Day 31: Why I Consider Today the First Day of My Weight Loss Journey

My journey with semaglutide, emotional hunger, and the struggle to change my lifestyle.

Thirty Days Into My Journey

Last Sunday, I took my fourth injection of semaglutide.

It has been almost a month since I started this weight loss journey. During these four weeks, I have noticed a significant change in my appetite. I feel less hungry, eat smaller portions, and get full much earlier than before.

I have also lost almost 2 kg, bringing my weight down from 85 kg to 83 kg.

On paper, that looks like progress.

But internally, I have been struggling.

The medication is helping me control my physical appetite, but I have not been able to make the lifestyle changes I originally planned.

I wanted to exercise regularly, but I kept finding myself caught between different choices.

Should I start walking outside every morning? Should I join a gym? Or should I begin doing Tabata workouts at home?

Every day, I considered these options. Every day, I postponed making a decision.

I was spending more time thinking about exercise than actually exercising.

And then there was another challenge, one I had underestimated: emotional hunger.

When My Stomach Is Full, but My Mind Wants Food

Yesterday was an interesting experience.

While working at the office, I went to the cafeteria for lunch. Usually, I prefer their steamed or roasted chicken. It is something I enjoy eating, and it fits reasonably well into my current eating habits.

Unfortunately, they had not prepared it that day.

The alternative was biryani.

The portion was actually much smaller than what I would normally eat at home. But I decided not to buy it.

I have noticed that sometimes after eating biryani at the office, I experience uncomfortable symptoms. My head feels heavy, and the whistling sound in my ears becomes more noticeable. I associate these experiences with an increase in my blood pressure.

So I avoided the biryani.

But instead of finding another meal, I decided to skip lunch entirely.

That morning, I had eaten jau ka daliya (barley porridge) for breakfast, along with a cup of tea. Sometimes I take tea with sugar, sometimes without it.

By the afternoon, something strange was happening.

My stomach seemed to be telling me that I needed food, but my mind was telling me that I was already full.

Perhaps this was the appetite-suppressing effect of semaglutide.

It was a confusing experience. I could recognize the physical need to eat, yet I had little desire to actually eat anything.

Eventually, I became busy with work and forgot about lunch altogether.

The Fish That Almost Became a Disaster

I reached home around 8:30 PM.

My family was out, so I decided to prepare dinner myself.

A day earlier, I had marinated some fish. I thought this would be a good opportunity to cook something healthy.

Unfortunately, my cooking skills did not cooperate.

I placed the fish in a frying pan, but half of it stuck to the surface and burned. I managed to rescue the remaining pieces and transferred them to the air fryer.

It was not exactly the dinner I had imagined.

Still, I ate what I could, and my stomach felt full.

I thought the day’s struggle with food was finally over.

I was wrong.

The Toughest Two Hours: 11:30 PM to 1:30 AM

Late at night, between 11:30 PM and 1:30 AM, I experienced the most difficult part of the day.

I wanted to eat something.

Not necessarily because my stomach was empty. In fact, I still felt physically full.

But my mind wanted food.

My tongue wanted a taste of something.

I kept thinking about eating, even though I could not identify exactly what I wanted.

Twice, I even tasted a little salt, hoping it might satisfy the craving. It did not.

The desire to eat remained.

That was when I started thinking seriously about the difference between physical hunger and emotional hunger.

Semaglutide seems to be helping with my physical appetite. But it has not eliminated the habits, cravings, and emotional associations I have developed around food over many years.

I also realize that skipping lunch and eating very little during the day may have contributed to those late-night cravings.

Perhaps I was experiencing emotional hunger. Perhaps my body genuinely needed more food. Perhaps it was a mixture of both.

Whatever the reason, it was difficult.

Eventually, I fell asleep without eating anything else.

But I did not feel that I had solved the problem.

I had simply made it through the night.

The Thought of Giving Up

Over the weekend, I had seriously considered stopping semaglutide.

Not because the medication was failing.

In fact, it seemed to be working. My appetite had decreased, and I had already lost some weight.

My disappointment was with myself.

I had started this journey with expectations of changing my lifestyle. I imagined regular exercise, better eating habits, and a more disciplined daily routine.

