No More Scales

On April 4th, I made the colossal mistake of getting on a scale.

I thought I was doing a wise thing, since I had been logging my food again. I learned before that a smaller body needs less energy to fuel it. So if I was losing weight – as I believe I was – I should probably check in and enter the new lower weight, so I could recalculate my daily calorie goal.

The only thing was, when I entered my starting weight back in February, I used a number from last October. It was the last time I’d been on a scale, when I was at the doctor’s office for my annual physical. Well, between October and February, there were the holidays. Guess what? I must have put on some weight, because even though I felt as though I’d lost weight between February and April, the number on the scale was had gone up quite a bit.

UGH!!!!!

I wish I could say it didn’t matter. In my mind, I know that there is a much bigger picture, and that the number on that scale is only one small part of that picture. But emotionally, I feel something so completely different.

Seeing that number on the scale sent me into a tailspin. It sure as heck did not encourage me. I stopped logging. I started eating whatever. I stopped caring.

And now, two weeks later, I still can’t seem to get back on track. Heck, I don’t even know exactly what track I want to get on! I try to start logging again, but it isn’t working.

And so I have decided never to get on a scale again. I mean it. Never. Ever. The next time I go to the doctor and they ask me to get on the scale, I intend to politely decline. And if they insist, I will turn around and get on backward, so that I don’t see the number. It seems like the most compassionate thing I could do for myself.

Every time I get on a scale, it messes with me. So why would I want to keep putting myself through that? No, thank you.

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Reality Check

I recently changed doctors. Which means I had to have a physical. Which means that today, I had to get on a scale. I did not like the numbers looking back at me. About 6 pounds more than I thought it would be. I knew I had put back on a pound or two, but I had not expected to see it that high. (And yet as I write this, I have to say, 6 pounds does not seem like all that much.)

Still, it was something of a shock. And a big disappointment. When I started writing this blog, I thought I was in the maintenance phase of weight loss and transformation. Nope. Not even close. In total, I think I’ve gained back at least 10 pounds, after having lost 20. UGH. That does not feel good.

So when I saw my new doctor (whom I really like) and in her litany of questions, she came to the one: how’s your diet? “Well, some good, some not so good,” I answered. And then I started to cry. Not unlike me. I’ve cried in front of countless people – doctors, professors, family. Heck, I cry at Hallmark ads! Oftentimes I’m embarrassed and have even been disgusted with myself for letting such intense emotions show. But my doctor was very supportive. She said this was a “safe place”. And happily, I believed her. She is a doctor with whom I feel I can be open and honest.

Later on, I thought about that scenario some more. Wasn’t I just writing about self-approval and self-acceptance? I’m still not sure where I stand on those things with regards to food choices. But here is a place where I can really go easy on myself. So what if I cry in front of others? So what if I’m an emotional person? It’s a big part of me. I feel things deeply. And this journey of approval and acceptance of myself is life-long. It’s a really big deal. So of course things hit me hard. And I react. There is no shame in that.

One thing the doctor recommended is that I get a scale. I haven’t had one in about 10 years – since the last time I tried to lose weight. She said it would be a good idea to have one, so that I can check in and keep myself honest. Well, I considered it. NOPE. No way. Absolutely not. It is such a bad idea for me!! I get so obsessive about weighing myself. I can’t keep it to just once a week. I start getting on the scale daily – sometimes even two times a day. And I am SOOOOOO hard on myself when I see the numbers fluctuating – which of course they are bound to do! So maybe I’ll get on a scale every few months at my parents’ house. Not so much to see how I’m doing (my clothes and my body pretty much tell me that). But so that I can put accurate information into My Fitness Pal.