I stood in my bedroom, holding my breath, pulling at the zipper with everything I had. My favorite black dress – the one I wore to my wedding anniversary just two years ago – wouldn't budge past my waist. That's when it hit me. I wasn't just "a little heavier." I had become someone I didn't recognize. The woman staring back at me in the mirror wasn't the confident mother and wife I used to be. She was tired, defeated, and hiding behind baggy clothes and forced smiles. That moment changed everyth

I stood in my bedroom, holding my breath, pulling at the zipper with everything I had. My favorite black dress – the one I wore to my wedding anniversary just two years ago – wouldn't budge past my waist. That's when it hit me. I wasn't just "a little heavier." I had become someone I didn't recognize. The woman staring back at me in the mirror wasn't the confident mother and wife I used to be. She was tired, defeated, and hiding behind baggy clothes and forced smiles. That moment changed everyth