So here’s the truth. Scales are a@)#&)es. Any way you cut it. They are mean ugly inventions that give information which, in truth, is only one corner of the picture. It is merely a few trees in the forest, but sometimes they are the only bright red trees we can see when we look at the big picture.
The following information may be shocking to find out – but scales and I have never been friends. Since the very first one I was placed on merely seconds from the womb, we have been enemies. 11 lbs. But it didn’t just say 11 lbs. It also said I was different, unhealthy, shocking, chubby, etc. Not like the other babies….
From that point, getting on the scale has ALWAYS been an unpleasant experience reserved for times when I was sick, miserable, or challenging myself to stare the devil down. Sometimes I was pleasantly surprised, other times I was heartbroken. But ALWAYS filled with anxiety.
When I started on this most recent weight loss journey – I tried really hard not to focus on that stupid piece of metal and how far it was sliding to the left. I did not have a scale in my home. I only weighed myself at the MD office, my mother’s house, or at the YMCA. No more than once a week. Sometimes, it would be 2-3 weeks between my weigh in(s). I made it 100+ lbs without a scale in my home. I felt good. I was starting to feel like I had turned a corner. The scale and I were letting bygones, be bygones and .. dare I say it…. becoming friends.
That is when I met her….a sleek silver metal beauty with big digital displays that tells me my weight to a decimal point. It even gives me the time and room temperature for shits and giggles!! She was a great deal and I bought her. I thought … it’s time. It’s time to let you back into the house to see if we can make this work. We deserve to try to work on our relationship in more healthy situation – one were I can can pee and be naked and weigh myself seconds later… because yes… those ounces make a difference. I told you it weighs me to a tenth of a pound, didn’t I?!?!?!
At first – it was beautiful. I “lost” a pound just from the night before when I took her out of her package to the next morning. And it was a weight I had not been to since Jr. High, so I was really happy to look at that number. So happy, that several hours later, I wanted to see it again. So I go back on the scale – same number – but some additional numbers to the right of the decimal point – no biggie – still the same number and those numbers after the decimal point didn’t matter, right? RIGHT?
Then that bi(&^ had the audacity to add 2 pounds the next day!! ADD?!?!?! Are you freaking kidding me!?!?! Don’t you know WHO – I – AM?!?! I am the woman who has lost basically another whole human being in less than a year and you are gonna add 2 pounds to me?!?!?! You are broken. That is the only explanation. You are going back you worthless piece of (&(&%^….
The next day I apologized. We tried again. 2 lbs were gone again. The next day 4 ounces down. The next day a pound up. A week steadfast at the same exact number to the decimal point, then the next day 3 lbs gone. This has gone on for a couple of months now.
Ugh!!!! SO FRUSTRATING!! WHY?!WHY?!WHY?!
Well… I will tell you why. Because that damn number changes every minute. Every glass of water, every workout, every meal. Every day, every "time of the month”, every almost “time of the month”. It changes. It will continue to change. It will go up and yet your clothes will be size too small… and ya wanna know why? Because your legs and ass muscles look amazing from kick boxing this week! It just doesn’t matter what the hell that b(*(&^% says, because if you are focused and on task, you will feel amazing!! You will feel healthy and strong and look great.
I have come to realize – we will never be friends. Never. I will need her. She needs to keep me in check, but I cannot have her out in the house. She is too dangerous for my new mind. I have come to the realization that I have played this up and down game for a year, but just didn’t know it because I wasn’t getting on the scale 3-6 times a day (yes… I am admitting it…I have gotten on that damn thing THAT many times in one day!)
So – more baby steps in this journey. Like the old saying goes, one step back, two steps forward. This is a marathon, not a sprint… and all those other crappy inspirational phrases written in pretty fonts on pinterest.
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