Choosing Trust Over Proof | Stress-Related Weight Gain

This Isn’t a Before-and-After Story

I skipped the before pictures. I skipped the measurements. I skipped stepping on the scale.

Not because I was afraid of the numbers. But because this decision needed to be different.

For this to be impactful — for it to last — I knew I had to change what I focused on. This isn’t about proving anything.

It’s about remembering who I am.

For a long time, the hardest part hasn’t been the weight.

It’s been not recognizing myself. Not knowing how to restore that confident feeling of “I’ve got this.”

That confidence isn’t about size or appearance. It’s the ability to face life. Move through it. Engage with it.

When that confidence wanes, more than your body changes. The way you let people treat you shifts. The things you tolerate. The things you’re willing to overlook.

And somewhere along the way — through stress, hormones, menopause, and the last nineteen months of injury and recovery — I lost that feeling.

In my mind, I still see myself as a size 2. And then I catch my reflection and feel the urge to shatter the mirror.

Not because I hate my body. But because I don’t recognize it. Because I don’t recognize me on so many levels.

That disconnect has been harder to reconcile than any number on a scale.

I share this part because context matters.

I’ve been committed to a natural lifestyle for years.

Four years ago, I intentionally reconnected with my kitchen — preparing and cooking food that isn’t dependent on processed foods. I make mocktails designed to support serotonin, GABA, dopamine, adaptogens, and nootropics. I rely on meal replacement smoothies as functional nourishment, not punishment.

I share all of this freely. The recipes. The journeys. The experiments.

And still — cravings crept in. Snacking became automatic. My metabolism slowed. And over time, my interest in life and people quietly dulled.

It became a vicious circle. Stress fed cravings. Cravings fed shame. Shame fed withdrawal.

The weight didn’t just show up on my body. It showed up in my willingness to be seen.

I stopped wanting to go out. Stopped wanting to be in pictures. Even though the people who love me never stopped loving me. They adapted. The weight became part of how they knew me.

I’m about forty pounds heavier than I want to be. I don’t picture myself as obese — yet I know a chart might say otherwise. That word doesn’t land for me. Not because I’m in denial, but because it ignores context.

Add menopause to the mix.

This didn’t happen because I stopped caring. It happened because my body was surviving.

When Stress-Related Weight Gain Isn’t About Willpower

Looking back, I can see how much of this was rooted in stress-related weight gain. Not the kind that comes from overeating or neglect, but the kind that builds quietly when hormones shift, movement changes, and the nervous system stays on high alert for too long.

Understanding that has helped me release some of the self-blame I didn’t realize I was carrying.

Here’s the part that’s uncomfortable to admit.

I’m a certified mental wellness coach. I help other women understand stress, hormones, digestion, and the nervous system every day. I know the science. I know the patterns.

And still — I felt stuck. Standing still while the needle refused to move.

Knowing a lot doesn’t always make it easier when it’s your own body. Sometimes it makes it harder.

What changed recently wasn’t a diet. It wasn’t a supplement. It wasn’t discipline. It wasn’t willpower.

What changed was how I was relating to my body.

It was choice.

"Sometimes the body doesn’t need to be pushed harder. It needs to feel safe enough to let go." - Nelea Lane, CMWC

I noticed how oversized portions had quietly become normal. I noticed how easily I could stop eating — not because I should, but because I was satisfied. I noticed the absence of sugar and salt cravings. The neutrality around bread and chips.

For the first time in a long time, I could stand in front of the refrigerator and ask: What do I actually feel like eating?

Not out of restriction. Out of clarity.

My digestion became regular. My thirst cues returned. My mood softened.

And with that came something I didn’t realize I was missing.

Not excitement. Not motivation.

But a sense of orientation. A quiet gratitude. The feeling that maybe nothing needed to be fixed — just listened to.

This doesn’t feel like dieting. It feels like cooperation.

I’m not forcing my body to comply. I’m listening.

I don’t know exactly how this will unfold. I don’t need it to unfold perfectly.

What I know is this: I’m changing my relationship with my body. And with food. Not by controlling them. But by trusting them again.

If you’re reading this and feel like you’ve done the right things but your body hasn’t reflected the effort — it doesn’t have to feel hopeless.

Sometimes the body doesn’t need to be pushed harder. It needs to feel safe enough to let go.

This is where I am. And for the first time in a long while — it feels sustainable.

Nelea R. Lane

a/k/a The Happy Juice Chick Founder, The Stress Less Era

Available by Text: 936-209-7222

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