When the Scale Became my Friend

“To love oneself is the beginning of a life-long romance”~Oscar Wilde

I dreaded this day.  Only because I was afraid that the scale, would tell me a number that I didn’t quite agree with.  I pumped myself up on the walk to the gym. “Okay Kerry, here’s the deal, this is the worse case scenario…” And I’d throw out a number.  If the number was anywhere near that I might as well find a long cliff, and jump off of it.  And…of course the best case scenario.  And in that case.  Be great, and keep working hard.  Well, the scale, leaned towards the better side.  Actually pretty darn close.  Although to be honest, I would have liked to see it a couple notches lower, but not much. 


6 years ago, I had an unhealthy relationship with “THE SCALE.”  About 1 year prior to that, even more unhealthy.  Actually abusive.  Right before I turned 21 I started working out like a mad woman.  I wanted lose 10 pounds, so with that I started running every day.  When it started getting too hot to run outside, on the dirt highschool track, I joined the gym.  I decided I would weigh myself for shits and giggles.  “Huh?! I’ve gained weight, but I’ve been a slave to working out…must.workout.more.” And that was my introduction to the scale.  Every morning I would weigh myself, at relatively the same time, before eating or drinking….etc….and shizam…it was like a competition with myself.
I wanted to weigh 124…and within 2 weeks it was done. 124 came and went…soon, 120.  Holy dumbbells batman…I’m getting skinny.  One day, the owner of the gym says “Hey…I want to see what your body fat is.” Nervous, but all the same…I took it….14 percent.  What the?! This whole working out thing is really working.  Oh that and the fact that I was eating a whole whopping 800-1000 calories a day, EVERYDAY after working out for 2 hours, and on my feet at work for 10.  But, hey no biggie, I had a wedding I wanted to look good for. I’d measure my waist…BAM..24 inches.  Oh dyaaaammmnnnn…I’m getting skinny I thought.  I’d picture myself on my wedding day, skinny…in my great dress.  And, for our honeymoon in Cancun, on the beach…skinny.  But, the funny thing is…I’d see myself in the mirror and still think to myself, “Gawd Kerry, you’re so HUGE…lose some weight will you, you’re making me sick!”  The lady who was altering my wedding gown, finally said to me, “Whatever it is you are doing…Please stop, your dress cannot be taken in anymore”.  Uh…what?!  No I will not stop.  I was competing for hottest bod…against, well-- myself.  The day before my wedding I went to the gym as usual, and bounced onto that scale….114.  114?!!! I am 5’8”…114=NOT HEALTHY. Oh yea, and did I mention, my body fat index had dropped to 11%?!! Oh…right…that small detail.  But I didn’t care.  I was golden. 
Had I not had a honeymoon for 10 days I probably would have kept going down.  But, after the motivation wore off, I slacked a little, but a little felt like a lot, when I jumped on the scale after a month, and had gained like 7 pounds.  And then it dropped again, as I tried to rekindle the relationship with the scale, and then, Winter rolled around, and like sands through the hour glass…..food was spilling down my throat. 
I didn’t realize how unhealthy all of this was until I looked at our honeymoon pictures one day, and looked at someone who I didn’t even recognize….myself.  Gawky, with huge implants (34 DD)…hip bones jutting out.  What had I done?!  So, I told myself…never again…never will you have such an unhealthy idea of yourself.  Pick a number that is your HEALTHY weight, and a number that is your SEXY weight.  Pick a pant size you’d like to fit in, and pick an activity that you like doing—stick with those things and you’ll be fine. 
And I was.  Fine.  Until I just wanted to see where I was.  Because what good is a number when you can’t monitor it.  Like a bank account. Just to be on the safe side.  And I am in between my Healthy weight, and my SEXY weight, and the pant size I chose I fit into a smaller size.  Not because I am trying to, but because I am treating my body the way it should be, and with that you get small rewards. 
Last Thursday the scale became my friend, not my nemesis.  Last Thursday, I became at peace with my body.