But after almost a month, I was still struggling to exercise.

I was still dealing with emotional hunger.

I was still making plans rather than consistently acting on them.

I began questioning whether I was really committed to changing my life.

I had undergone several medical tests, spent money on consultations and medication, and told people around me that I was starting a weight loss journey.

Would I now give up because changing my habits was proving difficult?

But then another thought occurred to me.

Why was I expecting myself to change years of habits in just 30 days?

The medication was one part of my journey. My behavior, routines, and relationship with food were another.

I realized that I needed to approach these changes more patiently. Whether I continue the medication is something I will discuss with my doctor, but I do not want disappointment with my exercise habits to make that decision for me.

This Morning, Something Changed

Today, I woke up around 6 AM.

Instead of thinking about whether I should walk outside or join a gym, I decided to try something simple.

Exercise at home.

I opened YouTube and searched for beginner-level workouts by Allblanc TV.

I found a 10-minute beginner workout.

Nothing complicated. Nothing ambitious.

Just ten minutes.

And I completed it.

For someone who has spent the last month thinking about exercise without actually starting, those ten minutes felt significant.

I did not burn hundreds of calories. I did not complete an intense training session. I did not suddenly become a fitness enthusiast.

But I finally did something I had been postponing.

And that made me feel different.

Day 31, or Day 1?

Technically, today is the 31st day of my weight loss journey.

I have taken four semaglutide injections. I have lost approximately 2 kg. I have experienced reduced appetite, difficult cravings, uncertainty, and disappointment.

But today, I am beginning to see this journey differently.

The first 30 days were not wasted.

They taught me something about my body, my habits, and my expectations.

I learned that medication can reduce appetite, but it cannot automatically create a healthy lifestyle.

I learned that physical hunger and the desire to eat are not always the same thing.

I learned that thinking about exercise is much easier than actually doing it.

And most importantly, I learned that I cannot build a new lifestyle through planning alone.

I have to start acting, even if the action is small.

Perhaps I do not need to join a gym immediately.

Perhaps I do not need to walk 10,000 steps every day.

Perhaps I do not need to push myself through an intense Tabata workout.

Perhaps ten minutes of exercise at home is enough to begin building a habit.

I want to focus less on creating the perfect plan and more on becoming consistent.

I also want to develop a healthier relationship with food, rather than turning every craving into a battle of willpower.

My goal is not simply to lose weight while taking medication.

My goal is to build habits that I can continue long after this phase of treatment.

And that will take time.

My Reflection

For the last 30 days, I was waiting for the right moment to change.

I was waiting to feel motivated.

I was waiting to decide which exercise was best.

I was waiting for my emotional hunger to disappear.

But perhaps change does not begin when everything becomes easy.

Perhaps change begins when we stop waiting and start doing something small.

Today, I completed just ten minutes of exercise.

It may not seem like much.

But for me, it represents the beginning of something I have been thinking about for a long time.

Today is Day 31 of my weight loss journey.

But in another sense, today is Day 1.

Not because the previous 30 days were a failure, but because today I finally began turning my intentions into action.

Life happen every day

Life happens every day.

The other day, I was sitting in my office. At the moment, there isn’t much work on my desk because our project is still in the analysis phase, and I am part of that process. With nothing urgent to do, my mind began to wander.

It drifted into the past.

I started asking myself many questions. Why did certain things happen to me? Why did people behave the way they did? Why was I treated that way?

Later, another thought appeared.

This time it was about my son.

What will happen to him? He isn’t studying seriously. He doesn’t seem focused on his education. As he is my only son, I couldn’t stop imagining what his future might look like.

Without realizing it, I spent the whole day traveling between the past and the future—replaying old memories and worrying about things that had not yet happened.

Then I remembered something that Zen teaches.

Zen is beautifully simple. It is not about complicated rituals or endless philosophical discussions. It is about direct experience. It reminds us to stay in the present moment, to live consciously, and to act with intention.

When we are fully present, we naturally make better decisions. We give our complete attention to what we are doing right now. If we continue acting consciously today, tomorrow will largely take care of itself. Worrying about the future rarely improves it, but acting wisely in the present often does.

