Always on the hunt for new ways to lose weight? Read this.

“Okay, now take off your shirt and let’s see how your stomach is coming along,” said my trainer.

I stripped off my tank top, revealing my black Target sports bra, feeling slightly embarrassed for not having high-quality fitness clothing when I’m sure he assumed I would.

“Never be seen out in public without wearing your Fitness DVD look!” he used to say.

Pulling out his calipers, he grabbed my belly fat and pinched and pulled until he could measure it with his device.

We were standing in a wall-to-wall mirrored group fitness studio, I was half naked, and he was measuring my fat. This is my nightmare.

Regardless, I couldn’t help but feel an instant high being poked and prodded and told what areas of my body needed the most work.

“Good, you’ve dropped a few percentages. We still have a long way to go in this area, but as long as you still aren’t eating any fruit, this will trim down quickly,” he said tugging at my love handles.

“I haven’t had any fruit in months,” I said. “But the amount of protein you have me on is making me feel stuffed all the time. I also have gas, terrible digestion, and I feel really down all the time.” (Think typical meathead stereotype)

“Well enjoy it while it lasts because from here on out, we’re going to be dropping 100 calories per week,” he said.

Oh, that’s right, I thought. Before I know it, I’ll be at the 1100 calorie mark and working out a whopping two hours per day.

It was 2013 and I was prepping for my second fitness competition, but this time I was determined to win. I had lost my period for this event, I had isolated myself, I had cut out all my favorite foods, and I was flirting on the edge of depression.

Self-sabotaging habits brought me a sense of comfort that nothing else could. Every time I successfully completed another fasted cardio session, or ate chicken breast and broccoli out of Tupperware, I felt relieved. Having control over my food, and therefore my body, brought me a false sense of control that no other action could supply.

Sure, it was a fleeting sense of control, but regardless, it was instant.

Not only did my diet bring me satisfaction in feeling like I have it all together, but people looked up to me and called me when they needed help getting in shape or when they “felt fat” and wanted to lose weight. I was the go-to-girl!

There were a few morality-issues I faced, knowing full well deep down that I was mentally and physically sick, but my Instagram feed would never show that side of me.

I was perfectly packaged up with the word “fit” and “healthy” all because of my aesthetics, meaning, more motivation for me to stay on track with my restrictive diet.

Parting ways with my trainer, I promised him that I would send him my My Fitness Pal food log at the end of the day so that he could see I was staying on track with my sugar count. I wasn’t “allowed” to go over 10 grams a day and this ensured I would stay accountable.

I was in a relationship with my trainer, my food, and my barbells. On the outside, I tried so hard to act like this relationship with serving me well, but it was destroying me with every unnecessary pound lost.

Human beings are made to love and be loved. I found out the hard way what happens when you invest all of your time, energy and love into something that will never love you back.

I fell into a dark cycle that consisted of dieting, starvation, weight loss, weight gain, guilt, shame, dieting, starvation, weight loss, weight gain, and back around.

On the outside, my social media followers and friends continued to compliment me saying things like,

“You look great! What are you doing and how are you eating?”

“Whoa, you’re so fit! This isn’t the same body I saw last time!”

“Can you train me?”

These “compliments” felt so good. For about ten minutes.

When the feeling of admiration and recognition failed to sustain me, I would turn to dieting and controlling my food more and more, to ensure that the compliments continued to roll in.

That is, until my second fitness competition came and went.

After avoiding fruit for the entire competition prep, stuffing my face with ungodly amounts of protein, and avoiding all Friday night social interactions, I had finally created a perfect body; a body that almost killed me emotionally and physically.

After walking out on the stage, I could tell I wasn’t going to place in the top five in my class, and certainly not first. I was devastated. Tears were rolling down my face as I strained a smile on the stage (and sucked in my abs), and I immediately flashed back to all of the moments during my prep that I should have been training.

I didn’t do enough. I didn’t place high enough. I wasn’t enough.

As unfortunate as these thoughts were, I am eternally grateful for hitting rock bottom that night.

I realized how tired I was of being so mean to myself. I also realized that giving judges (who I would never actually meet) permission to rank my worth would never bring me the satisfaction my heart desired. I desired to be loved by myself, and a panel of judges would never be able to bring that feeling to me. Only I could do that.

The moment I set out to regain my period, eat more food, sleep harder, balance my hormones, enjoy social events, and take care of myself, the course of my entire life changed.

Hitting rock bottom and giving up “fitness” saved my life. No amount of chicken, dumbbells, or body fat percentage drops could ever bring me the happiness that I now feel in my body since learning how to accept and even appreciate my imperfections.

Hitting “body image rock bottom” saved her self image. Have you ever felt this way? #bodyimage

After that competition, I ended up changing my environment drastically. I quit my gym membership and joined group classes that promoted less focus on individual aesthetics and more on having fun.

I began to eat intuitively and mindfully as I backed out of the dieting scene.

None of the changes I made were easy by any means, and collectively, reclaiming my health took a full year. Patience and compassion for my journey was key for ending the shame and guilt that kept creeping up, trying to manipulate me back into my old ways.

Through the entire process, I learned one huge lesson. Fitness does not mean leanness. Fitness is living a lifestyle that makes you feel your absolute best.

No judge in the world can ever take that feeling away from you.