Writing From Where I am
On Publishing, Progress, and the Next Chapter of Weight Loss
"I set out on my morning walk planning to think about book launches and marketing plans—but somewhere between the humid air and my own heartbeat, my thoughts turned to something more personal: what comes after weight loss?"
This morning, I set out for a walk in the park, the air thick with pre-storm humidity—one of those mornings in New Orleans where you can practically feel the rain gathering above you. I planned to spend those 45 minutes of uninterrupted peace thinking through an article tied to my latest book launch. Instead, I found my mind drifting away from publishing timelines and press releases, and toward something more personal: my weight loss journey, and whether it's time to write a follow-up to The GLP-1 Revolution.
Sometimes, you just have to write what’s on your mind. That realization pulled me gently off the track of online dating, love, and apps—which are the heartbeat of my newest book, ChatGPT is My Wingman—and back into a different kind of story. As a writer and publisher, I’ve never been especially obedient to conventional wisdom. I’ve sidestepped more writing advice than I’ve followed (sometimes to my benefit, sometimes not). What I have done is figure out how to produce and self-publish nonfiction in a way that’s created a meaningful new stream of income—and, unexpectedly, a whole new kind of purpose.
I love the publishing process: the messy middle, the long game of getting a book into readers’ hands. Marketing, though still something of a mystery to me, has slowly become less daunting. More than anything, I’ve come to love researching and writing nonfiction—posing the questions I wish someone else had answered for me, and then finding a way to make those answers engaging and genuinely useful for others. There’s something incredibly satisfying about that.
But I’ll admit: I’m a bit undisciplined in what I choose to write about. I’ve read every “write what you know” and “write what you love” mantra out there—and I take them perhaps too seriously. I’m not trying to write the next Great American Novel or chase literary acclaim through long nights of tortured prose. I write to explore, to clarify, and yes, to entertain. It’s taken me a while to embrace that. And because my interests are ever-shifting, I may end up with five different pen names over the next five years—and I’m okay with that.
While I do write from a place of expertise in several areas, the truth is that I tend to write about what’s most alive for me at any given moment. And right now, that’s my continued weight loss journey. So, in true form, this post is as much about publishing as it is about pounds, progress, and the complexity of change.
When I wrote The GLP-1 Revolution, I was in the thick of it—living the experience as I was documenting it. The book is grounded in my personal story, yes, but it’s also full of research and the real voices of others navigating the same path. I wanted to understand not just the science of GLP-1 medications, but also how they were reshaping lives.
Now, many months later, the terrain has shifted. The beginner questions I once had—about side effects, hunger cues, meal prep—have been replaced by deeper, more nuanced inquiries. I recently listened to my book on Audible (a surreal and surprisingly fun experience), and I still feel proud of the honest, down-to-earth tone and practical value. But I can also see just how far I’ve come.
Today, I’m wrestling with questions that are harder to articulate. They aren’t always found in research studies, though some of them are. They live at the intersection of mind and body—questions about identity, about what it means to arrive at a goal, and what happens when that goal no longer fits. They’re questions about confidence, desire, the way we see ourselves in photos, in mirrors, in crowds. About emotional set points, not just weight ones.
There are still superficial moments, of course—like noticing how certain clothes fit or hearing someone’s surprised reaction when they haven’t seen me in a while. But the internal shifts are harder to describe, and somehow more profound. They are the kind of milestones that don’t show up on a scale.
And so, a new outline is forming. A new book—one that explores not just weight loss, but the psychological terrain that follows it. One that acknowledges the emotional recalibration that begins when the medical markers improve, when the “before and after” photos are taken, and the question becomes: Now what?
Writing this book may stretch me more than the first. It will likely push me to be more vulnerable, to explore the terrain of feelings I usually keep tucked away behind research and structure. But I think it’s the book I want to write—even if it takes longer, even if it asks more of me.
If there’s one truth I’ve landed on so far, it’s this: GLP-1 medications are an incredible tool. They can give you back control when your body has felt like a mystery or an enemy. But once the numbers on the scale and the lab reports begin to glow, what’s left is everything in your head—and your heart.
And that, perhaps, is where the real revolution begins.
Which brings me to what’s next.
These are the questions I’ve been turning over lately—some practical, some deeply personal. They’re shaping the direction of my next book, and maybe they’ll resonate with you, too:
Beyond the Scale: 11 Questions About Life After Weight Loss
What happens after you hit your "goal weight"? Is it satisfying, or just the start of a new emotional journey?
1. How do you redefine your identity after major weight loss? What happens when the outside changes, but the inside needs time to catch up?
2. Does confidence naturally grow with weight loss, or is it something you still have to build?
3. What does it actually mean to feel "normal" in your body again—and is that even the right goal?
4. How do you maintain progress without tipping into obsession? What does sustainable success look like?
5. What do you do when old habits start creeping back in? How do you handle emotional eating or negative self-talk when they reappear?
6. What role does clothing play in self-image post-weight loss? Why do some shopping trips feel empowering, while others bring up old insecurities?
7. Can a number on the scale really define happiness? What's the difference between a health milestone and true contentment?
8. How do you share your transformation without reducing yourself to "just" a weight loss story?
9. Have your goals changed since starting the journey? If so, why—and what are they now?
10. What can you practically do about loose skin, new wrinkles, or that "deflated balloon" effect? Are there treatments, timeframes, or mindset shifts that truly help you feel more like you again?
💬 Let’s Talk About It
Do any of these questions resonate with you?
Are you navigating similar thoughts or facing unexpected challenges in your own journey?
I’d love to hear from you.
Drop a comment below, reply to this post, or send me a message. Your insights might shape this next book—and more importantly, they could help someone else feel less alone.
P.S. If you're interested in being a beta reader, sharing your story, or seeing early drafts of this new book project, let me know. I’m opening this journey up a bit more this time around.
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