My AI Wellness Experiment: Day 14 - Navigating the Unexpected Grief of Changing My Life 

As I wrap up week two of my wellness journey, I have to acknowledge what's going well. I've had a couple of slip-ups - because let's be honest, I'm human - but here's what feels different this time: I'm getting back on my plan instead of throwing in the towel completely. That alone feels like a victory worth celebrating. 

My high-protein, nutrient-dense approach is working. The daily movement, meditation, and gratitude journaling are becoming habits rather than chores. The 4 pounds I lost in week one weren't a fluke - my body seems to be responding to this holistic approach in ways that feel sustainable rather than punishing. I’ve been tracking my food as I go along and am noticing that the amount of protein I am eating is substancially higher than before, my carbs have dropped along with the amount of sugar. I’m also lower on the sodium so this has all likely helped. 

The Unexpected Emotional Curve Ball 

But here's what nobody warned me about: I'm grieving.

Not the dramatic, obvious kind of grief, but something quieter and more persistent. As I've been sticking to my plan, I've realized that so much of my life - my joy, my entertainment, my social connections - has been built around food and drink. And now I feel... limited. Like maybe that version of fun is over for me. 

I found myself wondering if this sadness was normal, if it would pass, or if I was somehow doing this wrong. Turns out, what I'm experiencing has a name: food grief or lifestyle grief. I'm mourning the loss of a relationship - not just with food, but with an entire way of being social and finding pleasure. 

The Reality of Real Change 

Learning that this grief is not only normal but actually a sign that I'm making meaningful changes rather than just going through the motions has been oddly comforting. I'm not just temporarily restricting myself - I'm fundamentally changing my relationship with food, entertaining, and celebration. Of course that feels like a loss, even when I know it's for the better. 

My AI wellness coach told me that the experts say this feeling typically lasts 2-6 weeks as you develop new associations and find different sources of joy. I'm right in the thick of it, which explains why week two felt emotionally harder than week one, even though I was more confident in my routine. 

Looking for Changes Beyond the Scale 

Speaking of confidence, I've been wondering when I'll start seeing the physical changes that make all this emotional work feel worth it. The answer surprised me - I'm already seeing them! That 4-pound loss was real change, not just water weight fluctuation. 

But the timeline for visible changes is longer than I expected. I might start noticing how clothes fit in the next couple of weeks, others might comment by week 4-6, and more significant body composition changes typically show up between weeks 6-12. At 61, my changes might look different than they would have in my thirties - more about how I feel and move, less about dramatic visual transformations. 

A New Way to Track Progress 

This conversation made me realize I need to start taking a different view of my progress. The scale tells such a small part of the story, especially when you're doing strength work like Pilates that builds muscle while burning fat. At my age, body composition changes - losing fat while maintaining muscle - are far more important than just seeing a number drop. 

Key Learning 

As I head into week three, I'm holding space for both the grief and the progress. I'm learning that sustainable change isn't just about willpower or perfect adherence to a plan - it's about developing resilience, finding new sources of joy, and accepting that transformation involves genuine loss alongside the gains. 

The fact that I'm getting back on track after slip-ups instead of giving up entirely tells me something fundamental has shifted. I'm not just trying to lose weight anymore - I'm learning to live differently. And apparently, that's worth grieving for, even as it's worth celebrating. 

 Maybe the real success isn't in never slipping up, but in showing up again after you do. Maybe it's in feeling the grief of letting go of old patterns while still choosing the new ones. Maybe it's in understanding that at 61, I'm not too old to completely reimagine how I find joy, connection, and celebration. 

Week three, here I come - tears, triumphs, and all. 

Lean into your grief rather than avoiding it. Acknowledging it will help you move forward. 

Check out tomorrow's post where I discover what actually happens to our fat cells when we lose weight.

Interested in reading all my experiences and conversations so far? Check them out here!