For a long time, my social life was built around food and drink. That is not necessarily a bad thing. I love going out for dinner. I love a coffee and cake situation. I love a good afternoon tea. I love a red wine, an Aperol Spritz in the sun, and I am absolutely not pretending I have suddenly become the sort of person who does not enjoy Ben & Jerry’s.
But there came a point where I realised my relationship with food had become a little bit thoughtless.
A weekend away would revolve almost entirely around where we were eating. A Saturday afternoon could quite easily become 3,000 or 4,000 calories without me really noticing. Sugary drinks, cocktails, snacks, desserts, meals out, little extras. Individually, none of it felt like a huge issue. Added together, it became a lifestyle that was making me feel worse.
When I decided I wanted to lose weight and take my health seriously, one of my biggest fears was that I would have to give up the bits of life I enjoyed.
- I did not want to become boring.
- I did not want to stop seeing people.
- I did not want to be the person at dinner making everyone else feel awkward.
- I did not want my whole personality to become calories, gym sessions and refusing pudding.
The biggest lesson I have learned is that it does not have to be like that.
I did not stop enjoying food, I changed how I approached it
The biggest shift for me was not cutting everything out. It was becoming more aware.
I started limiting my intake, counting calories and making indulgences less frequent rather than completely forbidden. That was important, because the minute you tell yourself you can never have something again, you seem to want it ten times more.
I still enjoy treats. I still have drinks. I still go out. But I am much better at understanding the difference between enjoying something and letting one treat turn into a whole weekend of overdoing it. Instead of ordering a large Papa John's Pizza, then rounding it off with an entire tub of Ben & Jerry's Cookie Dough, and then going back for a family sized bar of Cadbury's Whole Nut (no, this isn't exaggerating, this was an average Friday Night); I started swapping out the Papa John's for a small sourdough pizza and a tub of Ben & Jerry's before slowly going for one or the other.
Food became something I tried to see more as fuel. If I fill up on the good stuff first, I am much less likely to spend the day grazing on things that leave me feeling sluggish, bloated and annoyed with myself.
That sounds simple, but it changed a lot.
Eating out became easier with a bit of planning
I still eat out, but I became more intentional about it.
Where possible, I like to have some control over which restaurant we go to. Not because I want to be difficult, but because it helps me make better choices. I will often look at the menu online beforehand and pick out a couple of options that work for me.
That way, I do not arrive hungry, overwhelmed and tempted by everything on the menu.
I also learned to “bank” calories for meals I was really looking forward to. If I know I am going out for dinner or having drinks, I will make lighter choices earlier in the day. It is not about punishment. It is just balance.
That mindset helped me keep a social life without feeling like I had failed every time I went out.
Alcohol was a bigger factor than I realised
I still love an Aperol Spritz. But I am much more aware now of how easy it is to drink your calories. A few cocktails can add up very quickly, especially when they are followed by food, snacks or the inevitable late-night “shall we get something on the way home?” moment.
So now I count drinks.
Not in a joyless way. I am not sitting there with a spreadsheet at the bar. But I am aware of how many I have had, how often I am drinking, and whether it is actually worth it. Sometimes it is. An Aperol in the sun with friends is still one of life’s great pleasures. But I know when to stop now, and that has made a big difference.
Compliments helped more than I expected
For the first few months, nobody really noticed. That can be quite strange when you are putting effort in. You feel like everything has changed, but to the outside world, nothing seems to have shifted. Then, around the nine-month mark, when I was starting to feel a bit stuck, people began to notice.
The compliments were not just about my waistline. People commented on my skin, my energy and my strength. That meant a lot.
It was not about needing validation, but those comments came at exactly the right time. They reminded me that progress was happening, even when I could not always see it myself. They kept me going. 18 months in, and that's when people really started noticing, and now over 2 & a half years later, they mean a lot and keep me maintaining.
One treat does not ruin everything
One of the most helpful things I saw on Instagram was from a personal trainer called Jordan Wilson. He made the point that if you burnt your hand on the oven, you would not go and burn the rest of your arm. So why do we do the equivalent with food? That really stuck with me.
If you have one over-indulgent meal, it does not mean the whole day, weekend or week is ruined. You do not need to spiral. You do not need to punish yourself. You just carry on. That has been one of the biggest mindset changes for me. Before, one “bad” meal could become an excuse to give up completely. Now, I try to see it for what it is: one meal.
Balance is the thing that made it sustainable
I am now around 75 to 80kg, and I feel like a very different person to the one who started this journey. But the most important part is that I still feel like me. I still go out. I still enjoy good food. I still have drinks. I still love sweet treats. I still want life to be fun. The difference is that most of the time, I make healthier choices. Then, every so often, I go out and enjoy the Aperol, the afternoon tea, the ice cream or the meal with friends.
And I enjoy it more because it feels like a choice, not a habit I cannot control. Losing weight did not mean losing my social life. It meant learning how to enjoy it properly. Even incorporating physical activity into my social life, like a game of badminton, a walk along the seafront, a swim on a Sunday afternoon; things I never would have associated with being 'sociable' before.