It all started last year around this time. I returned home from a family reunion, a 2 week vacation in Ontario celebrating a special occasion. The festivities had included exquisite party food, an extra glass of wine or two, and at least one visit to Red Lobster.
At home, I decided to not step on the scale for at least a couple of days to allow time for my body to deflate, lose the water weight, get back to normal.
The scale was sitting in the corner of the bathroom, luring me to stand on it, coaxing me to tiptoe onto it, an almost daily habit I have had for 50 years. A couple of days turned into a week. I would leave the bathroom each morning resisting the magnetic pull of the device that could and often would impact my morning mood, the clothing I would wear that day, the activities I would engage in.
After a couple of weeks I realized I did not miss stepping on the scale. I actually felt better each morning now that a number would not dictate the quality of my day. I noticed my day began with a lighter step.
I did not want to lose this feeling. My next move was to remove the scale from eye view and I hid it in a difficult to access area of the house. I did not want to return to the old me. Lifelong habits are difficult to break.
One year later, my clothes do feel a little tighter, I am a little rounder, and my head still does not touch my knees in standing head to knee pose. Ultimately, I am thankful for what my body is capable of doing. A number on a scale does not determine how I feel.
This week my husband asked me where the scale is, the first time he has shown any interest in it’s whereabouts. I don’t think he was actually too heartbroken when the scale disappeared a year ago. I had (almost) forgotten I had a scale. I retrieved it for him with adamant instructions to place it somewhere I would not see it. I did not want to be tempted to step on it and break the spell of living comfortably in my body.
This month I will begin another year of not stepping on the scale. It is as if a weight has been lifted off of me.