I was 370 pounds the day I decided I didn’t want to suffer anymore.

There wasn’t one dramatic breaking point. It was the small, humiliating moments that stacked up over time. Losing my breath tying my shoes. Avoiding mirrors. Feeling embarrassed by how my clothes fit. Waking up sore because my own weight pressed into every inch of me. As an EMT, I’ve seen what obesity does to people. I’ve watched chronic illness steal futures. And deep down, I knew I was slowly walking toward that same outcome.

Three hundred thirty-seven days ago, I chose differently.

The beginning was brutal. The gym felt like foreign territory. Every muscle hurt. Every craving felt loud. I had to unlearn years of coping through food. I had to sit with discomfort instead of eating it away. But I wanted more. I wanted to live fully. I wanted to move without pain. I wanted to look in the mirror and recognize the man staring back at me.

So I went all in.

Early mornings. Measured meals. No excuses. No exemptions. I learned how to train hard. I became disciplined when motivation faded. I surrounded myself with people who believed in me — my family, my friends, my trainer Lance and the greatest group of OA members — and I leaned on them when it got heavy. Five months and twenty-five days in, I posted that I was 100 pounds down. It wasn’t just a number. It was proof that I could change my life.

Today, I am 214 pounds.

From 370 to 214.

One hundred and fifty-six pounds gone.

This has been the hardest thing I have ever done. Harder than any shift, any physical challenge, any mental battle. But I am proud of it. I fought for this body. I fought for this life.

After losing this much weight, my skin has not been able to recover. I’ve met with multiple surgeons, and they’ve unanimously told me that the permanent damage to my skin means it will not significantly tighten or “bounce back” over time. The only way to complete this transformation — physically and medically — is through skin removal surgery.

The plan spans the next year to allow proper healing. The estimated cost is between $28,000–$30,000 for three procedures:

• $14,000 for stomach and back

• $7,000 for chest

• $7,000 for arms

My goal of $40,000 includes those surgical fees as well as rent and utilities during recovery, because working — especially in EMS — will be incredibly difficult while healing.

This journey has never been about vanity. It has been about health. About longevity. About refusing to let my weight dictate my future. The loose skin I carry now is a reminder of how far I’ve come, but it also creates physical discomfort, hygiene challenges, and limitations that surgery can correct.

Three hundred thirty-seven days ago, I chose to fight for my life.

Now I’m asking for help to finish what I started.

This transformation has already changed me mentally, physically, and emotionally. I’m not going back. This is a lifestyle. This is my future. And I’m closer than I’ve ever been to fully stepping into the life I worked so hard to build.