The past is different.

It is only a collection of memories. We cannot return to it or live there again. We can only learn from it.

When painful memories keep returning, perhaps the best response is not to fight them but simply to observe them. Our mind may not be trying to torture us. It may simply be warning us:

“This happened once. Be careful that it doesn’t happen again.”

I have experienced this while programming.

Whenever I face a difficult technical problem, memories of previous failures sometimes come back. I remember the frustration, the stress, and the feeling that I had no solution.

At first, those memories make me anxious.

But then I remind myself that they are not predictions of failure—they are reminders of experience. They tell me where I struggled before, so I can approach the problem differently this time. Instead of becoming trapped by those memories, I use them as lessons.

I once came across a quote often attributed to the Buddha:

Someone asked, “We all have to die one day.”

The Buddha replied, “No. We die only once. We live every day.”

Whether or not these were the Buddha’s exact words, the message is powerful.

We often become obsessed with the fact that one day we will die. Since death is inevitable, we sometimes forget that life is happening right now.

The truth is that we die only once.

But we are given the opportunity to live every single day.

That realization changes everything.

Instead of asking, “How much time do I have left?” perhaps the better question is, “How fully did I live today?”

If I live each day with awareness, do meaningful work, love the people around me, learn continuously, and become a better person than I was yesterday, then I have already lived a complete life.

When that day finally comes, I hope I will have no regrets.

Because if I have truly lived every day, I will not need another life to feel complete.

Why implementation of knowledge is important

Have you ever noticed that raw iron has almost no value?

It’s just a lump of metal pulled from the earth.

But when a blacksmith heats it, removes the impurities, shapes it, and forges it into a sword, a tool, or a machine part—its value increases dramatically.

Why?

Because value is created through knowledge, effort, and application.

The same principle applies to wisdom.

Today, we have access to thousands of books, podcasts, videos, and philosophies. But simply knowing something doesn’t change your life.

Knowledge alone has no value. Applied knowledge does.

Taoism teaches us to flow with life instead of constantly fighting reality.

Zen teaches us to be fully present in this moment, not trapped in regrets about the past or anxiety about the future.

Stoicism teaches us to focus on what we can control and let go of what we cannot.

These ideas sound powerful—and they are.

But they remain just words until you practice them.

Reading about patience doesn’t make you patient.

Learning about discipline doesn’t make you disciplined.

Understanding wisdom is not the same as living it.

Just as raw iron becomes valuable through fire and craftsmanship, wisdom becomes valuable only when it is forged into action.

Don’t just collect knowledge. Transform it into behavior. That’s where real value is created.

Falling forward

I recently heard a quote from Denzel Washington about “falling forward.” At first, I was confused by the idea. What does it mean to fall forward? And what would it mean to fall backward?

To me, falling backward happens when we experience failure or adversity but learn nothing from it. Instead of reflecting on what went wrong, we complain about the unfairness of life or blame other people for our circumstances. As a result, we repeat the same mistakes and remain stuck where we are.

Life is full of challenges, failures, disappointments, and setbacks. Yet many people spend more energy searching for someone to blame than searching for a lesson to learn. When we refuse to learn from failure, failure becomes wasted experience.

More than 2,000 years ago, Marcus Aurelius wrote that what stands in the way can become part of the way. Obstacles can become teachers. Difficulties can become opportunities. But this only happens when we accept responsibility for our lives, acknowledge our mistakes, and honestly examine what went wrong.

Learning from failure does not always mean trying the same thing over and over again. Sometimes quitting is the wiser choice. It makes little sense to keep digging a well in dry land where there is no water. Persistence is valuable, but blind persistence is not. We should not continue down a path simply because it is traditional or familiar.

Falling forward is a mindset. It means that every failure, rejection, or setback contains a lesson that can help us move forward. One failed attempt does not mean the world is over. If one path does not work, we can try another. If necessary, we can change direction, improve our approach, learn from our mistakes, and begin again with greater wisdom.

In this way, even when we fall, we are still moving forward.

