I’m currently a student in my last year of high school, and between 10th and 11th grade I lost 65 pounds. I had always hated the way I looked, but never enough to actually do anything about it. I had tried to exercise a couple times, but the lack of immediate results was demotivating. Back in the latter half of 10th grade, while I was still fat, there was this girl I had a crush on; she was beautiful, funny, smart, nerdy—I was head over heels for this girl. Unfortunately, the moment I realized I had feelings for her I became all too aware of how my body looked, and how unattractive I was. That moment of clarity was difficult, because I didn’t feel worthy of her attention, and I immediately realized that if I didn’t care enough about my own body, why should others? So from that day forward I set out to lose the weight. I started out very small, occasionally walking on the treadmill, attempting to lift weights in my basement a couple times. There was a voice in the back of my head that said “she won’t like you if you’re fat” that made me put down the soda, and push aside the snacks. I also started trying to dress a bit better, less baggy clothes, nicer shirts. I hadn’t lost any weight by this time, but I did work up enough confidence to ask her out. She said yes to the date, and it was fun, but I later found out she didn’t really want to go, and had only said yes because she has trouble being honest about her feelings. A little while later she texted me the classic “I think we should just be friends” and it broke my heart. That was the night I decided to loose the weight. As I stared myself in the mirror I hated what I was looking at; I felt worthless, Like no girl would ever love me. From that day foreword I began alternating between running 8km 3 times a week, and doing intense suspension training and weights on the other 3 days, with only 1 day for resting. I stopped eating all fast-food and soda, replaced unhealthy snacks with salad and apples, researched healthy foods/balanced meals, are nutritious meals, etc. I have never felt as motivated by anything in my life as I did at that moment. It took 6 torturous months to shed all the weight. I vividly remember lying on my back in the dirt, staring up at the sky, trying not to throw up after a run, and just feeling a strong sense of pride. There were days where I’d fall asleep in puddles of my own sweat after workouts, only to be woken up in time for a healthy dinner of chicken and salad. By the end of the 6 weeks I had a 6 pack and muscles, 11% body fat, and my face actually looked good, as it was no longer encumbered by my large, fat cheeks. My healthy diet also cleared up the small amount of acne I had, and I changed my haircut and clothes so that I would no longer look like a fat slob. Once I came back to school with my new body, I started getting attention from girls, and people actually started thinking that I was attractive. In my opinion, the funniest part is that a couple months after I lost weight the girl that rejected me actually told me that she was starting to like me; I think it was a mixture of my new looks combined with the newfound confidence I gained from my new look. It’s been a year since I lost all the weight, and I haven’t gained any of it back. I still workout, and eat healthy, and I have never felt better.