How it all tied together.

why i ditched the scale 2

(See Part 1 and Part 2 of this series)

One morning it finally dawned on me. “I step on here to decide how to treat myself today, inside and out.”

Basically I realized I stopped listening to my body. I stopped listening to my heart. I only heard what the scale had to say.

It wasn’t helping me take better care of myself. It wasn’t helping me to like myself. I thought it was helping me stay aware of my weight so that I wouldn’t go over again, but really it was keeping me from making any real progress weight wise or learning to love myself wise.

I think weighing regularly is good for some people. I honestly have a struggle with how I perceive myself and in my head a certain number said a certain thing about me. It wasn’t fair to my body. It didn’t do me any good.

I was using the scale as a way of gauging how I felt about myself and I was letting that decide how I took care of myself that day. How I would eat. What I would wear. Whether or not I would exercise.

Enough was enough. So I put the scale away and told myself I wouldn’t look at it for an entire month. And I did it. The first two weeks were difficult. Every time I ate and enjoyed myself it was difficult not to step on the scale hoping for a miracle or seeking some form of sick punishment.

But I did it. And then some.

I finally stepped on the scale for the first time since putting it away last week. I was feeling especially good for some reason…even though I hadn’t been eating well at all.

I didn’t lose any real weight, but my weight found its happy place again. I have a weight that my body has stuck steady to for ten years. Ten years of going on vacations and eating what I want. Ten years of pizza and movie nights. Ten years of Bunch A Crunch at the movies. Ten years of drinking lots more water than anything else. Ten years of cutting out fast food. Ten years of being aware of what I eat. And it works for me. I don’t look how I ideally want to, but I’ve been healthy and happy without limitations for ten years and when I stood on the scale and found that happy place for my body again (pretty effortlessly) I was so happy. (I had tipped the scale over the holidays.)

In a perfect world I would weigh ten pounds less and be more toned. In a perfect world, I would fit into a pair of pants a size smaller than I am right now.

Maybe someday I’ll be willing to put the effort forth to get there. But I find it’s much more important to like myself…as is. And for that to take place, I feel like that’s where my energy and effort needs to be right now. I don’t want to enter my thirties still hating my body and I’ve come a long way but I still have a long way to go.

I will continue stepping on the scale once a month and leave it at that. Maybe someday I won’t need it at all. In the meantime, I’m trying to learn to love my body without associating that love with a number. Although I never thought I’d be so happy as when I saw that number last week. Not because it was two pounds less than two months ago, but because it reminded me of how amazing my body is.

For some reason, it likes it here, so maybe I should learn to like it here, too.