Lies, all lies. Plus: Things I wish my scale had to say.
Recently, I got home from an epic summer beach trip. My granddaughter and I called it our “Fun, Fun, Fun, Food, Food, Food Vacation.” Tagline: All the fun you can handle and all the food you can eat.
I wasn’t really worried about my bathroom scale.
I left it home alone wondering about my whereabouts. When we finally reunited, I was pleasantly surprised. I was only up four pounds. Well well worth it!
Before you judge me too harshly for caring about a number on the scale, here’s why that’s so for me. I have genetic high blood pressure. I got some good stuff from my parents, but this one isn’t my favorite. And if my weight creeps up, so does my BP. I use the scale as an accountability partner—it keeps me honest about my food and fitness habits.
That is, unless it’s lying.
Remember those extra pounds? Dang if they didn’t come off quickly. Two pounds peeled away in a day or two, and then two more shortly after that.
Then, one groggy, bleary morning, I stepped on the scale and, Whoa!
I rubbed my eyes and looked again. I am not good at math or a morning person, but I think I just lost 10 pounds overnight. Wowza!
My first instinct was to celebrate the momentous occasion.
Then, I came a little more to. That can’t be right. So I stepped off, like any rational person, and stepped back on.
Two more pounds down! Well, this is fun! So off again and back on. Down two more pounds. I am either in a magical Hallmark movie where secret wishes come true…or….or…or…it’s the scale.
That’s when it hits me. I haven’t been losing weight. My scale has been losing battery power. Nooooooo!
My energizer bunny has been phoning it in. Frickity, frickity, frack.
In the background, I hear my jean’s button muttering, “I tried to warn you, girl.”
I won’t lie. I was upset. I felt both foolish and betrayed (that’s the worst, right?). But it got me thinking about how attached I’ve gotten to the scale’s feedback. I claim it’s for my health’s sake, but is it healthy?
For me, it’s an easy road to go from managing my weight to micromanaging to overthinking to obsessing.
Next, I found myself scribbling down empowering and reassuring messages from my scale. I was soothing and amusing myself, and I thought you might enjoy the sentiments too.
Things I wish my scale would say
“Well, hello, curves.”
“You go, girl. Take up some space.”
“I find you really interesting.”
“Your thighs rubbing together generate heat, adding to your hotness.”
“You is kind. You is smart. You is important.”
“Yay! There is more of you to love.”
“Someone had to eat the fries. Food waste is wrong.”
“I don’t lie, but I don’t know your true value either.”
“Don’t let anyone call you a skinny b$tch today.”
“You’re killin’ it in kilograms and kindness.”
“I get it. Serving sizes are confusing.”
“Don’t panic. Everything will be OK.”
“Preparing for the famine? Good planning!”
It’s me, not you
I haven’t completely decided where I am landing on my daily weigh-in habit. But for starters, I am considering a scale sabbatical for the remainder of September.
We'll take some time off to establish new boundaries. I'll listen more to my body—and my jeans—and live in a world where a number doesn’t define how I feel about my efforts or myself.
I am not talking about going hog wild with my habits. I still have my blood pressure monitor to answer to.
At least when it gets low on power, it’s thoughtful enough to tell me so.
I am Margie Reece. I am here to help you rock your chores and have some fun doing it.