my body too much of the wrong things—processed foods, excess sugar, and generally a lot of mindless snacking. Instead of allowing my body to focus on healing, I’ve forced it into perpetual crisis mode, making it work overtime to process and eliminate the garbage I’ve been consuming.
For the past few months though, I’ve been making a real effort. I’ve been eating better—not perfectly, but more healthfully. I’ve been more mindful of my portions, adding more protein and vegetables, and trying to stay within a reasonable calorie range. I’m not on some extreme diet, just making more intentional choices.
And yet… the scale hasn’t shown progress that I would have expected.
Am I frustrated? Absolutely. I’d be lying if I said otherwise.
But then I started thinking—what if my body is healing? What if, now that I’m not constantly overwhelming it with junk, it finally has the energy to work on deeper, more important things?
Maybe it’s repairing years of damage I can’t see. Maybe it’s strengthening my immune system, protecting my liver, or balancing my hormones. Maybe it’s preventing illness before it has a chance to take root. Maybe it’s fighting for me in ways I don’t even realize.
And if that’s the case, how could I possibly be upset?
The weight loss will come when my body is ready—when it’s finished with the more pressing issues it needs to handle first. Until then, my job is simply to keep going. To keep fueling my body with good food. To keep trusting that every healthy choice I make is a step in the right direction, even if I can’t see the results immediately.
And if none of this is true—if my body isn’t secretly healing in ways I can’t see—at least I’ve found a way to stay motivated. Because at the end of the day, eating well is still the right choice.
So I’m sticking with it. I’m trusting my body. And I’m getting the hell out of its way.
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