How I Found Strength When I Had None Left
There was a time when I honestly didn’t feel strong. I had spent years fighting for something I wanted deeply: to become a mother. Along the way, I experienced infertility, medical procedures, pregnancy loss, and the loss of my mother. Eventually, I felt emotionally and physically exhausted. I wasn’t looking for a dramatic transformation—I was simply trying to find enough strength to take the next step.
When Everything Started to Feel Too Heavy
In 2015, I was diagnosed with infertility and told I would likely never conceive naturally. I began IVF because I wasn’t ready to give up. For years, my life revolved around treatments, procedures, surgeries, and hormone medications—more than 20 medical procedures in the first few years alone. Every treatment carried hope; every disappointment carried another layer of pain.
In 2019, I became pregnant through IVF—a baby girl, due in January 2020. At nine weeks, we learned there was no heartbeat. I lost my baby, and that was devastating. I continued IVF for another three years, still hoping.
Then there was another loss to carry. In 2017, my mother died from heart disease. I felt like I was losing pieces of myself.
I Didn’t Know How to Keep Going
After years of infertility, pregnancy loss, grief, and medical treatments, I reached a point where I felt completely overwhelmed. There were moments when I didn’t know what my future was supposed to look like. I had spent so much time trying to change circumstances I couldn’t control that I had forgotten to take care of myself.
On November 27, 2022, I decided that had to change. I couldn’t rewrite my past, but I could start making different choices for my future.
My First Steps Were Small
I started working with a dietitian, learning more about my relationship with food and working on my mindset. I completed a 28-day medically monitored program and started making changes to my nutrition. It wasn’t easy, but I began to understand that taking care of myself didn’t require having everything figured out—I just needed to start.
In January 2023, I joined EOS Fitness and began working with a personal trainer once a week. Some days I didn’t want to go, some days I struggled, but I kept showing up. Each time I did, I was proving something to myself: I was still capable of moving forward.
Finding Aquabike
In May 2023, I discovered Aquabike, attending classes three to four times a week alongside my nutrition work. After 90 days, I had dropped two clothing sizes, but the physical change wasn’t the only thing I noticed—my mood, sleep, energy, and outlook began to change.
I also found a community. I became part of what I called my “gym squad”—we supported, encouraged, and celebrated progress together. After spending so many years feeling alone in my struggles, having that support was meaningful.
Strength Didn’t Return All at Once
I used to think strength meant being able to handle everything without struggling. I see it differently now. Strength was showing up when I didn’t feel motivated. Strength was accepting help. Strength was allowing myself to grieve instead of pretending everything was fine. Strength was making one healthy choice and then making another.
There were still difficult days. But gradually, I stopped seeing myself only through the things I had lost. I began to see what I was building.
From Finding Strength to Sharing It
Eventually, my fitness journey took me somewhere I never expected. I became a fitness instructor and earned my Aquabike certification. I had started this journey simply trying to take better care of myself, and I never imagined I would eventually stand in front of a class and help other people with their fitness journeys. That became one of the most meaningful parts of my transformation—the person who once felt like she had nothing left was now helping create an encouraging environment for others.
What My Journey Taught Me
On November 27, 2022, I weighed 195 pounds. On November 27, 2025, I weighed 125 pounds. I’m proud of that physical transformation, but the number doesn’t tell the whole story. The real transformation was learning to trust myself again.
I learned that progress can happen slowly, and that consistency matters more than having a perfect day. I learned that support can make difficult journeys feel less lonely. And I learned that strength doesn’t always feel like strength while you’re building it—sometimes, strength looks like simply getting up and trying again.
My past is still part of me. I still carry the memories of my baby and my mother. But I also carry everything I built after those losses. I found strength when I thought I had none left. And I found it one small step at a time.
If you’re going through a difficult season, don’t worry about finding all your strength at once. Start with one small step you can take for yourself today. Sometimes, strength begins simply by deciding to try again tomorrow.
