I posted this blog today and I thought it might relate well to the challenge of my fellow shrink yourselves folks.
After 46 tumultuous years I have decided that the scale and I have a dysfunctional relationship and it is time for the scale to go. Specifically, over the last 14 months I have been using the scale to measure my progress as I eat healthy, exercise regularly, drink 8 or more glasses of water a day and try to maintain my stress levels. If you ask me (and or take a look at my spark streaks) you will find that I am doing fairly well in these areas. In general, the scale has shown success as well. I am down over 30 lbs. to date- sometimes I am down more than 30 lbs. sometimes less. I am wearing the smallest clothes Iíve worn in over 4 years. So why the divorce?
I try to weigh in no more than once a week. However with that scale peaking out at me every time I enter the bathroom it is hard to say no. Sometimes Iíve been eating right and exercising extra hard the last few days so I want to see the progress NOW. So I step on the scale. Sometimes, the progress is not that forthcoming. Of course not- the scale doesnít know what I am doing or how hard I am working. The scale does not know how it affects my feelings- nor does it care. So I get upset, beat myself up and may even go off my healthy habits- just on spite. Still the scale does not care.
Sometimes, I slip up on the healthy habits. Iím too tired, too angry, too used to eating to soothe that which is bothering me. So I turn to food. Really these days, that happens very rarely. Thatís ok, Iím only human. Afterwards I pick myself up and start back down my path to a healthy life. Being a woman (sorry, to make this generalization) I probably then beat myself up a bit for slipping up. If that isnít enough, then I step on the scale and find out my progress is going the wrong way. More self-abuse ensues.
If my daughter, husband, son or friend was to not bother to exercise, eat too much, party too long, would I abuse them? Of course not! They wouldnít want to be with me anymore. They wouldnít consider me a good wife, mom or friend. So I treat them with compassion and understanding. Itís about time I treat myself the same way.
The scale provides no compassion. I get no communication (besides the blinking LED) from the scale. I get no support. I even celebrate alone when the scale shows me success.
This morning, after a week that included 4 days of overeating, 4 days of minimal exercise and a hormonal monthly activity coming on that normally makes me retain water I see that Iíve gained 2 lbs. My usual take on that would be some self-flagellation. But this morning I decided to take an alternative approach. I drew up the divorce papers for the scale and I. I figure after 14 months I know how to take care of myself and Iím doing quite well I might add. I wonít be stepping back on the scale for another month- on July 24th. As long as I know that my clothes fit then I know Iím staying healthy. If they start to feel like sausage casings- well then itís time to re-evaluate the eating, exercising, water drinking and stress management.
I feel so good about this decision that Iím starting to consider divorcing the mirror and the womenís magazines- Iíll bet you didnít know that I am polyandrous.
If you win 51% of the battles you have won the war.