(Written from James’s perspective)
Losing a huge amount of weight changes far more than your clothes, your meals, or the number you see on the scales. It changes you — or at least, it changes the version of you the world sees. And if I’m being really honest, I’m still trying to figure out who that version actually is.
I’ve said before that I went into gastric sleeve surgery for my health, mobility, and long-term future. But nothing prepared me for the identity shift that followed. No one really talks about what it’s like to look in the mirror and not recognise the person staring back at you. I certainly didn’t.
This post isn’t advice.
It’s not a guide.
It’s just me being open about the emotional side of weight loss that doesn’t make the highlight reel.
The Body in the Mirror Doesn’t Match the Brain
Body dysmorphia is a strange, exhausting companion. I can see the photos, the progress charts, the clothes that used to be tight enough to hurt — all proving I’ve lost a huge amount of weight. But my brain hasn’t caught up. When I look in the mirror, I don’t see “me”. I see… someone else entirely.
That disconnect was affecting me so much that I finally started therapy to work through it. It’s been uncomfortable, but necessary. I’ve spent years seeing myself as a much bigger person, and even now at a healthy BMI, that mental image hasn’t shifted.
And I’ll be completely honest about something I haven’t really said out loud before:
I am thinking about surgical options for my face and neck. Not because I think it will magically fix the dysmorphia — I know it won’t. But the loose skin around those areas is a big trigger for me. Removing it isn’t about vanity; it’s about removing something that constantly pulls me back into an old identity I’m trying so hard to move on from.
Learning How to Drink Again – Literally
This part surprised me the most: alcohol feels different now. Completely different.
The first few times I drank after surgery, I realised quickly that the “new normal” is unpredictable. I can feel fine one minute and awful the next. I don’t metabolise alcohol the way I used to, and frankly, I’m still learning what my limits even are.
It hasn’t been a smooth journey. I’ve had a few missteps, a few “never doing that again” moments, and more than a few times where I realised I was using alcohol to fill emotional gaps that food used to fill. That’s something I’m still actively working on.
Food Fear, Energy Drinks & the Fear of Regain
One of the hardest parts of weight loss surgery is that the fear of weight regain never really disappears. Even when everything is going well — when the numbers look great, when people say “you’re wasting away” for the hundredth time — the fear stays.
I rely far too much on energy drinks at the moment. I know it. Therapy knows it. My dietitian would definitely know it. They’ve become a safety net of calories without triggering the same fear food does.
But long-term?
I know I can’t carry on that way.
The next step for me is learning how to trust food again — actual food. It’s strange how the thing that got us into this mess can become something we’re scared of once the weight comes off. I’m afraid of overeating. Afraid of slipping back. Afraid of waking up one day and realising I’ve undone everything.
So I’m taking that slowly too.
Trying to Understand Who I’m Becoming
Massive weight loss forces you to rebuild your identity from the ground up. Old coping mechanisms don’t work anymore. Old routines don’t make sense. Old versions of yourself don’t fit — literally or metaphorically.
Some days, I’m proud.
Some days, I feel lost.
Most days, I’m somewhere in between.
But I’m learning that rebuilding your identity isn’t something that happens overnight. It’s gradual. It’s uncomfortable. It’s deeply emotional. And it’s absolutely part of life after gastric sleeve surgery — even if no one warns you about it.
If you’re going through this too, you’re not broken. You’re not ungrateful. You’re not failing.
You’re adjusting. And it takes time to grow into a life you once only imagined.
I’m still figuring out who I am — but I know I’m moving in the right direction.
Disclaimer: This post is based solely on our personal experiences and is not medical advice. Always speak to your GP, bariatric team, or a qualified healthcare professional for guidance tailored to you.