Secret to unstuck any problem in life

There are moments in life when I feel completely stuck—unable to solve the problem right in front of me. No matter how much I think about it, nothing moves. I feel tired, even a sense of quiet frustration, almost like betrayal by my own mind.

In those moments, I remember a simple but powerful idea: rewrite the problem.

At first, it feels strange. How can writing the same problem again help? But when I actually do it—when I slow down and define the problem in my own words—something begins to shift.

My mind starts gathering scattered thoughts. Pieces that were disconnected begin to come together. I start seeing patterns, relationships… the dots begin to connect.

Once the problem becomes clear, I take the next step: I write down step one.

That first step is always the hardest. But after that, something interesting happens—the rest of the steps start to unfold more easily.

It’s as if clarity creates momentum. And momentum makes the path forward visible.

Perfection is enemy of good

In life, we find many people who are waiting for the perfect moment to change their lives.

They wait for the perfect job so they can succeed.
They wait for the perfect life partner.

But in the end, they never move—they stay stuck in life.

In software development, there is a term:
“Ship it — imperfect is better.”

Let’s see how we can apply this idea to our personal lives.


Hello friends,
My name is Ali Raza Zaidi. I am an ERP consultant, software developer, and part-time content creator.


When I was relatively new in my career, I worked at a place where Oracle was implemented. One of their ERP implementations had failed. Then a new IT manager was recruited, and he started working on fixing things.

He decided to develop a custom warehouse management solution for the organization. With three months of effort, we were able to build a solution.

At that time, the solution was working, but it had many bugs.


The IT manager decided to launch it anyway.

We were afraid—what would happen?
There were issues in the system. We thought end users might lose confidence in the software.

But we launched the product, and users started using it.

We found many issues, but with another three months of effort, we fixed them one by one. Slowly, things improved, and the system became stable.

They called it a mature system.


💡 What did I learn from that lesson?

Sometimes, perfection makes us stuck.
We become unable to deliver.

When we keep seeking perfection, we end up delivering nothing.


I saw a similar example in real life.

One of my college fellows came from a wealthy family. When we graduated, I couldn’t find a job in a big company, so I started with a very low salary.

Meanwhile, my friend kept complaining:
“The salary is too low. I’ve spent a lot of money on my education.”

He never started his software career.

Eventually, he moved to the US and ended up working as a cab driver. I believe he is still complaining about life.


⚡ The reality is:

In life, we need momentum, not perfection.

We don’t need the perfect time to go to the gym.
We can start small—just go and begin.

If you miss a day, go the next day.
Keep trying.


I have another friend who is a very good writer.

One day, he shared his diary with me. His writing was excellent.

But he never started a blog or a YouTube channel.

Why?

Because he was waiting to write something perfect.


🧠 What I believe:

A not-perfect post that is published
has more value than a perfect one that is never posted.


As a software architect, I have faced many situations where things didn’t go as planned. There is always negative feedback.

But in reality, customers don’t want a perfect feature after three months.
They want something useful that works today.


That’s why in software we use Agile:

  • Decide a small portion
  • Build it
  • Test it
  • Deliver it

Delivery is important. Until we deliver, we cannot get feedback.

And feedback is the source of improvement.


There is also a possibility that the paragraph you delete
might have resonated with a reader.


There is an 80/20 rule which says:

80% of progress comes from 20% of effort.

Perfection usually takes much more time than “good enough.”


🚀 What does “Ship it” mean?

It does not mean you ship garbage.

It means:

  • Functional over flawless
  • Useful over perfect

We need a mindset shift for that.


Instead of waiting for the right time,
set a clear deadline.

Instead of focusing on being flawless,
focus on being useful.

Instead of worrying about critics,
focus on early adopters.

Instead of polishing the edges,
make sure the core works.


🔥 The bottom line:

Done is better than perfect.
Momentum is far better.
Momentum is a better teacher than stagnation.

When you deliver something imperfect,
you are not failing—you are starting.


So:

  • Write the draft
  • Write the code
  • Do basic testing
  • Send the proposal

The world does not need perfection.
It needs your contribution.


From Gautama Buddha:

“An idea that is developed and put into action is more important than an idea that exists only as an idea.”


