Tuesday, August 5, 2014

It's not you, it's me....

Hey Brittany, thanks for the writing prompts!

I love this, it's like high school essay all over again, which I must say, I excelled at, because multiple choice was NOT for me.  I could always argue one way or another.  True or false?  Psssscchhhht??!!!  I had so many questions.  I need more information to accurately answer this!!!

Here's #26 for you. Why are you saying goodbye to the scale?

Well, there are so many reasons.  Glad you asked.

My first memory of being embarrassed of my weight in actual, tangible numbers was when I got hit by a car while riding my bike.  I was in 6th grade.  I had been babysitting and I rode my bad ass huffy to the store to get slime for the girls I was watching.  I was an excellent babysitter.  Not such an excellent bike rider.  A minivan smoked me and crushed my bike but I was miraculously fine.  No broken bones, I don't even remember being bruised.  What I do remember was this...

The ambulance arrived and they put me on a stretcher.  The paramedics told me I was lucky to be so "sturdy" because if I had been smaller I would have broken bones.  Then, I remember him lifting my stretcher up and estimating my weight.  "Over 100," he said.  OUT LOUD so everyone heard.  I was horrified.  HORRIFIED.   And sad.  Now everyone knew my sad little 6th grade weight.  I knew other girls in my class were no where near that and my sisters weren't either.  I remember not wanting to cry because tough girls don't cry.  So I didn't.  I probably just cussed at someone.

I never wanted to get on that awful scale and see the 100s.  Even in grade school. 

I avoided it.

I have battled my weight all my life.

Over the years I have had a healthier relationship with my weight and how I feel about myself.  There are good days and bad days.  I have ranged from happy with my weight (well almost) to horribly depressed.  But the number.  Seeing that number.  WHY DOES THAT NUMBER HURT SO MUCH?  It's just a number.  But the number categorizes you somehow.  Puts you in some kind of a section in your mind. 

See, I'm 5 foot tall.  So I'm "supposed" to weigh a certain number right?  For me, for my body type, I cannot get to that number.  My doctor even told me that. 

After I had my baby (12 weeks ago) I was a number that I couldn't even handle.  My entire pregnancy I never ONCE looked at the scale at the doctor's office because I couldn't deal with it.  I was doing what I was supposed to be doing.  Eating right, exercising.  Weight should be on track, right?

But  now, I'm working my ass off.  I mean really working.  But somehow, my ass is not coming off.  Hey ASS - you are supposed to be coming off!  It's being stubborn.  That scale is not moving.  So guess what?

I am stepping off.  I don't have a healthy relationship with that scale.  I never have.  I understand it is a tool but when it is something that becomes a shackle and not a  helpful vehicle, you have to get rid of it.  I have picked up other tools - food scale, measuring cups, measuring tapes. 

GOOD BYE SCALE!  I will not miss you.  I might see you again but not for a while.  It's not you, it's me.  Well, maybe it's you...

2 comments:

Michelle Powell said...

Buddy, I totally agree with get off the scale. It took me till 4 months to get the shift, where everything "starts" getting back to normal. But you created a person ( who is beautiful and amazing btw) which is an unvelievable feat for a body to undertake, so give yourself some time and love. You can get there. Just not overnight. It's ok :) she is worth it!!! Xoxo

Erica said...

Umm, Coco was TWO before I was able to lose any weight. Never beat yourself up over that. You're kicking ass as a mommy and thats all that matters!! I was so hungry while nursing I gained weight instead of losing it like the magazines said. And I love seeing pics of her - she's perfect ;)