Throughout my childhood, I was relentlessly active. Whether I was sparring in karate, climbing trees, or hiking through dense forests, I rarely carried an ounce of extra weight. I was lean, energetic, and seemingly invincible.
But life has a way of throwing curveballs. At 17, I moved away to Boston University to pursue my studies. Around the same time, my father, my hero, was diagnosed with terminal cancer—metastatic melanoma. Watching someone I loved so deeply succumb to such a merciless disease was devastating. It shook me to my core, leaving me anxious, helpless, and grieving alongside my family.
The combination of academic pressure as a pre-med student and the emotional toll of my father’s illness took a visible toll on me. The “freshman 15” quickly became the “freshman 50.” By the time my father passed away in 2007, I was heavier than I had ever been. I pursued my dream of becoming a physician, yet in the chaos of medical school, I sought solace in food. Chocolate chip cookies, potato chips, bread, pasta, donuts—they became my therapy, my emotional crutch. I wasn’t merely overeating; I was addicted. Sugars and processed carbs lit up my brain the same way antidepressants do, offering fleeting moments of relief from stress and sorrow.
By age 29, I had reached 309 pounds. I wasn’t just overweight—I was a morbidly obese doctor carrying diagnoses of hypertension, high cholesterol, fatty liver disease, sleep apnea, plantar fasciitis, depression, and diabetes. My health was in crisis, and something had to change.
The catalyst came from someone very close to me—my sister, Rachel. Rachel was a devoted mother of two, funny, warm, and endlessly selfless. In 2016, at just 31 years old, she was diagnosed with a highly aggressive ovarian cancer. She fought with everything she had: chemotherapy, surgery, radiation, and even two stem cell transplants, all to gain time with her young children. Watching her courage amidst such suffering sparked a realization in me. If Rachel didn’t survive, I had to be there for Sophia and Henry, her precious children. I had no choice but to fight for my own health.
For the first time, I recognized something I could control. While Rachel couldn’t control her diagnosis, I could control my body and my habits. My years in medical school had taught me the science of health and disease, but it took a personal crisis to make me internalize it: diabetes, high blood pressure, sleep apnea—these were not inevitabilities. They were choices. Rachel, even in her illness, had given me the gift of motivation.
On August 1st, 2016, I decided to change my life. I cleared my kitchen of every processed food, replacing chips, cookies, pasta, and bread with whole foods: fruits, vegetables, lean meats, eggs, yogurt, and nuts. I tracked every calorie using the MyFitnessPal app and, almost immediately, the weight began to fall away. For the first time, I felt in control of my health.
Rachel passed away on June 1st, 2017. That day, my best friend and my sister left this world, and her children lost their mother. My grief was overwhelming, and my weight loss plateaued at around 240 pounds, likely stalled by stress hormones. But the memory of my sister and my responsibility to Sophia and Henry pushed me forward.
I found a new tool: intermittent fasting. After reading The Obesity Code by Dr. Jason Fung, I embraced the 16:8 method—eating within an eight-hour window daily while consuming only water, black coffee, tea, or bone broth outside of it. Paired with my clean eating, I lost over 125 pounds in 18 months. I reversed my diabetes, high blood pressure, high cholesterol, sleep apnea—everything. Today, I’m healthier than ever, sharper, and more energetic than I could have imagined.
Exercise plays a small role in my routine now, but it was never the cornerstone of my transformation. My journey has been about choice: choosing to honor my sister, to prioritize my family, and to reclaim my life.
Becoming a physician has allowed me to help people prevent the diseases that devastated my family. My father’s melanoma could have been caught earlier. My experience with obesity and chronic illness allows me to empathize with my patients on a deeper level. Weight loss isn’t just about appearance; it’s about freedom, confidence, and control over your own life.
The only silver lining of Rachel’s illness is the way it inspired my family. Together with my brother-in-law Jacob, we’ve lost a combined 240 pounds, creating a healthier future for Sophia and Henry.
Motivation comes in many forms: a medical diagnosis, a financial setback, or the loss of a loved one. My turning point came from grief and love. When my father was diagnosed with cancer, I turned to food. When my sister was diagnosed, I turned to change.
It may sound drastic to throw out every processed food in your kitchen, but fortune favors the bold. Success is about choices: choose better. Choose wisely. Choose to love yourself. Find your reason, hold on to it, and never look back.