Overthinking is a trap.

Presence + Action = Progress


There is a Japanese concept called Wabi-Sabi, which means finding beauty in imperfection.

It teaches us:

  • Nothing is perfect
  • Nothing lasts forever
  • Nothing is ever complete

The thing you are spending too much time perfecting
may not be as important as you think.

And after delivering it, you might discover something even better.


🌿 Final Thought

Flaws are not mistakes — they are character.


Why we share our problems with others ?

Troubles are like babies, they grow larger by nursing -Lady Holland
We often share our problems because we seek relief. We want someone to listen so that our stress feels lighter. Sometimes, we believe that by sharing, our problems will be solved—or at least become easier to accept. Speaking about them gives us a temporary sense of comfort.

But the reality is different.

Everyone carries their own burdens. Most people are not truly interested in hearing about others’ problems. People usually meet to relax, to laugh, and to momentarily escape their own worries. When we repeatedly share our troubles, others may feel irritated, emotionally drained, or begin to avoid us altogether.

This is why silence is often wiser than sharing.

I once read that worries increase when we share them with others, but decrease when we sit with them in silence. Silence forces us to face the problem directly, rather than spreading it outward.

Many times, those who seem eager to listen are not genuinely concerned. Some people are drawn to stories of struggle because it reassures them that someone else is stuck, failing, or suffering. They may enjoy the information, not your healing. They care less about what happens to you and more about the fact that you have problems. Sharing with such people only deepens our vulnerability.

This is why Gautama Buddha taught:

“Speak only if it improves upon the silence.”

If speaking does not bring clarity, peace, or wisdom, then silence is the better choice.

Stoic philosophy echoes the same truth: focus only on what is within your control. If a problem is beyond your control, worrying about it—or discussing it endlessly—serves no purpose. Accept it, and redirect your energy toward what you can change.

Similarly, some Sufi saints advise:

Share your problems only with Allah, in prayer. Do not share them with people—because no one can truly solve them for you.

Prayer, reflection, and inner dialogue strengthen the soul. Complaints weaken it.

In the end, silence builds resilience. Awareness brings acceptance. And responsibility for our problems always begins—and ends—within us.

One timeless truth of life is the present moment.

If there is one mantra for success, it is this: do your best in the task at hand.
The only way forward is to fully commit to what you are doing right now.

A better future is built by the efforts you put into the present moment.
Meditation simply means focusing on the now—being fully engaged with what you are doing.

Even the idea of “practice makes perfect” is nothing more than repeating the same task with full attention, without letting negative or distracting thoughts pull you away—thoughts like “I should be doing something else,” “This is boring,” or “This isn’t important.”

Remember, life is short. Imagine that tomorrow might be your last day.
Then give your 100% to your work, spend time with your family and friends, and honor what truly matters to you.

Life’s challenges and our response to it.

Life is full of challenges — and interestingly, these very challenges are what make life meaningful. If difficulties did not exist, life would lose much of its depth, purpose, and excitement. Our focus and interest grow when we push our limits to achieve something.

But many challenges appear without any clear reason. They arise unexpectedly. Yet even these teach us a valuable lesson: we must stay prepared. Otherwise, life will keep presenting the same lesson until we learn it.

At other times, challenges do have a clear cause. After facing them, it becomes our responsibility to identify the root reason and fix it. Once the cause is corrected, the problem is far less likely to return.

Of course, sometimes bad luck strikes. Unfortunate events happen despite our sincere efforts. We do everything we can, yet the outcome is not what we hoped for. In such moments, it feels like we have lost the battle.

This is where the Stoic idea of Amor Fati comes in — “love your fate.” It means embracing whatever happens with an open heart, trusting that everything ultimately comes from Allah, from a higher wisdom (Prajñāna Brahman), from a bigger picture beyond our control. Results are not always in our hands; only our actions are.

We feel happy when life aligns with our wishes, and unhappy when it doesn’t. But what truly matters is that we give our full effort with sincerity. When we do that, there is no regret.

Another Stoic principle reminds us to focus only on what is within our control. Whatever the situation may be, we always have a choice in how we respond, how we interpret it, and what we make of it.