It’s Just a Number

At least that is what I tell myself when I get on the scale. It is funny how a number can have such an impact on our lives. If that number was say 110 it wouldn’t have much an impact. Since it is bigger it controls my life at times. There was one point where I refused to weigh myself. I felt if I wasn’t weighing then I wouldn’t stress out so much. That didn’t work out as well as I had planned it. I ended up gaining more weight.

Of course wearing sweats a lot allows that number to go up without me noticing at times too. I don’t see the point of putting on jeans when I work from home and can wear leggings or sweats. I do dress up a little but not often. Honestly I am a homebody most of the time.

Addicted to Numbers

When I first began to lose weight I weighed myself every single day. Sometimes three or four times a day. After several months of it I realized I had become addicted to what the scale read. I needed to know that number. Even when I told myself I would weigh once a week I would find myself on the scale at different times of the day.

I mean they are just numbers but I couldn’t stop looking at them. Why had I gained a pound? Was I really losing that much? The best thing that ever happened, at the time, was the batteries died in the scale. I flat out refused to buy new ones in an effort to curb the scale use.

It took me more than a year to get back on a scale other than at the doctor’s office. Even then I refused to look and told them not to tell me what my weight was. I felt I needed to cleanse myself a little bit. After the year of not looking or knowing I bought new batteries for my scale and got on it again.

However, I don’t get on it every day and never more than once. In fact, I got on it just before writing this article and that is the first time this month. I’m thrilled to say I lost a pound and a half which is still more than a hundred pounds heavier than I want to be.

Defining Me

Allowing the scale to dictate and define who I am was a bad habit. One that I picked up without realizing I did. The numbers on that scale are not the sum of who I am. Now, I define myself by my actions and how I feel. I know I’m not the fittest or the healthiest person but I am trying. I am the best version of myself that I can be in this moment. Doesn’t mean I won’t get better but right now this is the best I can be. By giving the scale the heave-ho I have gave myself permission to be me.

To be the woman I am overweight, cellulite, fat rolls and all. I gave myself permission not worry about what other thought. To not demean myself because I don’t look like a model in a magazine. I probably would if I had someone to air brush my flaws daily. I saw something on Instagram once (and can’t find it now) it was a guy giving a piece of his man over the criticism his wife was receiving. She’s plus size and he looks really fit and healthy. People were being really mean, asking what he was doing with someone like her, etc.

I thought she was beautiful! Yes, she was overweight but I swear if y’all could have seen the smile on this woman’s face. She looked incredible. I remember at the time looking at her profile and seeing all of the things she did. It was more than clear she was an outdoors type of person. She was just bigger. I don’t actually know if she was overweight or not. I couldn’t believe they kept asking why he was with her. It was more than obvious he loved her. Her size didn’t matter to him and that in the end is all any of us ever want. Someone to love us for us. Weight is a number on a scale. We decide if we are happy or not. Not that number and not anyone else.

How often do you get on the scale? Let us know in the comments below.