I’m declaring this National Hug Your Scale Month. Who’s in with me? If there isn’t already such a thing, then there should be. So many people are starting – or restarting – their weight loss program this month after a month or six weeks of food binging from Thanksgiving to New Year’s. And for many of us – me included – we have, or have had, a love/hate relationship with the scale.
There are the camps of “I won’t be a slave to the scale” and those that say, “There are other indicators of weight loss rather than the scale”. There are those that say all you need to do is lift weights, eat only vegetables, cut out all sugars, fats, and caffeine, or any number of variations on self-limitation and restrictions.
I say that many of these are valid when done in moderation but not exclusivity and will lead to positive results. However, the one main tool of my weight loss and ultimate maintenance of a healthy body and lifestyle – the one that never lies to me and the one that I can’t manipulate – is the scale.
I used to hate the scale. I doubt I’ve ever loved it in the past. In fact, I righteously refused to have a scale in my house citing many of the same reasons as above. Truth was, I really didn’t want to know what I weighed. And when my pants got tighter, it was obviously because my dryer was shrinking them. Didn’t matter that they never stretched out during the day. And I had a million lies I told myself as to why the size of my clothes kept increasing, why my health was getting worse.
One such example was when I saw pictures of my mother, who is now nearly 90, and me. I kept remarking how my mother kept looking smaller and smaller. She was shrinking! It never occurred to me that I was expanding and she was staying the same.
I still don’t have a scale in my house. Instead, I go once a week and weigh in. I may not literally hug my scale, but I embrace stepping on it. As for manipulating the scale – believe me, I try. I wear the lightest clothes possible, even in the dead of winter and freezing temperatures. I eat the same menu on weigh in day and weigh in at the same time every week. I try to be as consistent in everything as possible so when I do step on the scale, the only variable is my weight. Why? Because then I can get honest feedback about how I did the prior week, up or down. And I can get honest with myself.
How my clothes fit, how I feel health-wise, my body measurements, and my esteem are all equally good indicators of my progress but they aren’t as objective as the scale. I can stretch that tape measure to have it say what I want it to say. I can buy clothes that are sized for vanity. I can lie to myself in a number of ways that hides the fact that ultimately what goes in my mouth counts. Cause and effect.
Today, I no longer have hate or animosity toward the scale, nor does it wield any power over my emotions. It’s feedback. Pure and honest.
{ Comments on this entry are closed }
”Stop!” is one that drives me nuts. I usually hear it as an expression toward me – an interruption in mid-sentence – to stop talking about whatever it is I’m talking about. I don’t often hear it directed at me as a cautionary word, one to protect me from harm or to keep me safe, like “Stop! There’s a red light ahead.” It’s usually expressed because the person I’m talking to doesn’t like what I’m saying. Sometimes they’re right, sometimes they’re not. The feeling it invokes in me is one of being unjustly restrained, and hence, I balk.
