I need to start this one with some honesty: I’m having what my wife and I call a “fat day.” You know those days. The ones where you’re just uncomfortable in your own skin. Your clothes don’t fit right. You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror and think, ugh, I don’t like how I look today. It’s not just a body thing—it spills over into everything. Confidence, energy, motivation. All of it feels a little bit out of whack.

For me, this one hit after getting some bloodwork back. A while ago, I was diagnosed with depression, anxiety, and ADHD. That cocktail has been tricky to manage, because I also have high blood pressure. A lot of the medications that treat depression, anxiety, and ADHD don’t play well with high blood pressure. My psychiatrist recommended I try Ritalin or Adderall, but my primary care physician wanted my blood pressure under control first. So we adjusted meds, checked in regularly, and finally ran some blood tests.

And the numbers came back high. Really high. Cholesterol, lipids—the works.

I’ve been trying for months to eat better and exercise more. I’ve lost a little weight, but not nearly enough. And even though my rational brain can remind me that genetics play a role (my whole family is built big) and that some of the medication may be part of the issue, the emotional side of me just hears one thing: you’re failing. That spiral leads quickly into: you’re ugly, you’re gross, you’re out of control.

Welcome to my fat day.

Why “Fat Days” Hurt So Much

Fat days aren’t just about how our clothes fit. They tap into something deeper—our perfectionism.

I think about how many times I’ve treated weight loss like a New Year’s resolution. “This is it! No more sugar. Throw out all the snacks in the pantry. I’ll fast for five days and kickstart this thing right.” Spoiler alert: that plan never works.

I’ve done the same dance with restaurant apps. “I’ll use up all the points I’ve earned, then delete the app and never go back.” Or, “Well, I already blew it this week. Might as well finish strong with a pizza on Saturday, and I’ll start fresh Monday.”

Sound familiar?

This is perfectionism at work. It’s the voice that says unless we do it perfectly—every workout, every clean meal, every day without messing up—then we may as well quit. The all-or-nothing mindset is powerful. And destructive.

Because the truth is, waiting for perfect conditions before we take action almost always guarantees we’ll never take action at all.

The Clear Enough Approach

This is why the idea of being clear enough matters so much to me. Clear enough means I don’t need to know every step, every detail, or exactly what the finish line looks like. I just need to know the next right step.

So on this fat day, while I was walking around my neighborhood talking into my phone, I took a step. I deleted all the restaurant apps off my phone. That’s it. Simple, imperfect, but meaningful.

Will that one decision fix everything? No. But it will help me make better food choices in moments of weakness. And that’s the point.

Clear enough isn’t about perfection—it’s about direction. I want to be the kind of person who takes care of my body. That’s the direction. So I identify one concrete action that moves me toward that, and I take it.

Next step: setting redundant alarms to get up earlier in the morning so I can walk before work. Step after that: calling my mother-in-law to schedule picking up her unused elliptical.

I don’t need to map out a flawless, year-long diet plan. I just need to take the next clear step.

The Shame Trap

Now, let’s talk about shame. Because this is where a lot of us get stuck.

Growing up in a religious community, I saw how guilt and shame were often used as motivators. They’re powerful. But they’re also poisonous.

Shame says: You’re not worthy until you lose the weight.
Shame says: You’re only valuable once the bloodwork numbers improve.
Shame says: Until you hit the goal, you are less than.

That’s not how I want to live. That’s not how I want my kids to grow up. And it’s not how I want to model health or faith or growth.

So yes, I want to be healthier. I want more energy. I want to stick around for my kids and live a long, meaningful life. But I don’t want to fuel those choices with shame. I want to build them on stronger “yeses.” Yes to time with my family. Yes to energy and joy. Yes to being present and fully alive.

Because guilt and shame can push you for a while, but they won’t sustain you. Only love and purpose can do that.

Progress Over Perfection

Here’s another hard truth I have to remind myself of: progress is enough.

I exercised five days this week. That’s a win. I don’t need to beat myself up for not hitting seven.
I lost two or three pounds. That’s a win. I don’t need to punish myself because I didn’t lose ten.

But perfectionism whispers: You’re not there yet. You’re still a failure.

I’ve fallen into this trap for years. One bad meal and suddenly the whole week is “ruined,” so I give myself permission to eat whatever until Monday. That mindset is poison.

Progress over perfection means giving myself grace. It means acknowledging that one slip doesn’t erase five solid days. It means choosing to keep going anyway.

Is it hard to believe progress is enough? Absolutely. Especially when the gap between where I am (270 pounds) and where I’d like to be (around 212) feels enormous. But the Clear Enough mindset helps. I don’t have to know exactly how I’ll lose 58 pounds. I just need to know the next right step—and take it.

Talking Back to the Inner Critic

The way I spoke to myself on this fat day was brutal. Words I would never use on another person.

So I asked myself: what would I say to a close friend who was struggling like this?

I’d probably laugh and say, “Dude, you’re being a goobhead.” (That’s my strongest insult. I don’t swear, so when I say goobhead, you know I mean business.) Then I’d remind them:

• Your value isn’t tied to your lab numbers.
• I love you no matter what you look like.
• You’re stronger than you think you are.

That’s the compassion I want to extend to myself. Because I hear every negative thought before anyone else ever could. And there are enough people in the world who will tear me down—I don’t need to join that pile.

Practicing self-compassion isn’t about ignoring reality. It’s about choosing to speak truth over shame. It’s about reminding myself: I am doing better than I think, even if I’m not where I want to be yet.

Clear Enough for This Week

So, what’s one clear enough step I can take toward health this week?

I already deleted the apps. I already set the alarms. My next step is reaching out to my mother-in-law about the elliptical.

That’s it.

Not everything. Not perfection. Just one more step in the right direction.

Clear enough.

If you’re having a fat day—or a fat week, or a fat year—I see you. I get it. It’s brutal. But please remember: your worth is not measured by your weight. Your value isn’t up for debate.

You don’t have to wait for perfect conditions before you take action. You don’t have to fix everything overnight. You just need to know the next right step, and then take it.

Delete the apps. Lace up your shoes. Call the friend. Make the appointment. Whatever your next step is, make it small, doable, and clear enough.

Because in the end, transformation doesn’t happen in giant leaps. It happens in small, imperfect steps—taken again and again, with compassion and persistence.

And that’s enough.