I weighed myself today, for the first time in 4+ years.
You see, I haven’t been ready before. The number on the scale has always been really triggering. I thought it showed my worth as a person, or how I was failing. Adding weight always meant bad things to me. It meant failure and “letting myself go.” It meant I had to work harder, control more things, starve myself more.
So one day I decided to not weigh myself anymore. I got rid of my scale, I step backwards on the scale when I’m at the doctor, and I’ve been working on myself…on the inside part. I’ve spent many, many years “perfecting” the outside, only to find that it never made me happy, or satisfied, or love myself more. I’d feel good for a minute, and then stress about food and exercise and never, ever would it last long. My anxiety shows in how I control the things around me, and my body, and what I ate was always an easy thing to control.
Fast forward to now. I’ve been working on my mental health, busting the limiting belief that I am only worthy if I look a certain way. Stepping away from disordered eating and obsessive compulsive thoughts about food and exercise. I was at a place today that needed my weight to calculate something. I could have given a guess, but I decided I was okay knowing my actual weight. It didn’t hold power over me. It felt worse avoiding it and not getting the number, versus just stepping on the scale and knowing.
So I know now, and I’m okay. That number has no power over me, it’s just a capture of my mass on this particular day. What matters is that I am okay in myself, in my self worth, that hearing this number (that is higher than I’ve ever been) is just a number. What I’ve gained is my confidence and my worth, I know who I am has nothing to do with a number on a scale or a pants size. I’m still me, only happier and healthier and I’m freeing myself from a lifetime of anxiety over my worthiness as a person when it comes to a number on a scale.
