Tory Johnson - The Shift: How I Finally Lost Weight and Discovered a Happier Life

T his day is going to suck.

Its Tuesday, December 20, 2011, a cold, dark winter morning. Having given up on a good nights sleep, I make my way into the shower. Today, I am meeting with Barbara Fedida, senior vice president for talent and business at ABC News. She is the highest-ranking woman in the news division, and Im a contributor on Good Morning America. Its my first time having a one-on-one with Barbara, and I am fairly confident that there is only one item on the agenda: my weight. I think she plans to tell me that I am too fat to be on TV and that I must slim down. I am panicked because I dont just like my job, I love it and want to keep it for a long time.

With a towel perched on my wet head, I take in the quiet of the early morning. This is my safe haven: a three-bedroom apartment on the Upper West Side, a storied New York neighborhood that has been featured in movies ranging from Annie Hall to Spider-Man. Each room is filled with the people (and the dog) I love. My husband, Peter, is asleep in our bed. Friends say that hes a cross between George Clooney and Russell Crowe. I can see that, but he also has a wit and warmth that is all his own. He is my champion and best friend. If he were awake, hed be giving me the pep talk of the century. Hes always telling me how beautiful I am, and I am so grateful. But I know that no matter what he sees or says, this meeting is about my weight and Ive got to steel myself for what lies ahead.

My family has supported me in my ongoing battle of the bulge, but I am the only fighter on this field. Gaining a few pounds in his forties hasnt hurt Peters looks at all. Men are lucky that way. Down the hall, my fourteen-year-old twins, Jake and Emma, are sleeping. No weight problems there, and yet I worry that if I cant get my act together and overhaul my diet and my body, I will pass along my legacy of being overweight and the mental burden that comes with constantly struggling with your size.

I stare in my closet, frantically pulling pieces off the rack, wondering what outfit will give me the best illusion of thinness for this meeting. My closet has two bars. The eye-level shelf is for the things that fit no matter what size I am: shoes and bags in all the designer labels that I have worked so hard to afford. The other rack holds the black clothes that fitGap, Banana Republic, Talbots, Eileen Fisher. They dont make high-end designer stuff in my size.

I want a superhero costume, something bulletproof to protect me from the blow that I know is coming. Instead, what I grab is uninspiring at best: black wool pants and a black silk shirt, and I put them on with all the courage and hope that I can muster, which is not much right now. Im so tired of this, of never really being happy with the way I look, no matter where I shop or how much I spend on clothing. Im sick of the mind games I play, trying to convince myself that Im not really that fat, that plenty of people weigh a lot more than I do, that America is in the midst of an obesity epidemic, that I am in good company.

M y office is just fourteen blocks from my home, and when I get there I find the first of several emails from Barbaras assistant. With each one, the venue for our meeting becomes more depressing. First, its Le Pain Quotidien, the French bistro nearby that specializes in coffee and buttery croissants for breakfast. Then its Barbaras office at ABC News near Lincoln Center: she is so busy but really wants to meet today. Finally, its the ABC cafeteria. Oh, great. Im to be humiliated over a Styrofoam cup of coffee as GMA colleagues stroll by and guess exactly why Barbara has summoned me.

I have survived not one but three anchor teams at GMA: Charlie Gibson and Diane Sawyer, Diane and Robin Roberts, and now Robin and George Stephanopoulos. Not one of them has ever said a word to me about my weight. In fact, the bosses routinely praise my work, which enables me to think that a job well done means theyre willing to overlook the obvious. But Im not naive: I have been around television news long enough to know that thinness rules. My fit colleagues underscore that truth.