The Body Mass Index (BMI) has called me “obese” since I was 10.

Before you go any further, think about what hearing that might do to a 10 year old. Not consciously maybe, but equally, being labelled in such a negative way does sink into your subconscious, and you know what it told me?

That I was fat. That I was useless. That I was not as good as other people.

Now, that might be my own internalising of the situation, and I recognise it doesn’t apply to everyone, but this was how it affected me. The negative language associated with BMI did absolutely nothing to get me to change. In fact, it had the opposite affect. I began consciously avoiding opportunities to look after myself, and my health.

I stopped going to the doctor because even if I went for a runny nose, every appointment came back to my weight. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve sat crying in a doctor’s office telling them I didn’t know how to be better, and that this conversation wasn’t helping. I can’t tell you how bad getting on scales was.

For 20 years I sat on “obese”, and every time I had to go to the doctor, I felt hopeless, powerless, fat and unworthy.

Now, before you go thinking I’m some sad woman who took solace in a bag of Salt and Vinegar Ripples and Bridget Jones’ Diary every night while obsessing over my BMI, I’m going to tell you that’s not true. The labels associated with BMI are not something we obsess over, and that’s half the problem. They are insidious. They are a negative label associated with the most intimate and important part of ourselves – our bodies. They are given to us by those who are supposed to care for us, and who we put ultimate trust in. They tell us (unless you are a ‘normal’ weight) that we are not good enough, and that we should change. And that’s echoed every time we try to take care of ourselves by visiting our health providers.

BMI was invented between 1830 and 1850. During Victorian times. The language and approach is very Victorian. You’re this or you’re that, and most likely, you are not good enough, and you should strive to be better.

Forgetting the fact that overall human health has moved forward in leaps and bounds since then (we grow taller, and live longer), our approach to mental health has also moved in leaps and bounds. We recognise that a person’s subconscious mind has an effect on our conscious lives. In education, we recognise that positive reinforcement is far more effective than negative reinforcement. So why don’t we do that in health? My issue is not with having an indicator of body fitness, but that BMI is so black-and-white, and not at all positive.

Last year, my workplace began offering Weight Watchers programs at work. For $30, I got access to the whole shebang for 13 weeks. The app, the meetings, the website. I was encouraged to go to meetings during work time in my workplace, and I sat next to people on the journey with me for most of the day. Initially, I signed up because I thought I’d be an idiot not to at least give this a try. I signed up again this year because I love it.

Everything about the program has been positive. Everything has been empowering. I had the opportunity to share my feelings and experiences with the people who I interacted with every day. We could support each other in the food court and the lunch room. We could walk around the block together and tell each other how amazing we were beginning to look as the weightloss became apparent.

During meetings, I literally ran to get on the scale. On the weeks where we had troubles, we learned about ‘non-scale victories’. Things like going down a belt notch, or being able to touch your toes. Those small moments of positive results, even when the numbers on the scale made us think badly of our progress. On days where I feel like a fat lump, I’ve found myself actively looking for these non-scale victories. My favourite is putting on the pair of jeans I was wearing at my first meeting. They fall straight down now. The non-scale victories keep me going.

No doctor ever told me about them. The only thing any doctor I have ever seen has been focused on was the number on the scale. The very thing that depresses women all around the world every day.

Outside of work, Facebook was the biggest encouragement. I posted when I hit milestones and I got massive reactions and encouragement. Everyone was cheering me on. They still are.

I’ve lost 15 kgs, and I feel brilliant. My confidence is up, my energy is up, and I haven’t looked back.

Everything I’ve ever been told about weight loss is true, except for one thing: it wasn’t hard. It didn’t take sacrifice. It didn’t even take exercise (though I now enjoy exercising). It just took learning about food, a plan, a support network of incredible people, and coming at it from a place that is positive. The net result is that this experience has entirely changed my outlook on life, and on food. I genuinely think that I’m now on the road to permanent weight loss.

Today, I checked my BMI using my new weight. I’ve lost 15 kg, and more than 10cm around the belly. I’m positive and happy. I’m on a roll. And my for the first time in my life, my BMI has changed. I’m now “overweight”.

Yes, I still have work to do, but the weight I am aiming for – the weight I have always dreamed of being – is still classed as “overweight”.

The language is still negative. Nothing about the BMI encourages me to be better, and this is why I think it shouldn’t be used by health professionals to class patients. On my personal journey I am supported by every person I know, and every tool I can get my hands on. But despite my success, I will still be unworthy in the eyes of the tool used by the medical profession to judge me.

Now, I’m no medical professional or scientist. I haven’t researched the studies done on the accuracy of BMI. I’m not debating the science (though, I am dubious from my anecdotal experience). I’m debating the language, and how we approach the subject of weight loss, particularly in the medical profession.

No doctor has ever given me what my friends, family, workmates and, yes, Weight Watchers have. They’ve never made weight loss something I want to do, or something I think I can achieve. It’s worth noting that Weight Watchers itself works on the BMI principle, and that the ultimate goal of the program is to get you to your ‘normal’ range. I know that, but it has never, ever come up in meetings.

It’s time to stop telling people they are not good enough, and need to eat fewer pies. It’s time to start supporting them, and changing the frame of the conversation to make weight loss journeys positive experiences. Make the tools and resources available to anyone, for anyone to be able to learn how to change.

It’s time to stop focusing on what is “right” and what is “wrong”, and start focusing on what makes you happy. Stop categorising people by a number, and start talking about positive steps to happiness. Most overweight people I know want to change, but they look at weight loss as hard. To them, it requires sacrifice and self-moderation and sweating. The truth is, when you come at it from the right direction, none of that matters. It’s not hard, because it makes you happy, and you fall in love with the process itself.

The BMI is a number. It judges us and it tells us we’re not normal. It does not encourage action. That’s the realm of people and our surroundings. It’s time for health professionals to change the conversation. Ask us if we’re happy, and for God’s sake, lay off if we tell you we are. Do not simply tell us we need to lose weight and then frighten us with a dozen weight-related illnesses. Encourage us to make better decisions. Not because of a number, but because it will make us happy. Which, in the end, is all anyone wants.