What I learned from my break from the scale

You may remember that I have a rocky relationship with my scale.  Over the years, I would weigh in 2-3 times per day, and it would totally affect how I felt about myself.

For Lent this year, I decided to try something radical and difficult.  I gave up the scale.  I promised that I would not weigh myself until Easter morning, at the earliest.  It was a huge challenge for me in the early days, as weighing myself was a habit that was hard to break.  I instinctually thought of the scale at least three times a day...first thing in the morning, when I got home from work, and before bed.  I struggled with worry and stress about gaining weight, and many times over the course of those 46 days felt the strong urge to weigh myself.

But I resisted.  It was hard, but I did it.

How did that break from the scale change me?

Over time, I began to love myself and my body more.  Without that number attached to my self-worth multiple times a day, using only the fit of my clothes and what I saw in the mirror as my guide, I slowly began to see myself differently.  It was during this time that I actually had race pictures that I didn't automatically hate because of feeling fat.  I felt more confident and happy in my own skin.  Yes, there were many moments of worry and fear that I was gaining weight, but without the scale to confirm or deny them, I was able to focus on living my life in the body I have right now.

As Easter drew closer, I considered how and when I would end my break from the scale.  Should I weigh in first thing Easter morning?  As I grew more comfortable not seeing that number, I began to think I might never step back on the scale.  But realistically, I felt that denial is never good.  I think it is important to know those numbers that affect our health so much...weight...blood pressure...cholesterol...etc.  Not knowing them doesn't make them any less real.

I also thought about how I would feel about the number I saw.  If the number was lower than in was in early March, of course I would be happiest.  But I also knew that the number might be higher.  I didn't think it would be too much higher, as my clothes did not feel noticeably tighter, but if the number was higher, would I start hating my body again?  Would I feel like a failure?  Would all of that progress be lost?

Even though I had been in Louisville with hubby running the Derby Half on Friday and Saturday (and enjoyed some wonderful meals!), and ate plenty of treats on Easter Sunday, I decided to step back on the scale on Monday morning.  I knew the number would be higher.  Due to the weekend of feasting, my rings were tighter, and I could tell I would definitely not weigh less than I had on Fat Tuesday.

Holding my breath, I stepped on the scale Monday morning and I was 4.6 pounds heavier than on March 4.  Not great, but given the weekend I had just enjoyed, not terrible.  I struggled to not hate my body and run screaming to find an extreme diet I could try to lose those extra pounds.

In the days that followed, I received the email with my race photos from the Derby Half.  Even knowing that I weighed as much as I did in those pictures, I still liked them.  I didn't feel fat.  I know that I'm not skinny.  I am carrying extra weight, and I know I need to work on losing it.  But it seemed to me after years of insanity with my weight and the scale and dieting, I had to focus on loving the woman I see in the mirror everyday before I could succeed.

I now plan to weigh in once per week, on Monday mornings.  I am still focused on healthy eating and regular workouts.  I want to lose more weight, but I don't want to lose the self-acceptance and love I have acheived over the past six weeks.