If You Can’t Make It Better, Don’t Make It Worse

My daughter, Kay, had gained a tremendous amount of weight during middle and high school. Her self-esteem plummeted in ratio with every pound she gained. Each ice cream cone she ate attempted to douse the fire of self-hatred brewing inside.

Failing all her high school classes, she found what seemed to be a miracle high school aged boarding school program to help her lose the weight and gain her health back and proceeded to set about finding a way to get enrolled. She begged and pleaded and ultimately negotiated to go. We relented and cut the checks. With nearly 70 pounds to lose, we drove her to the school, a nearly six-hour drive from our home near Lake Tahoe, California.

She made progress fast in the regimented, disciplined program. Her days were filled with walking, history, dodgeball, nutrition, cooking, English, tennis, group counseling, more walking, softball, basketball, AP science, strength training, core training, individual counseling and more. She was allowed one 10-minute phone call home each week.

Our sweet daughter had transformed from a young confident girl to a surly, angry, obese teenager with low self-esteem and a highly inflammatory, confrontational nature. She was no fun to be with. Frankly, we relished the time at home while she was away at “fat school.” The house was quiet, no yelling, no tantrums, no teenage sulking. No tennies and backpacks strewn about, no piles of stuff on the stairway walked by over and over again. We missed her too. She was our 16-year-old baby no matter how surly she was.

We looked forward to our 10-minute calls, could barely cram in enough and always had more to say when it was over. We cried. She cried. We wrote letters. She wrote letters. By week four of the six month program, she was granted a chance to come home for a weekend, an “off-campus challenge,” just a 48-hour period to help her prepare for her eventual adjustment back into the real world. We braced for the whirlwind, the girl we used to live with. We drove down to get her and were thrilled with her weight loss progress. We saw something we didn’t expect.

Her personality had shifted. She was more agreeable, respectful. More kind and compassionate, subdued. She looked radiant, having lost 20 pounds that first month alone.
When we got home, we were thrilled to find her personality shift also carried through to her actions. She was neat and tidy, kept her things organized, cleaned up after herself in every way and offered to help us around the house. We were fairly stunned and asked her, “What’s with this new person? What happened to the girl who left here?”

She said, “Well, I’ve been in counseling nearly daily for a month, both in group sessions and many, many individual sessions. Yes we’re learning about food and nutrition. But, mom and dad, I’m also learning about me and I’m learning about you and us.

My counselor, Jim Hershey (what an ironic name for a weight loss counselor) has helped me see how I often create fire wherever I go, he’s also helped me see how I then fan the flames and sometimes pour gasoline on it too. He told me, ‘If you can’t make it better, don’t make it worse,’ and I really heard that.”

Wow. She came home a different person. That single piece of wisdom has stayed with her and with me ever since.

As leaders, we can add this 10-word sentence to our repertoire of tools we use daily to learn and grow and to help those around us do the same. By the way, that stunning young lady finished a year and a half of high school in 6 months, graduated with honors, is now married and has maintained a nearly 70 pound weight loss. She made it better!

About the Author

Misty Young, known as The Restaurant Lady, is board chair of Squeeze In Franchising, LLC.

She is also an appointed member of The John Maxwell Team’s President’s Advisory Council.

Misty has been married to Gary Young for almost 35 years and is a grandmother of three.

Contact Misty at : www.johnmaxwellgroup.com/mistyyoung