Closer to Fine

A health update about me, on the occasion of my birthday.

A few years back, two college friends died out of the blue. Their names were Magnus and Eric. Both were Black. Both were beautiful. Both apparently had health issues not well-attended. And they died almost exactly a year apart, both in their early fifties.

A mutual friend, Mia Jackson, put together what would become an annual event for Magnus and Eric’s overlapping friend groups, where we were to focus both on remembrance of Magnus and Eric, and self care. She called the focus “M+E Week” for Magnus and Eric. (“Me Week” is how we pronounce it.) It became a clarion call. A now-or-never. A warning.

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I’ve battled weight gain all my life. It’s not a unique story. [This story includes zero judgment of me or anyone else, but it may be triggering for you if you have your own challenging journey with food, health, and weight.]

My first big weight gain came when I was seventeen, when I started taking the Pill to avoid getting pregnant. Later that year, I was rowing crew in college, and my body became a strong and powerful machine, which I loved. By nineteen, though, I was depressed and ate Hot Pockets every afternoon while watching Oprah. Junior year I went into the student health center for bronchitis and came out with a piece of paper describing a 1,200 calorie diet which led to a practice of avoiding doctors. Senior year I went off with my best friend Jess (also a former athlete) to Weight Watchers at the Stanford Shopping Center, and we groaned as a bunch of middle-aged women moaned about their history of weight gain and weight loss. With the hubris of youth we drew an imaginary boundary between us and these women, who seemed to us to be old and maybe pathetic.

And yet, like those Weight Watchers women I once scoffed at, I am now middle-aged. In fact, yesterday was my 56th birthday. In the decades from age twenty-five to fifty-five I would become pre-diabetic and teeter near that dreaded line of getting the “real thing” (as I think of it). During these decades, I would lose over 300 pounds, including losing 50 pounds twice, and losing 25 pounds at least EIGHT times. Yet I found no lasting solution. And just like those women at Weight Watchers, I’ve been at the work of weight management every single day of my adult life.

I look back upon younger me and see someone smart, educated, relatively well-resourced, and yet so unfamiliar with what was happening in my own body and so afraid to confront it. I am sad for her. I want to help the me that is still her confront it. All of it.

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In 2021, shortly after our annual M+E Week, I joined the board of a non-profit organization founded forty years ago by my sister’s wife Byllye Avery, which is called the Black Women’s Health Imperative (BWHI). BWHI is the nation’s leading nonprofit supporting the health and wellness of Black women and girls. This is me (with my wonderful kids) in the fall of that year, just months after I joined the board.

And then everything changed. Serving on the board of BWHI, where I pored over their reports, watched their videos, digested the testimonies, I found myself and my situation in the work of this mighty nonprofit.

Two years later, thanks to BWHI, I’ve “changed my lifestyle and changed my life.” (This is the name of BWHI’s signature diabetes management program). My cholesterol is down, my blood glucose is down, my A1c is down, and – just look at my face – I’ve lost 15% of my body weight.

I’m grateful for the clarity that got me here. The guts. The work. And my willingness to stare hard truths in the face. I’m also grateful for the privilege of health care. My journey is a complicated one. (If you care to, you can read more about why I avoided doctors all my life here. If you want to read about my (failed) battle to get my health insurance company to cover the medication my doctor prescribed me last year, it's here. If you want to read about my intimate conversation with a phlebotomist who confessed to me that she was afraid to get a mammogram, it's here. Yes, even as I am about the work of my self and my body, I am deeply interested in supporting others on their similar journey!)

And now, on the occasion of my 56th birthday, I just want to pour a heart full of thanks onto the Black Women’s Health Imperative for inspiring me to make the changes that are likely to ensure that I live a longer, healthier, happier life. I was going to post this story on “Giving Tuesday” (yesterday, and my actual birthday) but as we all know, there is so much internet NOISE on Giving Tuesday. So, I decided to wait a day. My ask of you today is, if you have any dollars left to give, and you want to show that you’re proud of me, which I would very much appreciate 😊 please join me in donating to the Black Women’s Health Imperative. You can donate here. When you get to the donation page,

You could:

Give $170 because my cholesterol is down to 170!

Give $87 because my glucose is down to 87!

Give $56 for my 56th birthday!

Give $36 for the 36 pounds I've lost!

Any amount you decide to donate (do so here) will be well-utilized by the Black Women’s Health Imperative. And in anticipation of whatever you may feel moved to do, please know that I and BWHI are grateful. 

xo

🤗 Here’s a hug for all the people doing their best to work on their health right now.

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