I thought it was my friend. I thought the time we spent together first thing every morning was helping me reach my goals…keeping me on track. We’d been in this relationship for decades – longer than I’ve ever been in a relationship with a man.
But now it’s over. I ended it.
It all happened this past Saturday morning. I woke up feeling amazing…energized and positive. I’ve been doing Insanity workouts every day for the last three weeks and I can feel (and see) my body changing. When I put my hands on my hips, there aren’t as much hips there. I’ve got some major definition happening in my abs. A lady in the grocery store last week asked me how I got my arms so defined. I’ve never had this much energy in my life!
I knew that morning when I stepped on the scale I was going to be rewarded for all of my hard work. Surely I had dropped about three pounds. I’d be happy with a three pound loss. I was even “envisioning” a lower number on the scale (I’ve read The Secret at least a dozen times.)
So here I go, all happy, positive and excited, stepping on the scale.
And it’s the same – the exact same weight as when I started this round of Insanity three weeks ago. Not a freaking pound gone.
My heart sinks to my chest. Maybe there’s something wrong with the scale. Maybe I stepped on it wrong. (Seriously?) Let me try again. Same weight. And again. Same weight.
I’m devastated. How could this be? I have literally been mopping up my own sweat from the floor every night. How could I not have lost a single pound? Are you f’n kidding me? Immediately my mood has changed. I feel exactly the same way I did as a teenager when my band director told me (in front of all my peers) that I needed to lay off the meat and potatoes. (If you haven’t heard this story about my eating disorder and how my obsession with the scale started, here it is.)
Now my day is completely ruined. I’m in a bad mood. So I do what I always do when I’m in a bad mood. I write in my journal to try and work out my feelings and come up with a positive plan to change my attitude. How could I have gone from feeling so great about myself one second to feeling like a complete loser the next?
I’m not overweight, I know that. I’m a size six. A lot of people would love to be a size six. My clothes are fitting me better than ever. My manfriend makes comments all the time about how small my waist is getting. What the hell is wrong with me? I’m doing Insanity workouts, but am I truly going insane?
No! It’s that damn scale!
I suddenly started to realize that it was not my friend. It is my worst enemy. Whatever magic number I have in my head as to what I’m “supposed” to weigh will be the wrong number if I were to ever hit it. I would want it to be lower, because as women we’ve been conditioned by the fashion & beauty industry (and society) that we can never be too thin. I hate that, which is why I started Stylaphile. And even though I write about changing the fashion industry and promoting realistic standards of beauty, I struggle with the same self image issues as every other woman does every day.
But I’ve made one step in the right direction.
From now on, instead of stepping on that scale first thing in the morning, I’m going to look at myself in the mirror and tell myself all the things I love about my body. I’m going to be extremely grateful and thankful that I am healthy. I will measure my fitness success by how many Insanity workouts I’ve finished that week, or how many pushups I can do, or how long it takes me to run a 5K. These are all positives that make me feel good about myself.
Never again will I allow the rush that I feel after completing a workout be diminished by a digital box displaying a number that tells me I’m not good enough. I am so much more than that number. I am a champion for healthy and positive body images. I want to utilize fashion to empower women with confidence, not riddle them with insecurities. But before I can change the world, I have to change me.
Have you ended your relationship with the scale? If so, I’d love to hear your story.
Please comment below.