I used to weigh myself everyday. Sometimes a couple times a day. I would get upset with the number each day and especially frustrated when the number would be higher than the previous weigh-in. The scale dictated my self-esteem.
I wasn’t always so obsessive about my weight…in fact, the most I ever weighed was in high school and when I started college and I definitely didn’t lack any confidence, despite my larger jeans size.
I unintentionally lost a lot of weight my first year of college and perhaps weighed a little too little by the end of my freshman year. The weight just came off; I was in love, happy with my major, found a new love for running and was just enjoying my relatively care-free life.
But after I graduated from college, got a desk job, blah blah blah the typical story, I started to put back on a little weight. Then a little more. Then a little more. I started to obsess over it and started weighing myself a lot.
Last year, I started meeting with a nutritionist for various reasons and she banned the scale. But…I still secretly weighed myself once in a while (sorry Barb!). However, I’ve done some good work with the good ol’ self esteem in the last year and have started focusing on being healthy instead of being skinny.
I’ve started eating better, I’ve developed a more balanced approach to exercise (no more two-a-days, adding more strength training, cutting back on cardio), and started doing more things for me: small things like taking time to read a book; doing yoga because I love it, not because it’s going to burn the most calories; or just sitting and looking out the window (seriously, it’s nice to just let your mind wander sometimes).
And guess what? My pants are looser. My clothes fit better. Barb was right – once I stopped focusing on losing weight, the weight would come off if it needed to. I have cut back on weighing myself…maybe just once every few weeks. But the real turning point came for me yesterday morning.
I thought, I should weigh myself. No good reason, just wanted to. And then I stopped and thought about what would happen. I’d step on the scale, a number would pop up and I’d either be upset (likely, considering my very indulgent eating in the past week…yum…) or I’d be in a good mood.
And I realized how stupid it was to let a number set my mood for the day. So instead, I left the scale untouched, got dressed, smiled as I slipped on my pants that used to be tight and felt how strong my core has become lately and thought about all the push-ups I’ve done this year.
I probably won’t throw out the scale anytime soon, but I also know that I won’t be getting on it anytime soon. No, I’m not at my lightest weight I’ve ever been. Not even close. I’m not at my heaviest either. But I’m definitely the healthiest I’ve ever been. I feel strong. I feel healthy. I feel balanced. And dammit, I feel sexy. And a number on the scale can’t beat sexy.
Do you own a scale? Do you use it? Do you use it too often?