From Shame to Strength: My Journey with Weight, Wellness, and Whole-Person Health

By Dr. Tomi Mitchell

Growing up, I was the chubbiest of my siblings. The only girl in a house full of boys, I stood out—and not in the way a little girl hopes to. I was reminded—sometimes gently, sometimes with that kind of bluntness only family can deliver.

Those reminders didn’t have to be loud to leave their mark. It was the passing comments, the stares at the dinner table, the unsolicited advice from relatives who meant well but had no idea what their words were doing to me. That constant “not enough” undercurrent wove into my self-image like an invisible thread.

From an early age, I became acutely aware of my body—not in the way of joyful movement or self-appreciation, but in the way that builds shame. My body became something I observed, judged, and eventually tried to fix. There was no innocence in how I viewed myself. My bloated tummy? It was public property, a punchline, a problem to be solved.

Living in a Body That Felt Like a Battleground

That little girl didn’t disappear—she just grew up. And she became a woman who brought that same hyper-vigilance into adulthood. My weight became a mental to-do list that never left me alone. No matter how healthy I ate, how hard I trained, or how closely I followed the latest research, the numbers on the scale rarely felt like a fair reflection of the effort I put in.

Let’s be honest—if weight management were purely about logic and discipline, we’d have it figured out by now. But it’s more than that. It’s metabolic. It’s emotional. It’s cultural. And for women especially, it’s often political.

There’s something uniquely painful about doing “everything right” and still feeling like you’re falling short. That kind of invisible defeat is exhausting. And unfortunately, it’s compounded by how society—and yes, even healthcare—treats people in larger bodies.

Instead of asking, “What’s your story?” we say, “You should lose weight.”

And those suggestions, however well-meaning, often land like accusations. They don’t take into account the hormonal shifts, the chronic stress, the trauma stored in cells, or the systemic barriers people face in simply accessing nutritious food or consistent movement.

It’s not just about what’s on your plate—it’s about what’s on your shoulders. And for a long time, no one cared to ask about either.

The Turning Point: Redefining Health for Myself

Today, I can say—with a kind of quiet pride—that I feel stronger and more grounded in my body than I have in years. But let me be clear: this didn’t come from chasing perfection. It came from choosing presence.

I stopped treating my body like a project. I stopped waiting for it to become “worthy” of love, rest, or attention. I started listening instead.

I tuned in to what energized me, not just physically but mentally. I paid attention to which foods nourished me rather than numbed me. I moved in ways that felt joyful, not punishing.

And slowly, the narrative began to shift.

I didn’t suddenly wake up with washboard abs. I still have bloated days. I still have moments when that old inner critic whispers something cruel when I try on jeans. But now, I meet that voice with kindness. I say, “You don’t get to run the show today.”

That’s the fundamental transformation—not the body, but the mind.

A Physician Who Gets It

Being a physician doesn’t mean I have it all figured out. It means that I understand—on a visceral, lived level—what it feels like to navigate health while carrying the weight of shame and unrealistic expectations.

I’ve sat with hundreds of patients who echo the same themes:

• “I hate looking in the mirror.”

• “I’ve tried everything, and nothing works.”

• “I just want to feel normal.”

And I feel the weight of those words each time because I’ve spoken them too.

I’ve worked with people in every life stage—from teens figuring out who they are, to parents who’ve put their health on the back burner, to older adults adjusting to bodies that no longer cooperate. And one truth keeps showing up:

How we feel in our bodies shapes how we appear in the world.

When we’re at war with ourselves, it’s hard to have energy left for connection, creativity, or joy. When we’re stuck in survival mode—chasing approval, shrinking ourselves, hiding in baggy clothes or calorie counters—we’re not living. We’re enduring.

And that’s not the life I want for you.

Why We Need to Talk About This

There’s still so much unspoken shame around body image, especially among high-achieving, capable women who are used to excelling in every other area of life. But this? This feels like the one area that keeps them stuck.

And often, they suffer in silence.

We live in a world that celebrates weight loss without asking why it happened. That congratulates people for getting smaller without checking if they’re healthier, or just more anxious, restrictive, or disconnected.

We have to get better at this.

Even within healthcare, we need a shift. A BMI chart can’t tell me your relationship with food. It can’t see the stress of single parenting, the grief of a recent loss, or the hormonal changes no one warned you about.

That’s why I share my story—not to center myself, but to open the door for others. Because when we name what’s been taboo, we loosen its grip.

What I Want You to Know

If you’ve ever looked in the mirror and felt defeated, please hear me:

• You are not broken.

• You are not lazy.

• You are not alone.

Your body is not a moral failure. It’s not a before picture waiting to be fixed.

You deserve healthcare that sees you, not just your measurements. You deserve wellness plans that include your preferences, culture, and life season.

Whether you’re trying to lose weight, maintain it, or simply make peace with your body, your journey is valid.

You don’t need a smaller body to start loving yourself. You need honesty, consistency, and support that doesn’t shame you into change but walks beside you in it.

From Here Forward

In my practice, I work with people who are looking for something deeper than a diet plan. They want healing, clarity, and relief.

We talk about hormones and hydration, yes. But we also talk about sleep, stress, boundaries, trauma, purpose, and joy.

Because proper health touches every part of you.

It’s the decision to rest when you’re tired.

It’s the courage to say no when your literal or emotional plate is already full.

It’s the choice to fuel your body like someone who deserves to feel good.

That’s the work I love most—helping people come home to themselves.

So, wherever you are on your path, I want you to know this:

You’re allowed to grow slowly.

You’re allowed to mess up and begin again.

You can be both grateful for your body and work toward change.

And if no one has told you this lately: your body is not the enemy. It's your partner. Your story. Your home.

And it deserves care, not because it’s “perfect,” but because it’s yours.

With heart,

Dr. Tomi Mitchell

MD | Holistic Wellness Strategist | Advocate | Speaker