Your self-fulfilling prophesy

Let me tell you a tale.
It starts with a woman called Anna,
A story that’s part science, part soap opera, part Shakespearean tragedy—with a twist ending.

Anna had been working with me for a while and she was triumphant.
We’re talking 9 kilos gone. Vamoose. Evicted from her thighs, gently uninvited from her belly.
Her energy was up, her confidence was high and for the first time in forever, she felt like food wasn’t her frenemy.

Now, before she came to me, she’d had a rap sheet longer than a Woolies docket.
Diagnosed with insulin resistance.
Tried every diet under the sun—keto, fasting, possibly one that involved chanting at tofu.
Lost a bit, regained it, rinse, repeat, sob.

But now?
She was making actual progress.
Not white-knuckled, I-hate-everything weight loss.
But gentle, body-listening, “I can do this forever” kind of progress.
The sexy kind of sustainable.

And then…

Enter: The Gym Challenge.

dun dun DUUUN.

The Shred Heard 'Round the World

Anna signs up for a “shred month” at her gym, because—well—peer pressure and protein shakes are a potent combo.
Her PT gives her a diet that looks like it was written by someone who deeply fears potatoes.
Low-carb, high-protein, high-panic.

She trains harder. Eats less. Sacrifices joy.
After 30 days of effort that could've launched a moon mission… she loses exactly:
One centimetre off her waist.
(Which, by the way, might’ve just been a particularly enthusiastic exhale.)

And the scales?
Stayed.
Exactly.
The same.

Now, if this were a Hollywood film, this would be the part where she learns a valuable lesson and hugs herself in a soft-focus montage.
But no.

This is reality.
So instead, her brain went full disaster-porn.

“I’m stuck.”
“This is it. This is my final form.”
“I’ll never lose another gram. I’m destined to live in activewear forever—not because I’m active, but because nothing else fits.”
“If I stop now, I’ll balloon like a rogue hot air balloon at a school fete.”

The Forecast of Doom

Let’s get one thing straight:
Anna wasn’t reacting to facts.
She was reacting to a screenplay written by Anxiety and directed by Fear.

Because here’s the truth bomb:

THE FUTURE ISN’T REAL.
Not yet.
It exists only in your imagination—like unicorns or well-organised kitchen drawers.

But your brain?
It’s a fan of control. It wants to know.
So it guesses. Predicts. Forecasts.
Usually with the same reliability as a toddler doing long division.

Anna wasn’t trapped in her body.
She was trapped in her thoughts about her body.
And when you start living your life as if the worst-case scenario is inevitable…
Congratulations.
You’re now starring in your own self-fulfilling prophecy.

Prophecy Schmophecy

Here’s how it works:

Anna believes she’s stuck.
So she panics.
And when she panics, she stops trusting herself.
She stops listening to her body—the same body that helped her lose 9 kilos without suffering.
Instead, she starts outsourcing her brain to every Tom, Dick and Protein-Bro in her gym.

And what happens next?
She spirals.
She restricts.
She gets hungry, cranky, anxious.
And then… she rebels. (See previous chapter.)

And the prophecy? Fulfilled.
Not because it was fate.
But because it was fed. By her focus. Her fear. Her full-body investment in the idea that things would go wrong.

What If We’re All Just Making Sh*t Up?

Here’s the delicious irony:
The only thing that changed for Anna was her thinking.
Before the shred challenge, she believed in herself.
She trusted her process. She listened to her body. And it worked.

And then she gave her power away.
To a meal plan that didn’t suit her.
To a set of scales that have less emotional intelligence than a brick.
To a story in her head that said: “You’ll fail again. Just wait.”

But if we’re going to make up a future—because that’s all predicting is—
Why not make it a good one?

Why not choose thoughts that empower, instead of petrify?
Why not create a mental movie where she doesn’t spiral, binge and cry into a protein bar?
Where she stays calm, returns to what worked and keeps showing up with trust and consistency?

Because that future?
Is just as made-up as the other one.
But it’s a hell of a lot more helpful.

Your Thoughts Are the Script

Let’s get cosmic for a moment (don’t worry, I won’t make you hold crystals or chant).

You become the version of yourself that you believe in.
If you believe you’re stuck—you’ll act stuck.
If you believe it’s impossible—you’ll stop trying.
If you believe that failing once means you’ll always fail—you’ll become the author of that book and spoiler alert: it’s a tragic ending.

But if you decide to believe that:

• Your body can be trusted,

• What worked before can work again,

• A temporary plateau doesn’t mean permanent purgatory,

Then you’ll act from that place.

And guess what?

Action follows belief.
Results follow action.
And before you know it, the prophecy you’re fulfilling is one that serves you.

The Curtain Call

So here’s your encore question:
What kind of future do you want to build?

Do you want one where you're perpetually scared of your own biology?
Or one where you learn to listen, adapt and thrive?

You don’t need a perfect record.
You need a powerful mindset.
One that acknowledges fear but doesn’t live in it.

So next time your brain starts yelling “WE’RE STUCK! SOUND THE ALARMS!”
Just pause.
Take a breath.
And say:

“Thanks for the input, brain. But I’m the author of this story—and I’m not done writing the next chapter.”

And if you want help untangling the plot?
You know where to find me.

Photo credits: Photo by Drew Beamer on Unsplash