Why I take the opinion of a glorified piece of plastic and metal is beyond me. Much too often I bow down to it (literally, because it lives under the sink), and wait for it to tell me the value of my life. Am I fat today or thin, high or low, happy or sad, good or bad, successful or a failure? I put so much worth in the numbers that look back at me that sometimes it alters my state of mind. I’ve been doing this weight loss (and gain) thing for a long time; I know that the numbers on the scale aren’t a true representation of who I am or what I’m doing. There are so many factors that go into our weight, especially when living active and healthy lifestyles where you drink lots of water, work out hard, sweat hard, and eat foods that actually have a purpose for being in our bodies. Not to mention that I am a woman and can’t get my brain to make a decision about the color of my bathroom, yet I expect my body weight to be spot on every second of the day. I know this, yet I can’t seem to stop my scale addiction.
Like a drug it lies to me and gives me false promises or false ridicule. If I step on and I’m 5lb lighter I am ecstatic, and naturally I begin to think that I must be doing something right, until I hit a plateau, or get on the next day and have my life shattered because I’m back up two or three pounds. Or there are those days that I am feeling my best, eating right, working out, feeling good, and then the devil calls me to the bathroom sink and tells me that my day will get better if I weigh myself (because it must be as great as I feel). So, with a smile on my face and a bounce in my step I dance over to the devil’s layer and bow down to it once again, looking for love and acceptance from something that smells like my husband’s feet, then I place myself perfectly centered on this little white rectangle and my smile fades, my sunny disposition becomes ice, and my world cracks from the cold. From that point on I begin to rethink my whole existence, my workouts, my food, my everything! Why does it matter how much I weigh, why does it matter how heavy or light I am, who came up with this idea that health and happiness is ultimately determined by a three digit number. My health is determined by that number yes, but not by that number alone. My health is first and foremost determined by the light in my eyes and the joy in my days. My health is determined by the energy and excitement in my actions. My health is determined by the good food I chose to eat, not because I have to but because I want to.
I’m not going to let my scale mess up my good thing. I’m healthy, I’m happy, and I don’t care how much I weigh because unless I plan on beginning a career as bowling ball, nobody else cares either. The fact is, as long as I’m doing my exercise and eating the right food in the right portions I know I’m going to look good and feel better and that is what maters. People don’t ask you to stand on them so they can evaluate the worth of your efforts, so why do we feel the need to stand on an inanimate object and ask it to do the same. When my husband tells me I look good, he doesn’t pick me up first to make sure what he is seeing is real. My clothing doesn’t have a meeting with my scale to discus my success and then shrink or expand based upon my weight. As a matter of fact, my scale can’t tell me half the information about myself that I get from other sources.
I think it’s about time I take my scale off the pedestal that I should be putting myself on. I need to spend more time caring about what I think and feel, instead of what my scale thinks. Like the devil it lies to me and causes me to make bad decisions. I don’t give my doormat, my ottoman, or anything else I put my feet on as much credit, and if I want to stand on something for a life changing response, I will go out and get a doormat that tells me to have a good day every time I step on it, at least that would be healthy encouragement. Today, I throw out my scale and I put my hope and faith where it needs to be! From now on, when I want to know how well I’m doing I will put on a pair of old pants to remind myself how far I’ve come, or I will run around the block and remember when I couldn’t. When I want to feel good about myself I will put an apple w/ 2 tbsp of almond butter in my hand and nothing under my feet. Today’s task, toss the scale and never look toward my feet for affirmation again.
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