The Weight of the Matter

This morning I did something I haven’t done in awhile: I weighed myself.

No big deal, right? Well, for me it sort of is because I, like many girls, have a tendency to get obsessive over the scale. I can go for months without weighing myself–I didn’t even own a scale for most of college–but once I do it can become a compulsion and I feel like I HAVE to check my weight every day.

And there’s really nothing wrong with that. Except I start to take it a step further and weigh myself every time I step in the bathroom, up to 3 or 4 or 5 times a day. I KNOW that your weight is most accurate first thing in the morning, and I KNOW that weight fluctuations throughout the day are a product of what you eat and drink, and half the time I’m wearing clothes anyway, but I still keep stepping on that damn scale!

When I lost about 15 pounds over December through February, I was compulsive about weighing myself. The number on the scale defined my mood for the day, and because it was consistently going down, it was generally good. At the time I was going through a lot of stress and drama with school, friends, family, health issues; and the scale was my one constant. It didn’t let me down. It was often the one thing getting me out of bed in the morning.

If that doesn’t sound healthy to you then you’re right, it’s not.

Then one day, things with my friends and health issues reached a breaking point, and that same day I reached my lowest weight 134.8. I should have been thrilled to be under 135, which had been my goal forever. But I didn’t feel anything at all. I realized that a number on the scale couldn’t make me happy, so that day I stopped weighing myself.

Three weeks later, I decided to check my weight for the first time since that morning, just out of curiosity. I weighed 138.0. I was happy with that number and decided that it was probably my “happy weight” that I could maintain easily and healthily without undue effort.

That was 5 weeks ago. I’ve congratulating myself for not weighing in since then, but I’ve more recently started to wonder if that’s actually a good thing. If I really had a healthy relationship with the scale, then I should be able to step on it occasionally without getting phased, right? I should be able to have a drink once in while without falling off the wagon, so to speak.

At the same time I worried: that if the number was higher than 138–especially if I’d gone up into the 140s–that I might freak out and start dieting. Or that if it was below 138, I’d want to see how much lower I could go. So I avoided the scale.

But this morning I actually didn’t even give it much thought, I just stepped on. And the scale gods were good to me: 138.4. That means I’ve successfully maintained my weight for the past two months (and I don’t count the .4 as weight gain–that could be from drinking an extra glass of water).

What’s more, this shows me that:

  • 138 probably IS my “happy weight” that I can maintain easily. I can eat cheesecake and an entire bread basket every once in awhile (oh heyyy Cheesecake Factory last Friday) and I’m not suddenly going to gain 5 pounds
  • My weight’s not really changing, so there’s actually no need to weigh myself daily. Going by how my clothes fit, as I’ve been doing, works just fine. Which is great–I don’t want a dark cloud hanging over my head all day because the scale fluctuated up a pound one morning.

That’s all for now–got to get to class! I’m actually taking pictures today, so I’ll come back with a food post tonight.

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2 Responses

  1. smartsmart girl! I’m glad you were able to defeat the scale so-to-speak! You’re happy and healthy and THAT is what matters most šŸ™‚

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