I hit goal in March after 19 months and have been holding around 168 since. The strange part wasn’t the scale slowing; it was the unexpected sadness when the finish line got close.
I’d spent so long being the person who was losing that I hadn’t practiced being the person who was done. Some old comforts left quietly — not food exactly, more like the familiar project of chasing a number.
I cried after a normal dinner because nothing felt special or forbidden, and that felt ridiculous and true at the same time. What helped was naming it: this is a transition, not a test. I started a short morning walk without tracking it, kept protein at breakfast, and let maintenance be boring.
For those of you further out, did the emotional part catch you off guard too, or was it just me?