People struggle a lot to meet goals, and there is a lot of writing on the subject. Hey, me too! I can write about it too! As a morbidly obese alcoholic with depression, I had a lot of behavioral health goals that eluded achievement. In fact, most of my life, I knew nothing but failure on my behavioral health goals. By some measures, I was a reasonably accomplished person, but I gave up on every life goal I had for 40 years. 

From childhood, it was obvious to anyone – strangers on the street, people who loved me dearly – that I could not control my eating. I knew that in job interviews and friendly meet-ups (not first dates or dating apps – there were none of these), what people saw was not “smart and funny,” was not “kind and generous” – what they saw was “fat and lazy.” I am certain there were jobs I interviewed for but didn’t get because I wasn’t what the employer pictured for the role. 

I compensated for this by working twice as hard at my other goals. I wanted to represent my people well. I wanted to disrupt the Fat and Lazy stereotype. I waited tables fast as anyone, tirelessly, through double shifts that left my feet and knees screaming. I racked up one academic success after another – there is a working brain under all this fat. I sacrificed sleep and mental health. And I was successful by this measure. I made sure you could not miss the mind and the hustle under all that flub. I was skilled at meeting intellectual goals and bringing my mother’s ferocious work ethic to the table.

But the only goal that really mattered was losing weight. I wanted that more than academic success, or recognition at work. And I tried and I failed and tried and failed my whole life, more times than I can count. I felt like a big fat failure, no matter how many A’s I collected or performance bonuses I won. Suddenly: Keto. It worked, and I dropped from 350 pounds to 140. After a lifetime of failure….success. 

But shortly after that, I went from long-term, serious problem drinking to a life-threatening and obvious alcoholism. For years before that, I had appreciated that I drank too much, and tried unsuccessfully to cut back in a number of ways. I would make a resolution, only to backslide in a few days – often the very same day. When it became obvious that I needed to quit drinking, I had some newfound confidence from finally licking my crippling weight problem. Still, I had tried and failed so much. Could I do it? I still wasn’t sure. There were a lot of reasons I might fail.

But then – I did it! I didn’t do it perfectly, and there were some learnings along the way. But first I spent most of a year sober. Then I spent a year completely sober. Then another year sober. I discovered things about my own life that I never knew were possible. Things I could accomplish. Defeating depression. A spiritual practice. 

There are a million things that have been a happy surprise in sobriety. One of my favorites has been a sense of self-efficacy: Quitting drinking was hard, but I did it. Maybe I could exert more control over my behavioral health than I thought. Not maybe – I thought I had zero control. For decades, I had no control. And now, I could think of myself in a new way. I could picture myself as someone who could achieve, not just academic and career goals, but life goals.

My newfound confidence wavered when it came to smoking. I did quit smoking, and it was hard. It was hard the next time I quit smoking too. And the next time. I keep having to quit again because I keep going back to it. What I can say is I basically never even tried to quit smoking until I had racked up some successes in other behaviors – I didn’t even think I could. I’ve proven to myself several times now that I can quit. Now if only I can prove to myself that I’ll never go back…

So I rolled on. In there somewhere, I started meditating. When I talk about it, people say that I must be very self-disciplined to have implemented a practice with as much consistency and dedication as I have. I suppose they have a point, but for me, the benefits are so profound and so obvious that it’s the easiest decision in the world to do it every day. It’s like staying sober in this way. I guess it’s like staying low-carb, too. Life is so much better, the sacrifices required seem laughably small. 

No surprise, accomplishing all of these life goals has had a positive impact on my career goals too. In fact, when it comes to work, I’ve been able to bring confidence to challenges there that I’ve never felt before – there are a lot of problems that would have sent 39-year-old Stef spinning that 45-year-old Stef takes in stride (confidence + meditation = equanimity). I’m even writing my blog, hoping someone can relate to what they read and feel empowered to try making big life changes. 

After trying and failing to quit drinking, in particular, I wasn’t sure I could. Once I did quit, so many other goals seemed attainable. By focusing on what I gained instead of what I was giving up, I’ve been able to make great progress. Today (and hopefully forever), I’m only somewhat overweight, a nondrinker, a meditator, engaging a passion project, and still very accomplished at work. My sense of what I thought was within my control has transformed completely. I’m surrounded by several communities of people who have also made huge changes. I never thought it could happen for me, but it did. Believe me, I was a mess. If I can do it, anyone can. All of us are more changeable than we think.