"I'm so grateful that I don't get on a scale because it's never going to be the right number."
This quote didn't stop me in my tracks because I found it particularly motivational or life-changing, but because it caused me to flashback to the day I reached my "goal" weight.
It was a great day. I gushed to friends and family and received their congratulatory comments with open arms. But y'know what? I have something to confess: When I stepped on that scale and saw 157, I was happy for less than 10 seconds and thought "I can and need to lose more!" And I did. And I couldn't maintain that weight. And I started to gain. And I kept weighing myself. And kept hating myself. Forget that I was no longer obese, a regular runner, a better cook, more energized and no longer at risk for diabetes. I didn't give a shit about any of that because all I could see were those numbers on the scale. And I, like countless others, allowed those numbers to dictate my happiness.
So Ms. Sedgwick is completely right, and almost painfully so. The numbers will never be right. Yes, I needed to see the numbers regularly to pull me down from 248, but did I need to see them every
I'm not anti-scale. I currently have two in my house. They serve a purpose and I'll never preach that they're completely useless. But I haven't stepped on one in over a month and don't plan on stepping on one until my annual physical next month. I'll look at the number. It'll be greater than last year's number. But that's something I've known for a while now and seeing it in a doctor's office doesn't change anything. It doesn't change the fact that I still run, am still not obese, still cooking with healthier, more wholesome foods and still not at risk for diabetes.
I will step on scales in the future. But certainly not every day or every week, which I totally used to do.
For me, weight-loss has been a double-edged sword. Obviously, the big pros were becoming healthy and trimming down significantly. But the cons include developing a handful of unhealthy, obsessive, counter-productive behaviors that have sunk their claws in deep and have made maintenance a bitch. I knew losing a significant amount of weight was going to be a long, tough journey, but I was in no way prepared for the new journey that followed. I wasn't prepared to discover how some of my previous "healthy habits" would start to work against me. I wasn't prepared to start binging. I wasn't prepared to re-learn how to eat. I wasn't prepared to let go of guilt. I wasn't prepared to hear mixed reactions from family members (something I'm still dealing with, as recent as two weeks ago). Lots of not-so-glamorous shit that I simply wasn't prepared for, at all.
But I digress. I guess what I'm trying to say is that while I'm still dealing with various post-weight loss issues, I think I can do without having the scale regularly thrown into that mix. I don't want the scale and I to be enemies, but I don't want to be BFFs either. Scale, you have been demoted to casual acquaintance. Hope that's cool.